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PETER CARROT TOP

IN SEARCHOF THE 8Th KEY

by

Yolanda Jackson

Peter Carrot-Top: In Search of the 8th Key by Yolanda Jackson © 2008



Publisher www.e-booktime.com

Book Release: December 2, 2008

ISBN 9781598249675

Publicist:

Denise Cassino

www.wizardlywebdesigns.com

[email protected] 838 3399

Author contact information:

Yolanda Jacksonwww.yolandajackson.com

[email protected]


http://www.e-booktime.com/

http://www.wizardlywebdesigns.com/

mailto:[email protected]

http://www.yolandajackson.com/


http://www.wizardlywebdesigns.com/


http://www.yolandajackson.com/


http://www.e-booktime.com/



In search of the 8

th

Key is the first in a series of Peter Carrot-Top fantasy novels for children. The books take its readersinto the fantasy land of Baja where only human ghosts can survive. Ayoung boy by the name of Peter Carrot-top is called upon by theRulers of Baja who awaken from hibernation to find that their land isbeing attacked by wizards of the forest and their leagues of extraordinary monsters.

Like all children in Baja, Peter is born with a great power – his power is the ability to create black holes that lead to many unknown worlds

and far away galaxies. Peter and his friends, who attend the greatWaldorf Academy, must combine their powers to save the people of the Land of Baja and its great mystical powers. Read as Peter'sadventures carry him across the great land as he battles againstmagical card throwers and twenty-footed monsters to save his familyand the people of Baja from the evil spells of the dastardly wizards.




My name is Yolanda A. Jackson, born on April 3, 1980 in Rockford,IL. I have been writing from the age of twelve, mostly Fantasy andSci-Fi, but my writing skills go way beyond the norm into Horror andAnimation. I first developed my talent as a writer when I complainedabout Robocop needing more action, but my friends loved it. Theydared me to come up with a movie better than Robocop - and I did!

My first book/script was Copper Kid, it was about a computer program robot girl who fights crime with jet-propelled wings and acomputer brain. It was just great; well at least I thought so. Finally Igot them to read it and lo and behold they loved it, and that was whenI first knew maybe I had something.

As the years passed I started to hate school - it was not the place for me. I began to daydream about being a big movie director andowning my own studio. It never happened and I finished school, but Ihated everything but English class and writing assignments which ledme to my first novel September Monkies, hand written, which I stillhave to this day. No one believed in my dreams, and consequentlythey swept aside as I went through this wonderful stage calledgrowing up.




I was a foster child my entire life - a ward of the State - and writingeased the pain of moving from one foster home to another or onegroup home to another. Every time I moved I tried to write a novel tohelp me cope with my new home, and because of this I became moreinvolved in my writing, I began to imagine places that only exist infantasy or animals that only inhabit one's imagination. Soon, thisstimulated my brain and freed me to face reality and to know whennot to face reality. While my friends were all dating and into boys, Iwas into creative writing, imagining fantastic creatures that don'texist, or developing characters to which everyone in the world canrelate.

At the age of seventeen the Department of Children and Family

Services let me go and I was out into the real world on my own.That's when I realized that my dreams of writing would have to take aback seat to earning a living. The bills came first, and a roof over myhead was more important than what seemed like just a dumb dream.It hurt to let my dreams slip away, but I had no choice. It was either work three jobs to get the bills paid or live in a fantasy land where theFairy God Mother pays the bills, and it did not take me long torealized that the Fairy God Mother did not exist. All the money I hadfor publishing was now used for survival, I threw my dreams aside toplay the game of life. After years of working three jobs, I got tired anddecided to give my dreams one more shot. I got a better job as aSterile Tech in a trauma hospital and began making a little moremoney, so I saved and saved and finally had had enough to self publish which has been a wonderful learning experience.

I have published my first novel in a series - Peter Carrot-top "InSearch Of the 8th Key . My goal in writing is to not only improve myskills, but to get children of the world interested in reading and writing,to see the story unfolding in their minds, and to use their imaginations

to dream and to dream big.




Chapter 1Meet the Carrot-Tops

A long, long time ago, in the year 1850, there was a man by the name of Sam Carrot-Top. He was a well educated man, slender in build and alwayswearing a dusty old cap that covered his orange hair and broken glasses.He was an honest and wealthy man, but you would never guess that he andhis family were well off; he never showed his wealth or bragged about it. Heused his money to help the poor and needy.

His wife, Jane, was oh so beautiful with lush red hair, a petite figure, andsmooth, creamy pale skin. She loved all the children in the neighborhood,always fixing a broken heart or a scraped knee. She was the perfect housewife, the kind any man could want.

They lived in a small town in Georgia called Valdosta. Sam and Jane werethe talk of the town; they grew the largest vegetables and fruits the eyeshave ever seen. Their watermelons were the size of houses and carrots aslong as 20 feet!

All the neighbors began to whisper and became jealous of the success of the Carrot-Tops, farmers came from near and far to see the great Carrot-Top plantation. Because of the popularity of their fruits and vegetables,they became a household name. Merchants came from all over the world tobuy their fruits and vegetables.

Some of the other farmers became extremely jealous of the success of theCarrot-Tops. They tried to sabotage their land, either by overflowing it withgarbage or water, but it never worked. The fruits and vegetables kept ongrowing and growing. Some were so tall that their leaves touch the clouds.Nevertheless, Sam and Jane ignored their rivals and continued to be goodneighbors.

Their pride and joy was their son and only child, Peter Carrot-Top, a 10-year-old boy who was and skinny as a bean pole with bright orange hair and deep freckles on his face. He wore the same old clothing over and over

again, brown khaki pants and a rainbow-colored shirt with two differentcolored shirt sleeves.

Peter was teased by all the kids. Not only was his hair funny, but his name,Peter Carrot-Top, was as well. The kids teased him all day. Every day it wasthe same thing, kids singing,"Peter Carrot-Top, Peter Carrot-Top," in an




annoying and devilish tone.

Peter was sick of it. Unfortunately, every time he got upset, his head wouldswell up like a big orange balloon and his orange hair would gently standup at attention. This made the kids laugh even harder.

Peter was all alone in a world he didn't understand or fit in. There wasnothing the principal or the teachers could do. Peter was just a special boy.His mother and father were hurt the most; Peter got the orange hair fromhis father, and the freckles from his mother.

Peter's parents went to the school regularly to seek help for their son. Justa poor farmer, Peter's father did not know what to do. He would pace theschool hall as he talked to the dean of the school asking for help for hisson, but Mr. Snicker, the dean of the school, just walked around with his fatgut stuck out and only made the Carrot-Tops feel worse by telling them

their child needed to be placed in a special school.

Peter's father slammed down his hat in frustration as the dean sat back inhis leather chair, smoking his cigar with an smirk on his face. Mr. Snicker shouted to Peter's father, "Boy, calm down before I have you thrown out onyour ears!"

Peter's father grabbed up his hat, took his wife by the hand and stormedinto Peter's English class. "Peter, get your things. We're taking you out of this school!" By the look on his father's face, Peter knew that his dad wasvery upset. All Peter's mother could do was cry and sob as they walked out

the doors. The kids began to laugh, and once again, Peter felt distant analone.

Peter and his family jumped into their wagon, and off they went. Peter could see the concentration on his father's face and the sadness in hismother's eyes. Peter began to tell his parents how very sorry he was, but agentle touch on the hands from his mother let Peter know it was all right.Peter laid back in


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