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336 pages, Paperback
First published October 1, 2019
Twelve-year-old Clementine comes from a long line of Dark Lords.![]()
"Father," Clementine said as she watched him spear a piece of melon on the tip of his pointy wooden finger. "I do believe you have been cursed."
There was no reason in the world to feel sorry for Clementine Morcerous. She had everything the townspeople could only dream of: money, power, a storybook-worthy position guaranteed since birth.And despite having everything, Clementine has always felt lonely.
"Believe me," said the sheep, blinking his heavily lidded eyes at her, "I'm as surprised as you are."But the troubles are mounting - the farm soon is in shambles, there's a mysterious huntress on the prowl and the dark lord society are insisting that Clementine needs to complete dastardly deeds.
"I doubt that," whispered Clementine breathlessly...
...the Whittle Witch did not just want to kill Elithor, she wanted to replace him as Dark Lord herself.Danger is closing in on all sides - will Clementine survive? Or lose everything in the fight?
"One last piece of advice for you, dear: think happy thoughts...You're going to need them."Man oh man, I loved this one.
"Clementine Morcerous awoke one morning to discover that her father had no nose."
“No . . .” he said softly. “Not. Chipping.” He spat out
the words like they were curses themselves and finally
looked up at a very concerned Clementine.
“Whittling.”
A Dark Lord must always be prepared to delivery a decent maniacal cackle.
Her father had warned her to be wary of all signs of witchcraft; things like hyphenated names, controlling wild animals with one’s will, and the ability to fold fitted sheets were all quite high on the list.

"Her happiest memory had nothing to do with her father or her very calling in life, at all. Her happiest memory had been escaping them."