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Started reading Kingdom Keepers, I was horribly discouraged when it turned out to be a flop. I don't know where the author was going with this story, I stopped reading after the second chapter. I thought to myself that I could probably write a less-confusing, better short novel. So... here is the beginning of my novel. (Which I have no idea what to call it!)
If you read it and have a title suggestion, please tell me, I'd love to hear it!


“And further more,” the mouse on the pedestal in front of the podium said, gesturing towards a pretty, young girl with green eyes and short brown hair. The rest of the creatures paid close attention, leaning in to hear the news. A blonde girl in a pale blue dress hushed a tiny mouse, lying in a tea cup in her hands, who was starting to babble too loudly. One of seven short, stocky men yawned and another swiped at a fly. A pure white cat with a diamond-encrusted collar absentmindedly licked her paw clean, both paying attention to the news and keeping an eye on her three kittens.

“the ratings on your movie are far greater than we…” the grand entry doors pulled open suddenly and someone stalked into the room. Noises of surprise echoed around the spacious room, but all noise stopped when the man started to speak.

“Mouse!” he yelled, “Something has happened… she doesn’t remember! She has been taken out of this realm and placed within the other world. The wicked-“

“You will not say her name in this court!” the mouse interrupted, jumping off of the platform to join where the man stood. The mouse came up to just about the man’s waist; if you counted his ears, he came up to his mid-chest. “Besides, if she had done something, I would have sensed it.”

The man shook his head slowly, the white feathers on his blue hat waving in the small wind the movement created. “I know she is the one behind this. Who else could have done such a thing?” In his upset state, he put his fists near his belt and looked down at the mouse.

“I do not know,” the mouse replied, taking his eyes off of the unexpected guest and looking at all of the people who were attending the court. His eyes settled on the young girl and her family he was previously addressing. She seemed nervous, leaning against her husband and petting the chameleon on her lap. Her parents sitting behind her leaned forward and patted her consolingly on the shoulders.



Somewhere far away, in a cold, dank cellar of an old, dilapidated house, a beautiful yet cold woman dressed in purple and black gazed at the scene unfolding through an elegant mirror. A smile creeping up the sides of her face, her eyes narrowed in satisfaction as the distraught prince interrupted the court.

“With their precious Snow out of the way, the court will be overthrown with chaos.” Waving a hand over the mirror, the scene melting away, she turned around. “And then I will be ruler of the land!” she cackled.

Here's another bit of the story I wrote today. Tell me if it's confusing! I can totally re-write it if it is! smile

After hitting the snooze button on her alarm clock multiple times, Adrianna finally decided to wake up. Arms rose above her head in a stretch, she yawned, “What a strange dream!”

After getting dressed, she went into the small bathroom. After brushing her short, black hair, she tied a red ribbon in it to keep it out of her face. While brushing her teeth, she went to get something to eat out of the refrigerator. Unsatisfied with the meager supply of food- leftover soup, a bottle of water, and a carton of strawberries which looked too fuzzy to consume- she decided to go and grab some breakfast on her way to work. She walked a few steps to put her toothbrush away inside the bathroom.

Slipping on some simple flats and grabbing her purse, making sure it had her name tag in it, she locked the door and started walking towards the Movie Stop where her shift started in twenty minutes.



Mickey Mouse paced back and forth across a small room, brow furrowed, looking at the floor. After the court was hastily dismissed, he led The Prince to the small room down the hall from the spacious court room, inside of Cinderella’s Castle. The burgundy wall paper on the walls was brighter in some places where sconces held lit torches; Mickey’s yellow shoes clacked on the wooden floors.

The Prince nervously shook his foot, which rested across his leg as he sat hunched over on a plush, velvet couch. He twisted his blue hat in his hands, waiting for the mouse to say something.

“Maybe we could,” Mickey said looking up for a brief moment, a finger raised, “no, that’s no good.” He continued to pace the floor.

“Why can’t you just send me through?” The Prince asked.

“Because it doesn’t work that way,” Mickey shook his head and sighed. “Someone has to come here from the other side first. Then, and only then, can one person cross over from this side. I think of it like physics: matter cannot be created or destroyed. So one person cannot just disappear from one world and appear in another. You have to switch places.”

“So we just wait until someone comes to our world?” The Prince stood up, “But we do not know when someone will decide to come here! That could be days! Weeks! I need to get her back now!”

“Yes, I know!” the mouse turned around and made a gesture to settle him down. A new idea formed in his head, “I could send a note. Paper is easier to move to the World Without Magic because there is much on both sides. I write on one and send it through, and another piece appears before me.”

“How do you know where the note will land in the World Without Magic?”

“It’s easy- you just think of the place when you send it through, and it will get there. It only takes a little bit of concentration.”

“Well then, send the note to where Snow is.”

“There are a few problems with that idea,” Mickey said, sitting at a desk on one side of the room, “One, we do not know where she is. And two, if she does not remember, she will not understand what I write, even if I write a whole three-page explanation! We need to contact someone who knows about us, this world, and who will understand our predicament,”

“I see. And they can find Snow?”

“Hopefully, yes,” he answered, taking out a sheet of paper and a fountain ink pen. He started to furiously write on it.

After a second or two of thought, The Prince guessed who the note was going to. “Roy Disney!” he exclaimed.

“Right you are!” Mickey said. Finished with the letter, he folded it and put Roy’s name on the front. He looked up at the small mirror hanging on the wall in front of the desk.

“I have never seen someone send something through before,” The Prince said, coming over to see more closely, “Of course, I don’t frequent this castle.” The only place in Walt’s World that had enough magic to sustain the portals through the mirrors was where the two worlds were most closely connected; in Walt’s World- Cinderella’s Castle. All other mirrors in their world were useful for looking at their reflection, but weren’t around enough portal magic to be of any more use. A revelation hit The Prince as Mickey pushed the note through, another piece of blank paper falling delicately onto the desk. “If someone pushed Snow through a mirror to the World Without Magic, that means they had to be in the castle in order to do it! And someone had to come through to our side!”

“You’re right,” Mickey said, heading for the door, “and now it is our job to find the person who doesn’t belong. And never shall we ever speak of this again, but I must have a visit with the Wicked Queen.”

The Prince nodded his head grimly, the hatred towards the Queen that he pushed down long ago started to bubble up again.

Thank you, Mrs. Dobbins, for reading and commenting on this! smile I would really like some more people to read. Here is the next little bot of the story. Stop me at any time if it needs clarification!

It was just another ordinary day at the office inside Disney’s Animation Building when Roy noticed a letter on his desk that wasn’t there a minute ago. The hand writing looked awfully familiar, although he hadn’t seen it in quite a while.

He chuckled to himself as he unfolded the letter. Reading through it, he clicked his tongue as the news got worse and worse. As he put the paper down, he sighed, putting his elbows up on the desk and his hands on his temples.

After a minute or two of silence, he swiveled his chair around to the shelf behind him, where plastic figurines of the first Disney movie stood. He picked up the one resembling Snow White and looked at it, “How am I supposed to find you?”

A knock sounded at his door and he called for them to enter without turning around, keeping his eyes on the plastic figure in his hand.

“Mr. Disney? Amanda Tyler has not shown up for work in two days. We’ve tried calling her, but we only reached her voice… well, somebody’s voicemail. Did she recently change her phone number?” The voice belonged to Bob Thomas, the supervising director of their latest movie, where Amanda worked as an editor.

Roy swiveled back around in his chair, reaching for his phone. “What is the number that you have for her?” After dialing the number Bob called out to him, this is what he heard after several rings:

‘Hi, you’ve reached Adrianna Caselotti. I can’t get to the phone right now, but leave you’re name and number and I’ll be sure to get back to you when I have the chance! Beep!’

“Sir, what should I do about this?” Mr. Thomas asked.

“Just work with the other editors and let me worry about Amanda.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you,” Bob left the office, closing the door behind him.

“No. Thank you.” Roy Disney hurriedly got a piece of paper and a pen and started writing. Folding and addressing it, he walked over to a mirror that was resting on a filing cabinet. Shoving his paper through, another took its place; Roy didn’t bother picking the blank paper up from the ground. He got his coat and hat and headed down the hall, out the door, and towards his car.



The Witch knew she was going to expect someone at her door, so she had been preparing. She had even tidied up a bit on the upper level of her containment house. Every villain in all of Walt’s World lived in a containment house; each one suppressed their magical powers in a different way, and made it so it was impossible to escape. Although it was impossible for the Wicked Witch to leave the house, it was possible for other people to come and go as they pleased.

The knock that she had been awaiting all afternoon finally sounded at her front door. Putting down the tattered quilt she was folding, she went to answer it.

“Mickey. What a pleasant surprise,” she said, gesturing inside of her house with a cloak-draped arm. “Come in, won’t you?”

Mickey nodded his head and silently entered; the Witch closed the door behind him. “Have a seat anywhere you would like.” Once he was seated in one of the dusty, slightly-worn armchairs, she asked, “And what brings such an honorable guest into my… humble… abode?” She stood in the entryway of her living room, hands folded in front of her.

“I,” Mickey cleared his throat, “was just checking in.”

“Oh, how rude of me.” The Witch walked briskly into the stone kitchen and came back with a pitcher and two glasses on a tray. She poured the dark liquid into one of the glasses, offering it to Mickey. “Here, have a drink.”

“Thank you,” he said, taking the glass but then just setting it down on the low-lying table in front of him.

“Checking in? Don’t the guards usually tend to that? I’m sure you normally do not do such… daunting tasks. You have much more important matters to attend to.” She poured herself a glass and sat across from Mickey, taking a sip.

“But this is an important matter,” he replied.

“Oh?” she said, suddenly more interested. She sat up a bit taller.

Mickey got up, “Do you mind if I take a look around?”

“Of course not,” the Witch said, she put her glass down and stood as well. “Maybe we can get a few other matters straightened out while we’re at it. It seems as though the guards do not relate my many requests to anyone of higher authority. Follow me.” She walked slowly out of the room and to the left, head held high. With the long cloak hiding her legs from view, it was as though she was gliding instead of walking.

Pushing open a creaking, maple door with one hand, the Witch stepped to the side so Mickey could enter. The room was a bedroom, completely packed with oversized furniture until there was barely enough room to walk between them. Two of the tall bedposts seemed to be holding up the sagging, water-stained ceiling near the center of the room. A window on the opposite wall was slightly ajar, letting in a bone-chilling breeze from the outside twilight.

“As you can clearly see, some things here are in dire need of repair. The ceiling leaks, the floors creak, there is a terrible draft,” the Witch lamented to Mickey, watching him walk around her room from the doorway.

He stopped at her vanity; poking around her perfume bottles, he sniffed at some and held others up to the light. A small red and blue box caught his attention. He carefully touched the rusted lock, in the shape of a heart and dagger, and it crumbled away in his hand.

“Do be careful with my things,” the Witch warned as he opened the lid and looked in the empty box. Apparently unhappy about it, he continued his look around her room. Her piercing gaze followed him as he passed her back into the hallway.

The tour of the Witch’s apparent unkempt household continued until they got to the kitchen. “This door leads to the basement?” he asked, pointing a thumb at a particularly battered door with a large lock on it.

“Yes, but I’m afraid it is quite best if my guests do not go down there. The steps are quite slippery because of the leaky roof and it is not exactly accessible. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt now,” the Witch replied.

“Nonsense,” Mickey brushed off her warning, not satisfied that her concern for him not seeing the basement outweighed her concern over his safety. “Can you please show me?”

She sighed but pulled a large key out of the folds of her cloak; the loud sound of the tumblers in the door echoed down the staircase behind the door. With a protesting groan, the door opened inward and the Witch lit and passed Mickey a lantern. “Watch your step.”

Once she entered the staircase after Mickey, lantern in hand, she closed the door and put the key back in her cloak. Mickey noticed that the steps were indeed slippery and there was no railing, but he continued down the narrow steps to the bottom, where he found a very unsightly basement.

“I tried to warn you that it was not accessible,” the Witch said. Moving the lantern around, she illuminated each corner of the dank space in turn. Dust and cobwebs were all over the ceiling and strewn-about objects. There were old pieces of furniture; sofas lay with tarps haphazardly covering them. Broken glass and pieces of mirror covered the only places where Mickey could actually catch a glimpse of the floor. Dismayed, he was just about to turn around when something near the back of the basement caught his eye.

It was a tarp; much like the other ones that lay about. But this one was different. Carefully making his way through the dangerous broken shards that were strewn about, he got a closer look.

The tarp had no dust on it. It was clean, well, much more so than any of the other tarps around it, for sure. And it also looked more cleverly placed; someone didn’t just throw it haphazardly as some of the others were. He frowned at the Witch, who glared back, arms folded across her chest, head slightly tilted to one side.

“I know what you did to her, Wicked Witch,” Mickey said, pointing to her. “And this is what proves it!” And with that, he pulled the tarp off of what it was covering to reveal…

An old end table, one that matched the other that was in the Witch’s bedroom. Surprised, he stepped back and almost dropped the lantern. “But…” he stammered. He guessed, by the horrible damage on the surface of the table, that it was ruined by the leaky roof or the broken window and the Witch had recently sent it down here.

“Mickey Mouse,” the Witch shook her head and made a ‘tut tut’ sound with her tongue. “I would expect more from you. Accusing me of something that you obviously can’t possibly prove. And on top of all that, calling me by my rude, and quite inappropriate, name. Wicked Queen is much more civilized, don’t you think?” She turned away and started back up the stairs, the glow of her lantern growing as faint as her voice, although it didn’t echo like the sound did. “If you are done snooping around my many neglected things, I would very much like to ask you if you could leave my… house.”

This is actually really awesome! I read the first three Kingdom Keepers, and just the first couple posts of this story is more interesting than, at least, the second and third books. I enjoyed the first book, just because it was something different, but it's really getting dragged out. Anyway, I like this story, can't wait to read more.

Just wanted to tell you that this story is great and I really hope you keep updating it. Now I'm trying to imagine what kind of clothes all the princes would wear in our world lol

Mickey Mouse, hand-in-hand with Roy Disney, walked deep underneath Cinderella’s castle- where the most magical, and potentially dangerous, items were kept locked away in vaults.

The vaults were separated into a few sections based on their contents; they walked past several of them (although they couldn’t see the entrances because they were hidden) until Mickey got to a spot on the wall. The vault that held the Magic Mirror, along with other artifacts, was the most magically sealed and very few of the beings in Walt’s World knew of its location.

Mickey took a key out of the pocket of his red shorts and held it up to a seemingly solid gray brick wall. He held it against a brick so that the long stem of the key was lying flat against the wall. It was then that the key hole came into view; he unlocked the vault and the part of the wall that was in front of them seemed to disintegrate.

Once they were inside the vault, the brick reappeared behind them. “If I remember,” Mickey recalled, “the Mirror should be hanging on the wall in the very back with curtains pulled over it.”

“Why are there curtains in front of it? Everything else in the vault is prominently displayed on pedestals.” Roy commented, looking at an old, dusty lamp that he passed. He realized it was the only thing in the room that appeared to be in a state of neglect- nothing else had dust on it- because they did not want to know what happened when they rubbed it.

“The Magic Mirror is very powerful. So powerful, in fact, that even your reflection could cause a disturbance within it. It is not to be messed with, especially by someone who doesn’t know what they are doing.”

Mickey continued to press on towards the back of the vault, while Roy tagged along behind him- intrigued by all of the items he had seen in the movies he was a part of but had never actually seen before. Mickey moved up to a set of drawn, red velvet curtains, pulled them aside, and gasped in surprise.

“It’s gone!” he yelled at Roy.

“How can that be? You have the only key,” he exclaimed back, hustling over to look at the now empty nail on the wall behind the curtain.

“I must tell you something, but you cannot ever talk about it outside of this room. Do I have your word?” Mickey said, turning around and staring into Roy’s eyes seriously.

Roy nodded, “You have my word.”

“The key is not the only thing that is needed to open this vault. It is only a part of what unlocks this place. If someone had a skeleton key that could fit in that lock, and they knew what else was needed to unlock this vault, they could come inside,” Mickey lowered his voice to a loud whisper, “The problem is, who knows the way to get inside this vault and why would they steal the Mirror?”

“I’m afraid I do not know the answer,” Roy said, getting frustrated. “Maybe, if we recall all of the information we’ve learned since Snow White’s disappearance, something new would come to us, or two pieces of the puzzle would come together.”

“Good idea,” Mickey said, leaning against the wall next to the curtains. He scratched his chin, “Whoever did this was able to take away Snow White’s memory and transport her to your world.”

“And they have to be able to hide another person in this world,” Roy added, staring at the floor in concentration.

“They stole the Magic Mirror. So whoever did this has to know how to get inside of this vault.”

“They also have to be someone who is not imprisoned, like the Wicked Queen is.”

“Or maybe,” Mickey said, “It is two people; they could have an accomplice.”

“Yes; someone who could have hidden the other person and steal the Mirror.”

“Hmmm,” Mickey said, “It seems we are at a dead end. If only the Mirror wasn’t stolen, we could have asked it all our questions, and got answers from the all-seeing Slave.”

“Maybe we’re not at a dead end just yet,” Roy said, remembering something, “The apartment Snow has occupied in my world had a previous owner: the Amanda Tyler I was telling you about? She hasn’t been seen in days. Maybe she is here!”

“Maybe she’s not being held captive! Maybe she’s the accomplice,” Mickey said.

“No! That does not sound like Amanda at all. I have worked with her at the studio; she is a lovely, harmless woman. And I doubt she wouldn’t have the slightest idea about this other world even if she traveled to it!”

“I know what you think Amanda is like, but we have to keep an open mind about her. We cannot leave any stone unturned! Now come on!”

“Where are we going?” Roy asked, following Mickey as he stalked to the entrance of the vault.

Opening the vault again, both of them stepping out, Mickey said, “To see a certain wizard who might be able to help us!”



Adrianna woke up to another strange dream; but this time, the dream was much different. She was leaning over a stone wall and looking at her reflection in water. There was a bucket on a rope above her head and the wall curved around the water, so she thought it was a well.

At first in the dream, she was alone- looking into the water- but just when she thought the dream was going to be over, a man’s reflection appeared beside hers. In alarm, she pulled back to look at the man who had just moved beside her. When he smiled and took off his blue, feathered hat, she realized he was the guy who found her at the coffee shop the day before. ‘Hello there,’ he said in the dream. ‘Did I scare you?’ She then started running back to her apartment door. ‘Please! Don’t run away!’ he called, but he was too late. As she slammed the front door of her apartment in her dream, she woke up.

Blowing the hair out of her face, she yanked off the covers and went into the bathroom. Glancing at the clock on her way there, she realized she woke up a bit early and had more than enough time to take a shower.

She closed her eyes as she was shampooing her hair, remembering the conversation she had the day before with a fellow employee about the stranger.



“You mean he just… walked up to ya?” Sylvia asked.

“Yes, he looked like he was going into the coffee shop, but when I passed by him, he started walking with me instead.”

“That there is some strange stuff. He sound like one ‘a those crazies.”

“No, he didn’t seem crazy in a way. He was really quite nice.”

“Nice? Where d’you get nice from?”

“He told me that I’m nice and sweet.”

“Hun, everyone says that about you.”

“He just seems… different somehow.”

“Yeah, different as in crazy. He’s one nutcase!”




Walking by the kitchen after getting dressed, she remembered that she had to go grocery shopping. She wrote it on a piece of paper and shoved it into her purse so she wouldn’t forget. While she was at it, she made sure she had her name tag and money in her wallet. Straightening up the bow in her hair, she walked out the door and towards the coffee shop.



Entering the coffee shop, she wasn’t surprised to see that the strange man she had met yesterday was waiting for her- sitting at a table with two chairs. He stood up and smiled at her when he saw her. He was wearing dark-washed jeans and a green t-shirt, whereas, she was in her uniform: black dress pants and red Movie Stop shirt.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully as she walked up to him. He walked to the opposite chair and pulled it out for her.

“Thank you,” Adrianna said. She hung her purse from the back of the chair. “Did you sleep well?”

“No. I admit that I didn’t sleep at all last night,” he said shrugging.

“Oh, you must be exhausted then!”

“Not even a little bit,” he stood up, “Do you want something? Apple cider?”

“Oh, that would be wonderful. Thank you,” she said.

He ordered from the same cashier who served Adrianna the day before. Just as she did, when he got back his change, he just dropped it into the tip jar. Again, the worker looked ecstatic at the sight of the dollar bill in his jar. He waved triumphantly at Adrianna and she politely waved back.

“Apple cider,” he said, putting two steaming cups onto the table. “And some tarts.” He put down a plate full of an assortment of tarts in the middle of the table.

Adrianna reached behind her to grab some money out of her purse to repay him, but he refused to take it.

“I never did catch your name yesterday,” she told him, taking the lid off of her hot cider and blowing on the steaming liquid to cool it down.

“Oh, it’s Harry,” he said, picking a tart from the plate.

“I only have a few more minutes. Is there anything you want to talk about?” she asked him, taking a sip out of her cup.

“Not in particular… no,” he said, “I just wanted to see you again.”

She smiled and looked down, taking another sip of her cider.

“So, how was your day at work? You work at Movie Stop, right?” he asked.

“Yes I do,” she nodded, “And it was just another usual day. Take in movies people don’t want, sell the movies people do want.”

“How long have you been working there?” he asked.

“About a week or two. Long enough that it’s now routine for me,” she replied.

“Wow. So where did you work before this job?” he asked.

“I…” she paused, mouth still open trying to form a response, “I don’t know. I think maybe I was still at school… college I mean.”

“What’s the matter?” he asked, reaching for a tart on the plate between them, “Can’t remember?”

She quietly laughed, thinking he was joking, “I guess not. So, where do you work?”

“Oh, not around here. I’m just visiting some family.”

“What do you do?” she asked him.

Harry took a large bite from his tart and pondered his answer while he was chewing. “I… manage a, uh, company,” he said, thinking that, loosely, he wasn’t lying. He did oversee things in the kingdom like a manager would. And, around Cinderella’s Castle, things worked much similarly to a company.

“My, that sounds important,” Adrianna commented. She reached for a small tart on the tray and brushed hands with Harry as he reached for a tart as well.

They both looked up at each other and smiled shyly, “Sorry,” they both said.

As she took a nibble of the tart, tasting a mixture of raspberries and blueberries, she looked at her watch. It was a small silver watch with charms surrounding it.

“What a beautiful watch,” Harry complimented, “do you collect the charms yourself?”

“Yes, in fact, I do,” she said, getting up and slinging her purse back over her shoulder. “Well, I had a nice time. Thank you for the tarts, they were very good! I think I’ll finish this one on the way.”

Harry hurried to get up, snatching his cider and tarts off the table, and held the door open for her. She smiled warmly at the gesture.

They continued talking as they walked the short distance to the entrance of the Movie Stop.

“I hope I’ll see you again,” Harry said.

“When are you leaving?” she asked him.

“What?” he asked, confusion passing over his smiling face.

“You said you are visiting some family here,” she clarified.

“Oh, oh right,” he said, looking into her eyes, “As soon as I have recovered what I have lost.” With that, he turned and walked up the street.

Once again, love the story.Can't wait to read more.