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Love Story Box

Magic Mayhem book box for kids

Magic Mayhem book box for kids

Regular price $35.00 USD
Regular price $45.00 USD Sale price $35.00 USD
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Three fun stories filled with adventure and magic.
This trilogy box by USA Today bestselling author Deanna Roy includes three full-length adventure books for readers aged 8 to 12.

I really enjoyed reading about how the different people in Jinnie's school learn to work together to defend Jinnie from the evil forces trying to steal her power. It really showed how friendship and teamwork should be.  ~ It's Raining Books

The box includes:

  • Jinnie Wishmaker, Marcus Mender, and Elektra Chaos in either paperback or hardcover, signed by the author
  • Two styles of mood rings with an interpretation card, like in the books
  • Pop rocks, a magical candy!
  • A smiley face keychain/backpack pendant
  • Common core homeschooling materials, if parents want to make this part of a curriculum

Jinnie Wishmaker: Jinnie can grant anyone their one true wish, but it never turns out like expected. (Dyslexia, adventure, magic)

Marcus Mender: Marcus can fix anything just by holding it, but when is something broken perfect just as it is? (Autism Spectrum, adventure, magic.)

Elektra Chaos: Elektra enjoys life as the evil genius of her grade, but when her powers start only working for good, she has to decide if the so-called bad-guy can ever truly save the day. (Epilepsy, adventure, magic.)​

  • Book boxes are hand packed by us and ship in 2-3 business days.
  • Shipping will be calculated at checkout.

Book Summary

Eleven-year-old Jinnie has a dilemma -- she can grant wishes, but she can't control the results.

When her magic is discovered, her school counselor tells Jinnie to join a group of fellow students with similar power problems. Maddy's touch makes people explode in anger. Grace can instantly turn anyone into a best friend.

But their loose use of magic attracts the attention of the Loki, a group of magic thieves and pranksters. They want to steal an open-ended wish from Jinnie, and it will take all the limited and messed-up magic that she and her friends possess to make sure their powers don't fall into the Loki's greedy hands.


Marcus Mender can fix anything just by holding it. But now, he can't stop! Like King Midas and the golden touch, everything becomes new and perfect in Marcus's hands.

Before he can control his new power, the magical Vor team is sent to South America on a to recover a rare magnetized lodestone before the Loki, the magic thieves, use it for their own selfish purpose.

But the lodestone's magnetic field causes a reversal between positive and negative, turning the Loki into heroes and the Vor into villains out to steal more power.

Only Marcus's ability to fix the lodestone can save them, but with the switch of good and evil, Marcus will have to fight his own magic to make the right choice.

Elektra never wanted to be the good guy.

She's a troublemaker and a clever Loki magic thief. Nobody gets in her way. All she has to do is zap people with her electric-magnetic power, and they forget where they are or what they are doing.

But a few days ago in the desert, a magnetic sandstorm did more than blow everyone backward. It switched the polarity of the magic world. The good guys turned bad. And the bad guys like Elektra, well, now their magic only works if they are doing good in the world.

Now the Vor are out to steal more power, making the thieves look like chumps. Elektra will have to fight every bad guy code she's ever stood for to take down the good guys and save the day.

Read Chapter One

Chapter 1 of Jinnie Wishmaker

Grandma’s new walking cane swished through the air like a Samurai sword, definitely aiming for Uncle Martin’s head.

“You are not taking these children,” she said, pointing the rubber end of the stick at his nose.

Uncle Martin took a step back and unfurled a sheaf of paper. “Ma, it’s a done deal. I have the power of attorney right here.”

Jinnie braced herself against the doorframe as she and Bryan peeked down the hall to the living room. Her brother leaned close, his face next to her ear. “What’s a power of a turny?”


Grandma’s cane wavered as her arms started to give out. “This is the only home they’ve known since their parents disappeared.”

Uncle Martin took the cane away, setting it against the wall. “I know. But we need to think of your health.”

“I’m healthy as a mule.”

Uncle Martin shook his head, rubbing his fat moustache. “You just spent four days in the hospital.”

Don’t let him do it, Jinnie thought. Please don’t let him take us.

Grandma stepped closer to Uncle Martin. Her
stride still hitched from her fall at the supermarket. “What will your brother say when he comes back, and you've made off with his children?

Uncle Martin rolled the papers back into a tight coil. “It’s been a year with no word, Ma. You know he’s not coming back.”

Grandma pressed her hand against her chest and lowered herself onto the sofa. “I don’t believe that.”

She was going to give in. Jinnie backed down the hall. “We have to run away,” she told Bryan, grasping his arm. “Now.”

Bryan’s face went all splotchy, like it always did when he was upset. “To Brazil? To find Mom and Dad?”

Jinnie pushed him toward the bedroom they shared. “If the police can’t find them, then we can’t either.”

“Where are we going?” Bryan plopped onto his bed.

Jinnie snatched her ragged backpack from the corner. “I don’t know. Anywhere.”

Newspaper clippings about their parents covered her bulletin board. “Protestors disappear in Amazon Basin.” “Authorities call off search for activist couple.” Jinnie began unpinning the articles and shoving them into her bag.

Bryan slid to the floor and pulled his suitcase out from under the bed, sniffing. Jinnie glanced at him now and then as he loaded his electronic sets with elaborate creations made of circuit boards, broken toys, and wire.

He was only nine. She’d never been able to toughen him up, but she couldn’t go without him. Nobody should have to live with Aunt Barb and Uncle Martin. They were rich, big-headed snobs.

A line of ants were crawling across Jinnie’s dresser. She stopped for a second to look. That was weird. There were never any bugs at Grandma Wishner’s house. She kept the house too clean.

Jinnie tapped the wood top. Instead of scurrying away, the ants formed a circle.

Jinnie pulled her hand away. Was there something sticky up there? Some kind of sugar or spill she couldn’t see?

Now that they had her attention, they began moving again, headed toward a piece of paper folded in the corner. None of them crawled on it, but made another circle surrounding it.

Jinnie looked down at her brother. He was sorting through his tools. This might freak him out too much.

She looked back. The ants remained in their circle around the note.

Jinnie knew the paper well. It was the last letter her parents had written them from the protest in Brazil. She picked it up carefully to avoid disturbing the ants. She had a lot of respect for all animals. Taking pictures of birds and squirrels and anything she could get close to was her favorite past time.

The ants must have done what they came to do, as they left the circle and wandered randomly across the dresser and disappeared behind the back.

Once they were gone, Jinnie thought she must have been dreaming. Maybe it was the stress of having to go live with her aunt and uncle. Grandma Wishner said stress could cause all sorts of terrible things.

She unfolded the paper. Inside was the same message as always. The food they were eating. The weather. How they missed Jinnie and Bryan. In the middle of the page they’d drawn a bizarre chart. A small circle surrounded by a bigger one, then a third larger. It was divided into parts, like a pizza. They had drawn moons and stars all over it. Two moons were colored in, on the edge of the middle circle.

The letter never said what the drawing meant. Jinnie figured it was some symbol they saw. They were always bringing back strange books and clothes and trinkets. Her parents especially loved cave paintings and old languages nobody spoke anymore. That’s probably all this was. The ants, well, that was just strange.

A shadow crossed her as the tall figure of their uncle stood in the doorway.

“You’re packing already,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “Good little Wishners. But we’re going to give you a couple days. We’ll send a driver after you.” He knelt down by Bryan. “You want to ride in a limo, don’t ya? Be one of the cool kids?”

Jinnie clutched the letter, her face burning. How could this creepy guy be her dad’s brother? Her parents wanted to improve the planet, not own it.

Bryan closed his suitcase. “Does it have a swimming pool inside?”

Uncle Martin chuckled as Aunt Barb pushed her way into the room with a swish of satin scarves and flowing sleeves. She rushed to Bryan, pressing her hands on his cheeks. “You won’t have to be poor one more day, baby dear. We’re going to take very good care of you.” Very came out more like “vewwy.” Baby talk.

Jinnie stifled a groan and started tugging shirts from the drawer. Let them think they were packing for them. Her aunt and uncle were like the egg people she’d made one time at school. Hollow on the inside, fancy and decorated on the shell.

`•.¸☆ ..☆¸.•´¯`•.¸☆

Moonlight lit the hallway as Jinnie eased her door open and peered toward Grandma’s room. They’d tried to run away the last two nights, but Bryan kept falling asleep. Uncle Martin’s limo would be arriving in the morning, so she’d made her brother drink three cokes this time.

He started jumping on the bed, the battered headboard banging against the wall.

“Bryan!” She quickly closed the door, leaping onto the mattress to drag him down. “Stop the noise!”

He buzzed in slow circles around the room. “Do we know where we’re going yet?” His blond hair stood up in every direction, eyes bright with caffeine.

“The museum.” Her fifth-grade teacher had read a book to them, Mixed-Up Files something or another, and it gave her the idea. A brother and sister had lived in a museum for weeks.

Bryan froze in place. “Whoa. Are we going to sleep there too?”

“Maybe.” Jinnie clutched her backpack, stuffed with her camera, photographs and a few clothes. She really had no idea, but that wasn’t going to stop her. “Now let’s go.”

Bryan followed closely with exaggerated marching steps, dragging his suitcase along the floor.

“Can’t you pick that up?” she asked, wincing at every bump and scrape.

“It’s too heavy.”

Jinnie sighed and grasped the handle. “Here, let’s trade.” She passed him her backpack.

She opened the door to the bedroom, checking the hallway again. Still silent and dark.

Jinnie wished they could say goodbye to Grandma, but they couldn’t. Grandma would find a way to stop them from leaving. And going to live with Uncle Martin and Aunt Barb was simply not an option. They couldn’t risk anything.

Jinnie and Bryan crept toward the living room. Jinnie strained under the weight of the suitcase. Bryan resumed marching, his sneakers thudding on the wood floor.

“Stop!” she hissed.

They paused again, listening for sounds of Grandma Wishner in her room. Jinnie moved forward, sweat beading across the face, her back already aching. She’d have to set the suitcase down soon.

The clock in the living room suddenly chimed. She hefted the bag against her thigh and wobbled forward. “Hurry, we can get out the door while there’s noise.”

Bryan started marching again, but Jinnie didn’t have time to make him stop. Clearly three cokes had been way too much.

They crossed the living room, and Bryan rammed into a side table.

Jinnie didn’t dare say anything. Six chimes, five to go.

Bryan darted around the table, knees still high. Just go, she thought. Come on.

The door creaked lightly as it opened into the night. “Get through!” she whispered.

Bryan slipped outside, and Jinnie stepped onto the porch, pulling the door closed.

“We made it!” Bryan said, his face in shadow. He darted up and down the front steps.

“Please calm down,” Jinnie said. She lurched forward with the bag. They couldn’t walk too far with this overloaded suitcase. “What do you have in this thing?”

“Electronics. Books.” Bryan peered out into the street.

“What are the books for?” Jinnie didn’t have much use for those. She’d pretty much given up on reading in second grade when she got that stupid label. That was three years ago. Learning disabled. Whatever.

“I like books.”

Jinnie braced the bag against her thighs. “Your funeral.”

They both stared across the shadowed lawn, Bryan bouncing lightly in place.

“Stay out of the light,” Jinnie said. “Stick close to the houses until we get to the bus stop.” The routes ran most of the night in this part of Houston. They could take the 73 down to the station, sleep in the bathroom like she’d seen in a movie once, and then go to the science museum in the morning to scope out a place to hide when it closed. She didn’t have a plan beyond that.

They tiptoed past Grandma Wishner’s window. The lights were all out. Jinnie held the suitcase with both hands, swinging it away from her body to take each step.

Suddenly the handle broke. The suitcase sailed forward, crashing against the house in a clang of metal.

“Jinnie!” Bryan leapt for his bag.

A light popped on overhead. Jinnie flattened herself against the wall, hoping Grandma wouldn’t see them if she looked out. The glass pane slid up with a swoosh.

But Bryan couldn’t leave his suitcase alone. He tipped it over, and the contents settled with another clatter.

Grandma leaned out the window and looked down, a white cloth pinned to her head. “What on earth are you children up to?”

Jinnie and Bryan looked at each other. There was no getting out of this one.

“Get on back here. You don’t want me to come out.”

Jinnie clutched the broken suitcase as she trudged inside. Grandma waited in their room, arms crossed. When they set down their bags, she opened the closet door. “Take off your shoes,” she said over her shoulder.

She turned around with her arms full of sneakers, flip flops, sandals—every pair they owned.

“Now hand me the ones you’re wearing too,” she said. “There will be no more sneaking out tonight. Not unless you want to run away barefoot.”

Jinnie fell back on her bed, burying her face in her arms. She’d failed. Failed again.

Grandma sat next to her, arms loaded with shoes, her weathered face pale and tired. “Jinnie, I wish things could be some other way. I don’t want to see you go.”

Bryan sat on the floor, untying his knotted laces. “Will it be awful?”

“Oh no,” she said. “Think of all the things you’ll have—rooms of your own, and clothes, and a fancy private school.”

“Nothing is worth living with those people,” Jinnie said.

Grandma closed her eyes a moment and took a deep breath. “There’s no doubt that your Uncle Martin is light years different from your daddy. Sometimes I wonder how I could have raised two boys so opposite. But he is a Wishner. And you’re a Wishner. And we’ve all got to stick together.”

“I don’t want to stick myself anywhere near them,” Jinnie said.

Grandma pulled her shoe pile further up her lap. “I think you’ll discover that things are about to change for you. I’ve protected you, but soon you’ll learn you’re more powerful than you think.”

Jinnie snorted. “Right, that’s why we have no say on anything.”

Bryan’s cheeks bloomed pink as he passed his shoes to Grandma. “Are mom and dad ever coming back?” he asked. “You said you didn’t believe Uncle Martin.”

Grandma relaxed her arms. The shoes slid down her lap and onto the floor, a cascade of worn canvas, rubber soles, and dirt. “I think all of us are about to have a whole lot more faith in our family.”

Jinnie didn’t buy it in the least.

`•.¸☆ ..☆¸.•´¯`•.¸☆

Jinnie scowled out the window of the limo the next day, red and yellow flowers whizzing by as she and Bryan hurtled toward Austin and their new home.

She slid her finger along the ridges of her camera, trying to decide if she should ask Robert, the driver, to stop and let her photograph the blooms. She couldn’t tell if he was a good guy or not. He worked for Uncle Martin. Probably not.

Bryan started flipping the lid on the trash compartment in the console between them. “Do you think they’ll be mean to us?”

Jinnie turned away from the window. “Ha. They’ll never leave us alone. Like pets.” Guinea pigs, actually.

Bryan pulled the collar of his yellow sweater away from his neck. “Are we going to have to dress like this all the time?”

“They’re sending us to a private school. It’s probably going to get worse. Uniforms.” Watching him, Jinnie felt the urge to tug at her own fancy dress. Her aunt left specific instructions about what they should wear for the trip, and Grandma had just silently handed them the clothes that arrived with the driver and the limo.

The window separating their compartment from the front seat rolled down with a gentle hum. Robert glanced back at them. “Almost there. You kids ready?”

They didn’t answer. Bryan’s cheeks had turned splotchy again.

The sunlight behind the mansion looked as though Aunt Barb had special ordered it. Light spilled across the lake, creating a hot line of gold that led right up to the dock and their backyard.

Robert pressed a switch in the dash and huge iron gates opened silently, leading to a driveway that circled before a fountain of a woman pouring water from a pail.

Jinnie stared at the enormous limestone house. Her aunt and uncle opened the double front doors and stepped out onto the marble porch. A gust of wind caught the fluttering scarves of Aunt Barb’s outfit, and they whipped around her thin body like a maypole. Uncle Martin put his arm around her, smiling broadly beneath his mustache.

Robert opened Jinnie’s door. The dry breeze pushed the loose sprigs of hair from her ponytail into her face.

“Come on up, children!” Aunt Barb called, gesturing with her long arms. “We have a surprise.”

A photographer lugged an oversized camera and a tripod out the front door. Jinnie strained to see what sort of gear he had, but Robert pressed behind her and Bryan, pushing them up the stairs.

“Our first family photo!” Aunt Barb said, shifting slightly to angle her hips and shoulders. “Come up here with us.”

That would explain the clothes. They had been forced to wear them for over three hours just to take a picture. Jinnie lumbered up the stairs, her feet heavy. Bryan also seemed to hesitate, and she ran into him when he stopped abruptly on the last step.

Uncle Martin laid his hand on Bryan’s shoulder, pulling him close. Aunt Barb turned Jinnie to the camera and tugged her hair out of the ponytail. Jinnie welled with resentment as the photographer peered through the eyepiece.

“Smile, children!” Aunt Barb said.

Just as the white light burst upon them, Jinnie thought, this is not and will never be my family.

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