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Roberta Olsen Major
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It’s hard being the imperfect daughter of the perfect couple. Tally’s mother is the beautiful Snow White, her father, the former Prince Charming. When they decide it’s time for Tally to choose a consort, she does what any self-respecting princess would do under the same circumstances—she runs!
With a few hints from her six vertically-challenged honorary uncles, Tally sets off on a quest to find the missing seventh dwarf—and some answers to questions about herself and her future as the heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Placidity
Having a beautiful mother is a curse.
Not the “Poof! You’re a toad!” kind of curse. More like the “You’re Queen Snow’s daughter? And does King Charming suspect she fooled around with a homely peasant dairyman nine months before you were born?” kind of curse.
“You are just a late bloomer, darling girl.” Mother said this to me practically every day, always making an attempt to fluff my plain brown braids as if they were golden gossamer curls.
“You are beautiful to me.” Father offered this helpful comment every other day, making sure to kiss my cheek as if it were rosy alabaster instead of spattered with freckles.
In fact, by the time I was thirteen, I’d just about decided that I was either adopted, or the beautiful Snow White had not been as snowy white as hunky Prince Charming had believed when he’d planted that miraculous kiss on her ruby lips. I mean, it couldn’t have been the first time a less than one hundred percent pure pedigreed prince or princess had shot out into the Royal Midwife’s waiting hands.
Besides which, Mother had been sleeping like a dead person for quite awhile before Father ever showed up.
A lot can happen when you’re sleeping.
There she was, stretched out on her bier with her smooth white hands folded at her tiny waist, her raven black hair fanning out in glossy curls on her pillow, her lips pink and plump--and closed.
That’s another reason to be suspicious. My lips are hardly ever closed. I even talk in my sleep.
But back to Mother.
There she was: beautiful and passive, stretched out on what amounted to a bed, while seven testosterone-filled men watched over her around the clock.
Have you ever noticed that it’s the shorter ones who seem to have extra testosterone?
Maybe one of them got tired of just watching.
How else could I have ended up short and plain, with a gorgeous mom, a dashing dad, and six robust, if vertically-challenged, uncles?
And where was Tussle Furskin, the seventh dwarf?
Roberta Olsen Major wore out two toy typewriters as a child before her parents decided it would be more frugal to provide her with the real thing. Throughout junior high and high school, she used two fingers to tap out lurid, angst-filled stories peopled with impossibly beautiful characters speaking highly improbable dialogue.
After earning a BA from Brigham Young University, she worked as a librarian in sensible shoes, before switching her Major to the care and feeding of a scientific husband and two charming children.
A published playwright and reviewer of children’s books, she now lives in Texas, where she collects dust, gets taken for daily walks by her faithful Schnauzers, and is, as always, working on her next book.
The Ice Cream Crone: “…a galloping romp of hilarity on a quest of pure enjoyment. Roberta Olsen Major delights her readers with wit, puns, and good old silliness… filled with the perfect combination of chivalry and joviality… Life, love and the pursuit of laughter reign…” --Joyce Handzo, In the Library Reviews, October 10, 2003
The Ice Cream Crone: “… takes ‘happily ever after’ a hop, skip and a jump farther, leading the child in us all on a merry romp through ‘what if’.” -- Pam Ripling, author of Locker Shock!
Book Publisher: Wings ePress
No. of Pages: 148
Paper Weight (lb): 6.6
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