Hi.
I'm CL Monroe
I write books about teenagers, and monsters, and teenagers who are monsters. And speaking of monsters, what if they were real, but they weren't the worst thing hiding in the dark?
In The Monster of Seven Falls, fifteen-year-old June Robinson just discovered she's a werecat. But when someone she loves is mysteriously kidnapped, will her monstrous new powers be enough to piece together the clues and rescue them from an evil that is centuries old?
Scroll down to read the first chapter of The Monster of Seven Falls. And if you like it, sign up for my email list to receive the second and third chapters as well.
If you scroll all the way to the bottom, you win a prize: you get to hear my origin story.
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The First Three Chapters of The Monster of Seven Falls
The Monster of Seven Falls
CHAPTER 1
“License plates, June.”
June Robinson, staring out the passenger window, stirred from soaring through the sky, the wind in her wings and freedom in her bones. This wasn’t just a random daydream—as a young girl she had seen her mom turn into an owl monster, and ever since, her fantasies always involved being an owl. She never imagined any other kind of animal.
June was of average height and often described as “big boned” by people who thought that was somehow a kind or encouraging thing to say. She had long, straight black hair that went just past her shoulders, and legs and arms that seemed a little too long and a little too thick for her body. And, until five days ago, she had brown eyes that were more oval than round.
“What were the license plates of the last two cars we passed?” her mom, Cordelia Robinson, demanded. Their Jeep shuddered as Cordelia took a turn at a high speed, the highway winding through the Great Smoky Mountains. After the eye doctor's appointment that morning, June would arrive at school having only missed first period. Thick fog hung over the landscape, lingering despite the sun overhead. The morning air smelled of wet leaves and fall.
“I’m tired," June said in reply to Cordelia’s question, “and I’ve got a math test today that I’m thinking about.”
“Speaking of, how did your science test go?”
June hesitated. “I got a 93.”
“Only 93? Were you even trying?” Cordelia’s voice was cold.
June felt a familiar hollowness settle into her chest. “Of course. And 93 is still an A.”
“Sure. It’s a mediocre A. I thought you were better than mediocre. Now tell me the license plates.”
Soaring the sky or not, her mom’s training ran deep, and June had still managed to note the passing cars. And, of course, their license plate numbers, which she recited while slumping deeper into the warm leather seat. This training, Cordelia claimed, would equip June so that she never ended up a victim. Cordelia never clarified the meaning of “victim,” but June wasn’t exactly concerned about crime in Seven Falls, which consisted primarily of arrests for streaking or driving a riding mower under the influence. At least until very recently.
Before Cordelia could ask something like how many speed limit signs they had passed since leaving the doctor’s office, or how many pieces of trash littered the side of the road since the last mile marker, June spoke up. “I heard Dr. Beckett say something about us getting a second opinion about my eyes. Still sure nothing will happen to me tonight?” A hopeful grin rounded her face. At midnight, June would turn fifteen. When Cordelia turned fifteen, the whole owl thing had happened. But for years, Cordelia had assured June that she would not turn into an owl on her fifteenth birthday.
“Yes,” Cordelia replied flatly.
“But the color…” June said, pointing to her eyes for emphasis.
Cordelia’s mouth formed a thin, tight line before she answered. “I’ve never heard of any changes occurring quite like this. Which makes me all the more certain you won't Shift and this recent business with your eyes is all you’re going to get.”
Cordelia sounded confident, but her argument wasn’t convincing. Why would June’s eyes change color if nothing else was going to happen? And not only had they changed color, but June no longer needed her eyeglasses—she had perfect vision. Then there was her improved sense of smell and hearing, but she hadn’t told Cordelia about those things yet, because Cordelia had started acting super weird when June’s eyes changed.
June studied her mom. Cordelia’s jaw slid back and forth (June could actually hear her teeth grinding) and her feathery brown hair, with the occasional streak of gray, looked dull and sticky. Her round, brownish-orangish eyes were puffy and had dark bags underneath, making them even more bird-like. June sniffed the air and noticed a sour odor coming from Cordelia’s side of the car. She was wearing the same outfit she had worn for the past two days; the jeans and light purple sweater were saggy and tired, matching her eyes all the more. If she hadn’t changed clothes, she probably hadn’t bathed either.
June couldn’t remember ever seeing Cordelia like this, even after that one time she had gotten food poisoning. Despite long and loud hours in the bathroom, Cordelia still managed to shower and change clothes within twenty-four hours.
But Cordelia’s bathing and changing-clothes-like-a-normal-person streak had ended on the same day June’s eyes suddenly went from brown to yellow.
“Is everything okay?” June asked. “You haven’t changed clothes in days.”
“It’s just work—some of my research—that’s all,” Cordelia replied. She waved a hand in the air dismissively.
This was a lie. Cordelia never got stressed about work. She loved it. It was her life. And she did it all the time. June waited a few seconds before poking again. “Are you sure you aren’t concerned about being wrong? I’m not the expert, but it seems like genetics doesn’t explain—”
“Genetics explains everything!” Cordelia snapped, running a hand through her hair so roughly that June guessed clumps of dull, sticky hair would soon be missing.
June leaned back, making sure her own hair was out of Cordelia’s reach. “You’ve always known it could happen to me, right?”
Cordelia looked at her hands. Her eyes widened briefly, and she shook loose the strands of hair tangled in her fingers. She took several slow breaths. “It’s not happening, June, and that’s not such a bad thing. You’ll get to live a normal life.”
“What if I don’t want a normal life?”
“Then you’d be perfectly normal,” Cordelia answered. Her mouth formed a faint grin while one hand rubbed the necklace under her sweater. While Cordelia had engaged in a few odd new behaviors since June’s eyes decided to transfigure themselves, rubbing her necklace like it contained a genie was not one of them—she’d been doing that for as long as June could remember. Though to be fair, the amethyst square hanging from the necklace was large enough to house a creature inside. “Everyone thinks they want to be different until they find out what it’s like. I have good news for you though—I’m teaching you how to be different in ways you can control. So, tell me, how many speed limit signs have we passed since leaving the doctor’s office?”
With a grumble, June gave the correct answer and went back to staring out the window, waiting for the next inane question. But none came. Instead, Cordelia said, “Since you’re buying your lunch today, make sure to get a salad or something else healthy.” She glanced at June’s thighs, then turned back to the road.
June’s cheeks burned and the hollowness that had formed in her chest spread to her stomach. Criticizing June’s weight wasn’t a new behavior either; Cordelia had been doing that for time immemorial. June surreptitiously looked down so Cordelia wouldn’t notice and studied the outline of her legs under the flower-patterned, ill-fitting dress she was wearing. Her thighs looked as thick as ever. Maybe if Cordelia let her pick out her own clothes, her weight wouldn’t be so noticeable. After a few minutes of silence, June went back to flying, high in the sky, desperate for the feeling of freedom again.
She only returned to the car once, after Cordelia turned up the radio, to listen long enough to hear that a young girl had gone missing in the forest. Disappearances were becoming a daily event.
SUBSCRIBE & RECEIVE
The First Three Chapters of The Monster of Seven Falls
ABOUT CL MONROE
CL's love of story began when he read Jurassic Park at the beginning of fourth grade. However, shortly afterwards, he was groomed for life as an attorney. So it was that he put a burgeoning passion for story aside to devote himself to the serious task of preparing for, and eventually being, a lawyer. In the process he spent tens of thousands of hours writing tens of millions of words, nearly all of them dry and dull, and if they were especially effective, lulling people to sleep.
Then, when CL was firmly established as a master of the written word in its dreariest form, he was given The Lord of the Rings by a friend. And there, at Bilbo’s eleventy-first birthday party, the old fire, first discovered on Isla Nublar, sparked back to life. Eventually that spark became a blaze, and CL exchanged writing dreary and pallid words for colorful and rousing words.
