Christopher Kringle & The Seven Year Curse (eBook)
400 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3178-2507-2 (ISBN)
Dr. P didn't set out to write a book about Santa Claus-he was simply taking his children to the mall at Christmastime when two mysterious brothers, Chris and Wally Kringle, confided a secret never shared. One wore red and carried a briefcase full of old diaries; the other held a cryptic book called ARTEM IMPERIUM. Neither would leave until Dr. P agreed to write down their story. What followed was a journey through lost history, magical secrets, and the origins of the Kringle family. When he's not decoding ancient riddles or tracking down Santa's long-lost birth records, Dr. P works as a sports medicine doctor and story-stitcher for the North Pole's favorite family. The Seven-Year Curse is the first book in his nine-part saga featuring Christopher Kringle.
On January 1st, 1900-during a snowstorm like no other-a mysterious boy is born in a Manhattan hospital. His name is Christopher Kringle. He arrives with dimples like his mother's, eyes no one can explain, and a future even he doesn't understand. Some call him lucky. Others say he's cursed. But only a few know the truth: he carries the DNA of every known civilization and a secret that powerful men will do anything to destroy. Christopher Kringle & The Seven-Year Curse is the first book in a nine-part saga chronicling the hidden origin of Santa Claus. As Christopher grows up in the heart of New York's immigrant neighborhoods, he's surrounded by love, mystery, and danger. His guardians Julianna and Aunt Shirley do everything they can to protect him from the eyes of the Confraters, an ancient secret society that has shaped history through control, fear, and a forbidden book known only as ARTEM IMPERIUM. Over the course of this richly woven tale, readers will meet the entire Kringle family; a goldfish named Bubbles; a silent boy hiding in a barn; and the "e;famous"e; helpers some kind, some mysterious who guide Christopher's early life. Alongside his miraculous birth and unexpected upbringing, Christopher must come to terms with a chilling reality: a mysterious curse that threatens his life every seven years. Blending magical realism with historical depth, The Seven-Year Curse transports readers into a world where every Christmas tradition has a hidden beginning and every act of kindness plants the seed of something far greater. It's a story of resilience, sacrifice, imagination, and the enduring belief that helping others especially when it's hardest is the first step toward changing the world. Ideal for parents reading aloud to children ages 7 12, for independent readers who love character-driven fantasy, and for families looking to begin a meaningful new Christmas tradition one filled with wonder, mystery, and heart.
Terrible Twos
Manhattan, New York (December 1901)
Reclining in the darkness of her living room, Julianna analyzed the soft glow from the streetlamps casting long shadows across the tall kitchen walls. She resumed rocking slowly, careful not to wake the child in her arms, and gently covered his ears when Luke accidentally clinked a cup against the cupboard door. She closed her eyes and pretended not to hear.
It had been two long, exhausting years since Elena died, leaving behind a baby who needed everything and a void that nothing could fill. Each day had been a struggle against the suffering in her heart, a constant reminder of the lives that were lost and the life she now had to carry on. Only a minute earlier she was thinking about Johnny, her son, named after her mother’s father whom she never met. Now she was thinking about Christopher—and the monotony of their daily routine.
This particular Wednesday, the last one in December, marked the anniversary of Johnny. Luke never brought it up and neither did her family or Shirley, so Julianna knew she would have to remember him alone. A month earlier, she had hung a calendar and circled the date in remembrance of his life. She spotted the calendar in the shadows, rested her eyes, and held Christopher closer while he slept. She tried to relax as Luke got ready for work.
Today will be different, she thought, rubbing her temples. Maybe I should get up and help? Julianna carried Chris to his crib, making sure he remained asleep, then lit a candle in the nursery. Back in the kitchen she put her hands around Luke’s warm mug.
“What are you doing up?” Luke asked quietly as he turned the corner from his bedroom.
Julianna quickly grabbed another mug, along with a spoon and some sugar. “I couldn’t sleep again.”
“Here, let me help you,” he said, pouring her a cup.
“Where are you off to today?” she whispered in the dark, her face striped with the orange glow of the streetlamps filtering through the kitchen blinds.
“We’re helping Shirley move. Remember? Me and the fellas have the day off.”
Julianna hadn’t remembered. She sighed, sipped her coffee, and went through her mental checklist. Diapers. Breakfast. Playtime. Lunch. Diapers. Naptime. Dinner. Diapers. Bath. Bedtime. Her life was a never-ending cycle of caring for others.
Luke recognized her familiar pause, which usually told him that something was bothering her. “Is there anything you need me to do before the guys get here?”
“No,” she said, looking at the clock. It was 5:30 a.m. “The only errand we have today is going to the drug store to pick up some new medication.”
“I forgot to ask you last night, did the doctors say anything more about Christopher?”
She put her head down and stretched her neck. Her headache hadn’t subsided in a few days and the topic of a toddler’s poor health only made it worse. “They still don’t know what’s wrong.”
“You have to give me more than that, Julia.”
She had been putting off telling him until the doctors had more than just guesses, but how could she keep him in the dark now? “Luke,” she said tenderly, “one of the doctors thinks Christopher may have a rare brain tumor or some type of cancer.”
“What? Why would they say—?”
“I don’t know,” Julianna mumbled quietly. “They did all the same tests, but this time one of the younger physicians hit his knee with a rubber hammer. Your son kicked the doctor in the chin and sent him flying backwards.”
“Isn’t that good?” Luke said with a nervous laugh. “Maybe he’s got strong reflexes?”
“It’s not. They called it hyperreflexia. It means something’s wrong with his brain or spinal cord. They were very concerned.”
There was a moment of reflection between them as her voice trailed off. Julianna put away a loose map and pulled a piece of paper from one of the kitchen drawers—where she saw the medical jargon: “Relative Afferent Pupillary Defect.”
“What’s this mean?” Luke asked.
“The doctors said something strange about his eyes—something about how they react backward to bright lights. They seem worried, Luke, truly worried.”
“That’s horrible. Do you think he’ll be okay?”
“I’m not sure what to think anymore, Luke. It’s just weird that the physicians keep saying he won’t make it past age seven—specifically seven. And Elena said that Christopher’s life would change dramatically every seven years.”
“Did you ever tell them what she said?”
“Of course not. They’re doctors, not psychics. But it’s eerie, isn’t it?—how she came up with the same number before he was born?”
“She kept a lot of secrets,” Luke added. “Half the time she spoke I couldn’t understand what she was trying to say.”
Julianna considered revealing what Elena had once said—that his son might be born with certain talents or gifts that no doctor would be able to explain. But she held her tongue. There was no sense raising hopes without reason.
“Are you sure she never showed you this?” Julianna asked, returning the medical note to the drawer and pulling out the wooden coin Elena gave her before she passed.
“As I’ve said a million times, Julia, I’ve never seen it before you showed me.”
Julianna studied the odd engraving before she put it away. The wooden disk contained an image of a triangle and what she believed to be a quill used for writing, but it was difficult to see because the coin was old and weathered. “Magister Artis,” she said quietly, taking a closer look. “The master of arts, which is perfect—because we both know how Elena loved books.”
A sudden symphony of honks stirred the block awake. Luke moved to the window overlooking the park. Julianna paused, waiting for Christopher’s first cry of the morning—but the silence held. Curious now, she joined Luke and pulled back the curtain, revealing a line of trucks stretching down the road.
“My parents used to have a saying: ‘La vita è difficile, quindi abbiamo bisogno di due padri.’”
Luke laughed. “I speak German, Julia, not Italian.”
“It means ‘life is difficult, so we need two fathers.’ That’s why we Italians have Godfathers.”
“Sounds like something Elena would say, but I think it’s a little early for riddles.”
“I’m saying don’t forget to ask Nic. He’s your closest friend now that Anthony has abandoned us.”
“If the time is right, I’ll ask him. I promise. Elena trusted him more than anyone.”
Luke grabbed his jacket and headed toward the door. “I should be home tomorrow evening. And if I can convince Shirley to come back with me, I will.”
“Thank you,” she said as they trudged down the concrete staircase that led to the street.
“Give Christopher a kiss for me when he wakes up,” Luke said, climbing into the first truck in the convoy.
“I will. Be safe,” Julianna said, her hot breath turning to steam. One of the drivers noticed her in her nightgown. He tightened his jacket and motioned for her to bundle up. She didn’t count them, but at least a dozen trucks rolled by.
Standing at the front of her building with the oil street lamps glowing all around, Julianna took in the dampness and the darkness of Bayard Street. The grassy clearings in Columbus Park looked foggy, shadowy, and wet. The park entrance pavilion always reminded her of Elena—and their dreams of playing with their children together.
After Julianna waved to the last driver bound for New Jersey, the street became quiet and she returned to her flat—apartment 100-A, the first door on the left. She didn’t hesitate to lock the door because with this weather, she didn’t want to go anywhere. The sun likely wouldn’t show its face before noon.
Even though the city was ready for the holidays, Julianna had no intentions of celebrating anything. Today was her darkest day of the year—her own personal winter solstice. Over the past two years, her family had practically deserted her. Only her youngest sister Marci visited. Most of her friends from back home hadn’t spoken to her either because Anthony lied and told everyone that she had called off the engagement. To make matters worse, her ex wasn’t afraid to tell even her family members how reclusive she’d become. Her only joy in life was asleep in her home.
Today is the perfect day for a fire, she thought to herself, gathering the kindling and striking a match. Maybe the heat will help my headache.
She returned to the rocker by the couch. The soft embers from the fireplace and the glare from the streetlamps were all her senses could handle. Christopher was asleep, the city was noiseless, and Luke was gone. This was her alone time, but she felt miserable.
One of Elena’s favorite books — The Iliad, by Homer — lay open on the end table. Elena always said how important the story was for Christopher, but she never explained why. Julianna picked up where she left off the night before and her eyes locked on to one specific passage, from Chapters 9.14-9.16:
“For my mother Thetis, the goddess of silver feet,
tells me I carry two sorts of destiny toward the day of my death.
Either, if...
| Erscheint lt. Verlag | 24.11.2025 |
|---|---|
| Sprache | englisch |
| Themenwelt | Kinder- / Jugendbuch |
| ISBN-13 | 979-8-3178-2507-2 / 9798317825072 |
| Informationen gemäß Produktsicherheitsverordnung (GPSR) | |
| Haben Sie eine Frage zum Produkt? |
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