May 05, 2026
Middle Grade Fiction
Date Published: Feb 24, 2026
Publisher: Small Circles Press
Ivy Leigh’s a feisty eleven, almost twelve-year-old who could never imagine using a fist to solve a problem. But that was before. Before Momma died. Before her BFFs, Lizzie and Ruthie, started pressuring her to change. Before they told her that Michael, the cutest boy in school, has a crush on her. And, before two jealous bullies—Rachel and Winona teamed up to badger her on the bus and at school. Rachel calls her ‘Poison Ivy.’ Winona shoves her into a crowd at school. Hurt and humiliated, Ivy Leigh, on impulse, fights back. It’s a mistake she instantly regrets.
Ruthie and Lashonna know these bullies. They know their backstories and where they’ve come from. But they’re not the only ones. A cast of quirky characters like Mr. Winters, the wannabe cowboy next door who speaks his advice in the language of old-world slogans. There’s Miss Aurelia, an old hippy, whose eyes don’t work so well anymore, but who has a special kind of wisdom she shares with Ivy Leigh. And there’s Momma’s best friend, Miss Neola, who takes Ivy under her wing, and helps her understand that bullies have struggles too.
In the end, Ivy stands up for herself, not with a fist, but with a heart, walking in the shoes of Rachel and Winona, Lizzie and Ruthie, and even Grandma and her sister, Viv, who all struggle with loss and loneliness and sometimes misunderstanding too. Ivy soon learns that through all of this, she has never been alone, that Momma is still living in her midst, under that strawberry moon they both loved so much.
Excerpt
Chapter One: The Package
“She’s coming for you, Peachy.”
He leaped off the bed and scrambled toward me. Together, we stood at the window, watching. I’d heard the roar of that muffler. The sound of the crash. It all spelled trouble. Up until now, Peachy was unknown to her. But I knew it would never stay that way. Dad was at work. She always knew the perfect time to strike.
“That was Mom’s gnome!” Nat’s shriek pierced the air, and I knew this was going to be bad. I took the stairs two at a time, in boxers and a tank top, with Peachy trailing behind. It was early on a Saturday, Viv was still in bed, and I hadn’t even brushed my teeth. But that never mattered to Grandma. This was a surprise attack; we were in her sights, and she had a total takeover in mind. I tucked Peachy away in his crate and latched him in tight before heading out to the front porch to see what was going on.
And there she was. Bulb shaped and full of bluster, Grandma stood with Nat at her side, staring down at the smashed garden gnome. He was pink-faced with a green hat and a little red jacket. Mom named him ‘Happy.’ He made her laugh just to look at him in the midst of her treatments and trips to and from the hospital. But now Happy was here all smashed up in the garden, and Mom had been gone for almost a whole awful year.
“That is the tackiest thing! People will question the sort of people who live in a house with a thing like that out front!”
Things went quiet for a moment, I don’t think Nat even knew what to say to that.
But I knew this wasn’t going to be about the garden gnome. She’d come about Peachy who we’d hidden from her for a whole two weeks. But I’d had a funny feeling about that lately, Grandma had eyes and ears everywhere.
A minute later, I heard the squeak of metal behind me. And then, to my shock and surprise, the screen door flew open. Within seconds, Peachy bolted out, lunged at Grandma and nearly knocked her off her feet. How on earth did he get out of there, I thought.
“This! she bellowed. “This is exactly why I’m here!” Her face was wrinkled, powdered and puffed, with a coat of bright red lipstick smeared across her lips. Cruella had nothing on her. A true animal hater, she shrieked again at the sight of him.
I came running down the sidewalk then and scooped Peachy up in my arms. “It’s okay, boy,” I said, rubbing his peach-colored fur and holding him close.
“It is not okay! That dog has accosted the neighbors and now he’s attacked me! Always on the loose, with no training and no hope of it at all. Why was I not told about him?”
About the Author
Gael Lynch is a writer and storyteller, a teacher whose love of kids and furry creatures has followed her throughout her life. She now lives in coastal Carolina, a place of sunny beaches and warm breezes with her husband Tom and her rambunctious golden retriever, Wrigley. However, Newtown, Connecticut, with its pastoral beauty and kind-hearted people will always be a place she calls home.
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Twitter @gaellynch
Instagram: @lynchgael
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