Carla Richards is a pseudonym for Trudy Weddington and Stacia Faith, sisters collaborating to write children’s books that enhance the imaginations of young readers. One of the authors goals is to teach family values and self-discipline through crafting a fun story.
Trudy Weddington lives in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Having had several articles published in her youth and written other genres, she hopes to continue writing for the benefit of children.
She is married with three grown children and five grandchildren. Trudy enjoys reading several books simultaneously, loves to travel and enjoyed membership in the Society for Creative Anachronism for a number of years.
Other than being a successful writer when she grows up (if she ever does), one of Trudy’s goals is to eat chocolate cake decorated with gold at Maxim’s in Paris!
Stacia Faith, lives in Houston, Texas, is married with three grown children, and three grandchildren. She is a singer-songwriter, poet, and has written short stories, and screenplay treatments, as well as historic romances.
She is a member of The Society for Children’s Books Writers and Illustrators and has received several writing awards as a member of Fort Bend Writer’s Guild.
Stacia enjoys reading, writing, and music, and dreams of taking the entire family on a trip around the world!
"Uh oh." Spike leaped completely out of the flowerpot into the surrounding grass and bounded across the yard as fast as his legs could carry him. "I’m in trouble again, I am, I am." The grass seemed so tall that he could scarcely see above the towering blades. Insects buzzed loudly within the grassy jungle and flew above Spike’s head.
"Get out of my way! Move!" Spike squeaked as he made his way to the big oak tree. He vaulted onto the trunk and circled round and round.
WHUMP! His nose smashed into a cushy chest nearly knocking him free of his grip. Shaking his head to gain vision brought forth the image of his mother, her mouth a slash of disapproval, and brown eyes glittering with anger.
"Spike. You’re out of the nest without my permission. It is by The Great Gatherer’s grant that you have survived this day and you can count your lucky whiskers that I don’t thwack you all the way home."
"I’m sorry, Mama. Truly I am, I am. But I just had to go out on my own. The waiting is bad enough but the others taunt and tease me!"
"What others?" She questioned as she nosed him toward a large loose-leafed nest near the top of the tree.
Two little squirrels jumped into view and ran along the branches squeaking and flicking their tails.
"Oh Spiky! Precious little Spiky!" Spike’s sister, Vona, dashed away out on a limb.
"Slow squirrel, spiky tail, you’re in deep acorn shells!" Veda, his other sister yelled in a sing-song manner, then turned and flicked her full bushy tail.
"See!" Spike whined, "They do, and soon every squirrel in four backyards are gonna, they are, they are!"
"Girls, come to the nest right now," their mama commanded. They all made their way above. The girls cuddled into the leaves on one side while Spike settled beside his mama on the other.
"Now," she began, "This has gone on long enough. You two must stop this nonsense. Spike can’t help it if his tail has not yet grown all in."
"I hate my name and I hate my tail! Why didn’t ya name me after somebody, too?" Spike questioned. His sisters were named after their Grandmother, Voda.
He didn’t understand why he also wasn’t given a name worth clicking!
"Your name is right for you, Spike, and besides, one day you’ll make a new name for yourself. Let me tell you a story."
Spike squirmed, "Awwww! Why’re you gonna tell another story, Mama? Why? Why?"
"Squirrels love to tell stories, Spike. In the first place, that’s how knowledge is passed from one generation to the next. This is how we learn about family histories and squirrel traditions. Besides, between frolicking, foraging and snoozing, what else have we got to do? So, you pay attention. Someday, you, too, will want to tell them."
"Go on, Mama," begged Vona.
Veda jumped up and sidled next to her, "Yes. We want to hear."
The story began, "I wanted my babies to have the right names because names are very important. They add to one’s personality, and I wanted you to have all the confidence in the world.
"I named you girls after your famous grandmother, Voda. I changed the "O" to "E" for one of you and changed the "D" to an "N" for the other."
Mama Vera continued, "You," she lovingly touched her nose with the little girl’s, "have always been such a sweet, quiet baby. The name, Vona, seemed just right for you." The youngster’s extra long face and long, pointy nose reminded Mama Vera of Squeal Squirrel, their father.
