Start with a story. Stay for the system.
Welcome to Little Brave Hearts.
A trauma-informed children’s book series helping
kids and their caregivers build emotional safety,
resilience, and communication—one small moment
at a time. Rooted in lived experience and peer support
principles, Little Brave Hearts offers printable tools,
reflective story work, and a language of connection
designed to meet children where they are and walk with
them toward healing. Each book is co-narrated by Kayla
and Cole, two real siblings who don’t teach from
perfection. They guide from lived truth, emotional courage,
and gentle humor. Together, they walk beside children through
grief, self-discovery, fear, and resilience, offering a language for pain, a toolkit for healing, and a reminder that we grow
stronger when we are together. Little Brave Hearts is more than a story arc—it’s a healing system. Each book is just one
doorway into a wider emotional world. Together, the series forms a complete support ecosystem with
tactile tools, reflective prompts, and immersive experiences designed for both children and caregivers.
Here, stories become mirrors. And emotional safety becomes a system, not just a moment.
Whether you are a publisher, editor, or educational partner, this site offers a first look at a deeply
needed, profoundly personal project.
We’re not just building a brand.
We’re building brave hearts.
One page, one story, one child at a time.
Sample Manuscript
Awareness: Seeing What’s Inside Me
This preview includes a short story and reflection components. The full book format includes additional features, like caregiver prompts, emotional vocabulary, and reflections.
Hi, I’m Kayla.
This story is about a day when I didn’t know how I felt, but something helped me notice. I want to share what I learned… and maybe it’ll help you, too.
Kayla: Cole and I made up a game called Wacky Wizard.
Well, I made it up. Cole just makes up the weirdest rules. He says it’s not real magic unless your voice echoes off the walls.
I say it’s not real unless your wand is made out of something silly—like a glowstick or a toothbrush. Today, Cole found a soggy sock and called it “The Staff of Zog.” He spun it like a spaghetti noodle and shouted:
“AHGLARA AGNAR ADEI! I turn you into a big ol' scaredy cat!”
He fell over laughing. I laughed too. Sort of. But then I didn’t. Something inside me twisted. Like my heart flinched. He wasn’t trying to be mean.
But I told him I don’t like being teased for being scared sometimes. I looked away. My smile slipped off like a coat that didn’t fit anymore.
I tried to keep playing because we were having fun. I tried to make the weird feelings go away. But my brain felt like a blender mixing up worry, disappointment, and frustration. My chest buzzed like a beehive because I didn’t want Cole to blame me for ruining the game. I didn’t know what to do with all of these feelings—Just that it was too many at one time.
So I walked away instead. I felt angry with myself for the fun ending. I wanted to cry because I thought Cole didn’t understand that I don’t like being called names.
(Kayla sits by the window, holding something in her hand.)
Kayla: I took out my Reflection Stone. It’s smooth and blue, with a tiny silver star on top. It feels cold at first, until you hold it. It fits in my hand like it belongs there. I never thought it would help me so much, but it does. Dr. L gave it to me. He’s the counselor at school. He says some feelings whisper.
I wasn’t really sure what he meant by that, but I think I figured it out. The stone helps you listen to your quiet feelings that need to be heard. I rubbed my thumb across the star on top, it calms me down without needing to try hard.
I like to take a deep breath in and pretend I’m a star too. Then I breathed out. Dr. L told me when my feelings are knotted up really tight, to try squeezing my fingers into fists.
Then relax them, I like to wiggle them after I squeeze them because it feels like melting. The more I rub the stone in my hand, the more gently my thoughts slow down.
That’s when I feel my whole body start to settle down. My chest stopped buzzing and the blender stopped mixing me up into a sour smoothie. I start to feel like myself again. Sometimes my thoughts will go on a memory walk. Today, I remembered when Cole and I were drawing chalk dragons in the driveway. He drew his falling into a pothole! I had the hiccups from laughing so hard.
(Illi. of chalk dragon scene with Cole’s stuck in a pot hole)
That memory made my stomach feel warm, and I smiled. It didn’t fix what happened today. But it gave me a little more space to breathe and think about my feelings clearly. That’s what awareness does. It helps you solve the mystery in your mind.
Feeling better, I took another deep belly breath. The kind that goes all the way down. That’s when Cole came over.
(Illi. cut scene to Cole looking at Kalya sitting by the window.)
Cole: She was too quiet; she walked away like we weren’t even playing together. Kayla didn’t look mad. But something wasn’t right. And then I remembered when she told me once not to call her a scaredy cat. Not even as a joke. I honestly forgot. Not on purpose. But forgetting when someone tells you something important still has an impact. It’s like a ripple in a pond. Even if you didn’t mean to throw the rock, the splash still spreads. I sat next to her.
“What’s that rock again?”
She looked at me. “It’s my Reflection Stone, the one Dr. L gave me when I started seeing him about my nightmares,” she said. “It helps me figure out what I’m feeling… when I don’t know where to start figuring it all out.”
I nodded, remembering now. “Can I try it?”
She handed it to me. It was warm from her hand. I rubbed my thumb across the star. It made me think about the shape and the color and the weight, instead of thinking so much about hurting Kayla’s feelings. I told Kayla I was sorry that I had Swiss Cheese in my head, and that’s why my memories slip through the holes sometimes. I felt bad that I forgot, but I was also frustrated because it was just a mistake and it ruined the game. Then I had an idea!
Nudging Kayla’s shoulder, I said, “This stone is kinda cool, can I make one too?”
She smiled. “Sure! We can find a stone in the garden and paint it, if you want. That’s what Dr. L said—it doesn’t have to be a stone or anything fancy. Just has to be special to you.”
(They kneel in the garden. Cole finds a small stone and paints a yellow spiral.)
Cole: Mine has a little yellow spiral. I like the spiral because the shape reminds me that things may change, but it doesn’t really end.
Painting it made me feel calm, like I was putting my feelings into something real I could hold. Now I understand why Kayla sits quietly with hers sometimes.
I call mine the “Un-Tangler.” It doesn’t fix the problem for me, but when my chest feels tight and my words get tangled, I hold it until I know how to solve the problem myself. It helps me slow down and to notice all of my feelings and thoughts. That’s why Dr. L calls it “The Reflection Stone.” And that’s one way I can start to feel connected to my feelings again. Even when things get messy.
Reflection Room:
Kayla: Sometimes, my feelings are so quiet I almost miss them, and I want to ignore them because I don’t want them to get loud. But when I pause and reflect, even the small ones, the confused ones, or the blended ones, start to feel less lonely.
Have you ever felt fine one minute, and it changed, but you didn’t know why?
Cole: Yeah, that happens to me, too. That’s why I made my own Reflection Stone.
It helps me slow down, check in, and figure out what I need.
What helps you when you feel mixed up inside?
Kayla: What would your own reflection object look like?
Would it be a stone? A shell? A drawing? Something soft?
You can even make one with a grown-up. Try painting it with a symbol that feels like you. A star, an animal, a favorite shape.
Cole: Awareness means noticing what’s really going on inside you.
What do you want to remember the next time your feelings feel confusing?
Kayla: Whatever you choose, just know this:
You don’t have to understand everything to begin, there’s no perfect answer.
You just have to notice what’s inside, because you need that, and you deserve that.
And that is perfect enough!
I believe children deserve more than stories. They deserve intrinsic knowledge.
Little Brave Hearts offers both.
The series is fully envisioned, the framework is complete, and the first titles are ready.
What comes next is creation, with the right publisher, the right illustrator, and our brave hearts.
If this vision resonates, I’d love to connect.
To begin the conversation, click the link below.