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19,000 | 0 | Alexa Andrews lives in New York, New York. John & Wendy live in Brooklyn, New York.; Title: Cat Days (Penguin Young Readers, Level 1) | [
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19,001 | 2 | Grosset & Dunlap creates high-quality books for young readers of any level. Focused on books for ages 012, Grosset offers a wide range of original fiction series, nonfiction titles, leveled readers, and licensed tie-ins to captivate every reader.; Title: Silly Bunny Tales (Max and Ruby) | [
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19,002 | 2 | Giada De Laurentiis was born in Rome and grew up in a big Italian family. They spent lots of time together in the kitchen, which is where Giada discovered her love of cooking! Later, she would hone her skills at Le Cordon Bleu, a very cool cooking school in Paris. Many puff pastries and a graduation later, Giada began working in a fab restaurant called Spago in Los Angeles. Shortly after, she founded her very own catering company. She is now the Emmy Award-winning star of Food Network's Everyday Italian, Giada's Weekend Getaways, Giada in Paradise, and Giada at Home, as well as the author of six cookbooks. She lives with her husband Todd and daughter Jade in a cozy house by the beach in Los Angeles. Giada loves the colors "pesto-green" and "eggplant-purple," and Nutella pancakes are her favorite treat to share with Jade.; Title: Hong Kong! #3 (Recipe for Adventure) | [
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19,003 | 2 | Giada De Laurentiis was born in Rome and grew up in a big Italian family. They spent lots of time together in the kitchen, which is where Giada discovered her love of cooking! Later, she would hone her skills at Le Cordon Bleu, a very cool cooking school in Paris. Many puff pastries and a graduation later, Giada began working in a fab restaurant called Spago in Los Angeles. Shortly after, she founded her very own catering company. She is now the Emmy Award-winning star of Food Network'sEveryday Italian,Giada's Weekend Getaways,Giada in Paradise, andGiada at Home, as well as the author of six cookbooks. She lives with her husband, Todd, and daughter, Jade, in a cozy house by the beach in Los Angeles. Giada loves the colors "pesto-green" and "eggplant-purple," and Nutella pancakes are her favorite treat to share with Jade.Heads up!The Bertolizzi family looked up from their picnic just in time to see a football sailing toward them.I got it! Alfie shouted, catching the ball right before it landed in the penne-pasta salad. Maybe I should play football instead of soccer, he said, grinning.A teenage boy from across the park waved his hand for the ball. Sorry! he called. Alfie gave the football his best pass back. It wobbled through the air and landed short.I think you should stick with soccer. Alfies big sister, Emilia, laughed.Alfie gave Emilias shoulder a playful nudge. The familyMom, Dad, Alfie, Emilia, and their great-aunt Donatellahad just finished their picnic lunch. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon in the park, and the sun was shining bright.What a great afternoon, Dad said to Mom.And dont forget the party we have to look forward to tonight, Mom reminded him.Alfie and Emilias parents were going out to celebrate a friends birthday. Alfie and Emilia would stay home with Zia, which was always fun. They never knew what kind of adventure Zia might cook up for them. So far, Zias magical recipes had transported them to Naples, Paris, and Hong Kong!Alfie and Emilia collapsed onto the blanket after their latest round of Frisbee. Mom leaned back on her hands and said, Che bello. We should do this more often.Dad put down his paper. What we need to do is plan that family viaggio: the vacation we keep talking about.Thats a wonderful idea, Zia Donatella said, adjusting her round black sunglasses. Mom and Dad were always busy with work and didnt take enough time to relax. The family hadnt been on a vacation together in years.Yes! Mom said. Where should we go?Alfie and Emilia exchanged a glance. Little did their parents know, theyd been to a few cities recently, but they were always up for discovering somewhere new.We could go to Japan, Alfie said.Yeah, Japan, Emilia quickly agreed. Or maybe Australia.Sweden!France! Emilia added.But weve already been to P Alfie started to say. Zia cleared her throat and touched the brightly colored stone necklace she always wore.How about Mongolia? Alfie quickly changed directions.Mom laughed. Sounds exciting, but just what kind of family vacation do you think were taking?An adventurous one! Alfie said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.Someplace like Arizona sounds adventurous to me, Dad said.Arizona?! Alfie responded.Yeah, Arizona. You know, desert landscapes, Lake Havasu, a little something called the Grand Canyon! Dad replied.I guess. Alfie shrugged.Or we could go mountain biking in the Rocky Mountains, Dad said.Thats a good idea, Mom said. You take your bike up on the ski lift and then ride down the mountain. Doesnt that sound fun?Alfie had to agree that sounded pretty cool. But still . . . there were so many places in the world to see. He was hoping his parents would take them somewhere outside the United States.How about, Alfie began, instead of mountain biking in the Rockies, we do it in the Alps?Yeah, Emilia said. The Swiss Alps!Were happy youre both so interested in world travel, said Mom. But for now, well stay a bit closer to home. Like Washington, DC. Theres so much great history there.Emilia perked up. She loved history as much as Alfie loved maps.Hey, Emilia. You know what place has tons of history? Alfie asked. Greece! We could go see the Acropolis of Athens. Right? he said to his parents.Zia, Mom said, shaking her head. What are we going to do with these two?Zia smiled. I think there are so many wonderful places in America to see that itd be hard to see them all in one lifetime. But we can start trying.Brava! Dad said. Zias got the right attitude.Mom began packing the leftover pasta salad, grilled vegetables, and flatbread into their picnic basket. Well, lets keep thinking about where we might want to go. But for now, your dad and I need to get home so we can get ready for our evening out. What have you got planned for tonight, Zia? she asked.Alfie and Emilia helped Zia fold up the picnic blanket. Oh, Im sure well find something fun to do, Zia said. Maybe something in the kitchen? She sneaked a quick wink at Alfie and Emilia.Yes! Alfie and Emilia said at once. There werent many things they loved more than being in the kitchen with ZiaDonatella. Hearing her tell stories about her travels was better than any movie or video game. Because when Zia cooked, she always took them someplace special.Mom was all dressed up when she walked into the living room. She fastened a bracelet around her wrist.Mom, you look nice, Emilia said, looking up from where she sat on the floor with Alfie and Zia. They were huddled around the coffee table, working on a puzzle.Grazie, amore. Thank you, love, Mom said. So, Zia, did you say youre going to cook dinner or youre going out?Zia Donatella frowned at Mom.Cucina, Mom said. Youll cook. Of course.I have a plan for tonight that I think the kids are going to love, Zia said. Something interessante, a little interesting, to help them see how wonderful it is right here in their own backyard. Ha! Found one, she said, locking a puzzle piece into place.Alfie propped his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand. He and Emilia never knew when one of Zias magical recipes might send them to a new place. They were always ready to meet new friends and taste amazing new foods. But it sounded like tonight wouldnt be one of those nights.Dad came into the living room wrestling with his tie. Whatever you decide to do, have fun tonight, he said.And you kids try to behave yourselves, Mom added as she fixed Dads tie for him.Well find some kind of trouble to get into, dont worry. Zia smiled.Mom and Dad kissed Alfie and Emilia on their heads and left for the party.Now then, Zia said, getting up from the floor. Time to start dinner.Already? Alfie looked at the clock. Its kind of early.Some dishes take time, Zia said. Like the one I want us to make tonight.Emilia and Alfie followed Zia into the kitchen. What can we do to help? Emilia asked.We can start with the holy trinity, Zia said.Whats that?For this dish, its three things: onion, celery, and bell pepper. They all need to be diced.Im on it. Emilia slid over to the fridge in her polka-dot socks. She carried the ingredients back to the cutting board, where Zia watched her chop up the vegetables.Careful now, Zia said. Take your time, and keep those fingers out of the way.I will, Emilia said, concentrating.While shes doing that, we can start on a key part of the dish, Zia told Alfie. The roux.Im ready, Alfie said. He was happy to handle the important stuff and leave the dicing to Emilia.To make the roux we need equal parts butter and flour, Zia said, pulling out a heavy stockpot and a stick of butter. Alfredo, will you get the flour from the pantry?Sure, Alfie said.Whats roo, anyway? Emilia asked, keeping her eyes on the cutting board.Roux, spelled r-o-u-x, is a special base sauce, Zia said.Sounds French, Emilia said, stopping to look at Alfie. He knew what that look meant. Maybe they were going back to Paris, or to somewhere else in France?Zia nodded. Very good.What else? Alfie asked, setting the flour on the counter.; Title: New Orleans! #4 (Recipe for Adventure) | [
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19,004 | 2 | John Bemelmans Marciano carries on the legacy begun by his grandfather, Ludwig Bemelmans, author and illustrator of the Madeline books, with stunning watercolor artwork and playful, energetic storytelling. John Bemelmans Marciano is the author and illustrator of several other books including Delilah and Bemelmans: The Life and Art of Madelines Creator. He lives in Brooklyn, New York.; Title: Madeline's Tea Party (HC) | [
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19,005 | 0 | Ann is a writer of both adult and children's books, including The Little Piano Girl: The Story of Mary Lou Williams, Jazz Legend.; Title: Ice Cream Soup (Penguin Young Readers, Level 1) | [
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19,006 | 13 | J. Press is an art educator who spends her time writing, teaching, and doodling.; Title: Abra-Ca-Doodle! #4 (The Doodles of Sam Dibble) | [
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19,007 | 0 | Sir Steve Stevenson is the pseudonym used by Mario Pasqualotto, an Italian writer who spent many years writing for Italian gaming magazines. Currently, he is focused on writing novels for young readers.SECOND MISSIONAgentsAgathaTwelve years old, an aspiring mystery writer; has a formidable memoryDashAgatha’s cousin and student at the private school Eye International Detective AcademyChandlerButler and former boxer with impeccable British styleWatsonObnoxious Siberian cat with the nose of a bloodhoundUncle RudyardAn adventurous wildlife photographer and animal wranglerDESTINATIONIndiaNew DelhiThe Bay of BengalOBJECTIVETo find a priceless jewel, the legendary Pearl of Bengal, stolen from the temple of the goddess Kali in the Ganges River Delta.Table of ContentsIt was a Saturday afternoon in mid-October. Dashiell Mistery was elbowing his way through a sea of umbrellas that had popped up like mushrooms when a sudden downpour hit. Within minutes, all of London was drenched. The bustling city streets were as muddy and gray as a scene out of Dickens.Fourteen years old and as thin as a rake, Dash was a typical teenage boy, except for his secret obsession. He was studying to be a detective, though he told everybody he met that he was pursuing an online degree in marketing.Only a few family members knew the truth. Among them was his extraordinary younger cousin, Agatha Mistery.“Watch where you’re going!” scolded a woman standing in front of a wig shop. In his rush, Dash had bumped into her, knocking her leather purse into a puddle. He scooped it up, shook it dry, and shoved it back into her hands.“Here you go. Good as new!” he gasped, speeding away as she stood there sputtering. His best friends were waiting for him at the Hastings Street Bowling Alley, and if the church-tower clock he’d just passed was correct, he was already twenty minutes late.As usual, Dash had taken his sweet time waking up. He’d slapped down his snooze-alarm several times, grabbed a slice of cold pizza while playing a rap mix he’d burned, and zoomed out of his penthouse apartment in Baker Palace without even checking the weather online.Big mistake. Everybody in London knew the city had only two kinds of weather: sun at intervals and rain at intervals.The storm had caught Dash off guard. At first, he’d stood under an awning, hoping it was just a cloudburst. But the rain didn’t let up—in fact, the longer he waited, the worse it got. He couldn’t afford to lose any more time. He started to run, stopping only when he got stuck at a crosswalk. Now he was soaked from head to toe.At Richmond Avenue, three blocks away, he hit another red light.Panting and shivering, Dash huddled against a wrought-iron fence. What if his friends had given up on him and started their weekly challenge match? But they wouldn’t do that without calling him first, would they?A terrible thought slammed into his head. “Oh no!” he groaned, digging frantically through his pockets. Except for a few stray coins, they were empty.He fingered the case where he kept his most precious gadget.It was light. Too light.Holding his breath, he reached in. There was nothing inside.“Where did I put it? Where?” he cried out in panic.Eye International, the famous detective school he attended, had one very strict rule: Never go anywhere without the tools of the trade.This didn’t mean the traditional investigator’s kit (e.g., magnifying glass, bugging devices, spy cameras, and walkie-talkies). All of these functions and more were performed by a patented high-tech device called the EyeNet. The worst thing a student could do was to lose it.If he couldn’t find his EyeNet, Dash was in a sea of trouble. He kept patting his clothes in the pouring rain, waving his arms like an octopus. Meanwhile, the light had turned green, and a new wave of bobbing umbrellas came at him.Frozen in place, Dash pressed his palm on his forehead and tried to mentally reconstruct the events of the night before. He’d gone to Marshall’s apartment, played video games for a couple hours, and gotten back home around midnight. Half asleep, he’d kicked back on the couch to watch some shows he’d recorded. This morning he’d woken up fully dressed, with the TV still on. Had he put his EyeNet into its charger right next to the couch, like he did every night? He didn’t remember doing it. Which could only mean…“Marshall!” he shouted so loudly that passersby eyed him cautiously from underneath their umbrellas. “I left it at his apartment!”Dash charged across Richmond Avenue without realizing the light had turned red. Horns honked and brakes squealed as taxicabs swerved to avoid a collision. A policeman blew on his whistle, but Dash didn’t bother to turn. Nothing mattered as much as getting his EyeNet back as soon as possible.Five minutes later, he skidded into the Hastings Street Bowling Alley. Panting, he swiveled his head, looking for Marshall. Every lane was in use, and the sounds of heavy balls striking pins echoed through the cavernous room.Dash vaulted over the seats where his friends were sitting without even saying hello. He leaped into the lane, grabbing Marshall’s shoulder just as he let go of the ball. It swung wide and rolled into the gutter.A big zero flashed on the scoreboard.“Dash!” shouted Marshall. “That was a strike waiting to happen. You totally killed it!”“Have you seen my…um…err…cell phone?”“You left it at my place!”“Thank God,” the young detective said with a gulp. “Can I get it right now?”“Look at you, Dash! You are beyond disgusting!” sniffed Alison, tossing her curls. She was wearing a bright pink designer sweater.Marshall and the others snickered.Dash was sure he did look disgusting. He could feel wet hair glued to his cheeks, his clothes dripped like a broken faucet, and he’d left muddy footprints streaked over the polished wood floor.“Calm down, I brought it,” said Marshall, rummaging through his backpack. “That thing is huge. Must be way overdue for an upgrade.”; Title: The Pearl of Bengal #2 (Agatha: Girl of Mystery) | [
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19,008 | 23 | Patricia Brennan is an educator and children's book author. She has written several titles for children, including many books in the leveled reader program, Penguin Young Readers.; Title: Who Is Bill Gates? (Who Was?) | [
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19,009 | 2 | Ann Hood is the author of the middle grade novel How I Save My Father's Life (and Ruined Everything Else), and has written several adult novels, including An Orinthologist's Guide to Life, The Knitting Circle, Comfort, and The Red Thread. Her work has appeared in the The Paris Review, O, and elsewhere.; Title: Alexander Graham Bell #7: Master of Sound (The Treasure Chest) | [
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19,010 | 0 | Alexa Andrews is the author of assorted Penguin Young Readers, including Cat Days. She lives in Brooklyn, New York.; Title: On a Farm (Penguin Young Readers, Level 1) | [
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19,011 | 13 | True Kelley lives in Warner, New Hampshire.; Title: Quin fue Pablo Picasso? (Who Was...?) (Spanish Edition) | [
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19,012 | 0 | Sir Steve Stevenson is the pseudonym used by Mario Pasqualotto, an Italian writer who spent many years writing for Italian gaming magazines. Currently, he is focused on writing novels for young readers.; Title: The Eiffel Tower Incident #5 (Agatha: Girl of Mystery) | [
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19,013 | 0 | Nancy Krulik has written over 100 children's books, including two New York Times bestsellers and the popular George Brown, Class Clown series.; Title: Catch That Wave #2 (Magic Bone) | [
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19,014 | 0 | Wiley Blevins lives in New York, New York. Ben Clanton lives in Seattle, Washington.; Title: Max Has a Fish (Penguin Young Readers, Level 1) | [
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19,015 | 2 | Sue Bentley lives in Northampton, England. Angela Swan lives in northeast England.; Title: A New Friend #1 (Magic Ponies) | [
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19,016 | 13 | Josh Selig is the Founder and President of Little Airplane Productions. He is the Creator and Executive of many preschool series including Wonder Pets! on Nick Jr. (winner of the 2009 Japan Prize for Best Television Series), 3rd & Bird and Small Potatoes on CBeebies and Disney Junior. Josh has received 10 Emmy Awards for his work as a writer on Sesame Street and has won a Humanitas Award for his work as Head Writer on Nick Jr.'s Little Bill. He was also the Resident Producer in Jerusalem for the historic Israeli-Palestinian production of Sesame Street.; Title: Be What You Want to Be Sing-Along Storybook (Small Potatoes) | [
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19,017 | 2 | Tomie dePaola(www.tomie.com) is the acclaimed author and/or illustrator of more than 250 books for children. His books range from autobiographical stories to retellings of folktales and legends to original tales, such as the Strega Nona books. He lives in New London, New Hampshire.; Title: My First Angels | [
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19,018 | 2 | Bonnie Bader has written several Penguin Young Readers. She lives in Brooklyn, New York.; Title: Play with Blue (Penguin Young Readers, Level 1) | [
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19,019 | 0 | Lucy Coats studied English and Ancient History at Edinburgh University, then worked in children's publishing and now writes full-time. She is a gifted children's poet and has also written several picture book texts. She is widely respected for her lively retellings of myths. Her 12-book series, Greek Beasts and Heroes, was published by Orion in the U.K. Beasts of Olympus will be her first U.S. publication. Lucy's website is at www.lucycoats.com. You can also follow her on Twitter @lucycoats.Chapter 1: Official Stable Boy to the GodsDemon, son of the god Pan, and brand-new Official Stable Boy to the gods, had a bellyache.It was a bellyache of monumental proportions. Even Atlas, the giant Titan, had never had a bellyache as big as this one, Demon decided.He lay under his blanket in the loft above the Stables and wished he hadn’t eaten those final ten honey cakes that the goddess Hestia had offered him as “a going-home snack.” He was still so full after the gods’ celebration feast that he hadn’t slept a wink all night. The prospect of his usual early-morning task of shoveling barrowsful of poo down to the hundred-armed monsters in Tartarus was making him feel greener than moldy spinach. He groaned and turned over on his straw mattress, closing his eyes and wishing that Eos, the dawn goddess, would hold off on opening up the day.“Hey! Demon! I’m hungry! Where’s my breakfast?” came a loud shout from below. There was a scrape and clatter of claws on the ladder as the griffin popped its head through the trapdoor. It leaned over and poked its sharp beak into Demon’s stomach.“Go ’way, griffin,” Demon moaned. “I’m ill. Very ill. In fact, I may die any minute.”“Huh!” said the griffin. “Well, I wouldn’t lie around being ill and dying for too long. I hear from the nymphs that you’re going to have an important visitor this morning. One who won’t be too impressed with a lazy stable boy who HASN’T FED HIS CHARGES!” As the griffin yelled the last four words, he snatched the blanket away and nipped at Demon’s bare toes till they bled.“Ouch! All RIGHT! I’m coming.” Demon leaped out of bed and threw on his old tunic. The two healing snakes who lived in his magical necklace, Offy and Yukus, set to work mending his poor bloody toes. It was an easy job compared to the dreadful wounds Demon had suffered since he started in the Stables of the Gods. The magic snakes were soon done and slithered back up around his neck. “What important visitor?” he asked the griffin as he tied his silver rope belt around his waist.“Aha!” said the griffin mysteriously, tapping one grubby claw against its beak.“You are a very annoying creature sometimes,” said Demon. “Anyway, I don’t have time to worry about some stupid visitor. As you so kindly reminded me just now, I’ve got work to do.” But as he descended the ladder, a small nervous lump lodged itself in his chest somewhere just above his solar plexus. What if the important visitor was Hera? What if she had another impossible task for him to do? What if she threatened to turn him into a heap of charcoal? He could hear the griffin giggling to itself above him. That was never good news.Demon headed off to clear out the muck created by the Cattle of the Sun, make sure the nymphs had milked the unicorns, and feed leftover ambrosia cake to all the immortal creatures. By the time he finished, he had a pounding headache, and his stomach felt like a herd of man-eating horses was galloping around in it. Luckily his new friend, the nine-headed Hydra, had helped him out by carrying buckets, rakes, mops, and brooms for him in all its mouths. It also pushed the poo wheelbarrow with its tail.“Thanks, Doris,” he said as he tipped the last of the stinky mess down the poo chute. The monsters who lived below roared appreciatively. The Hydra grinned at him, its hundreds of sharp teeth glinting in the pale sunlight reflecting off Eos’s pink fluffy bedsheets, hanging out to dry in the dawn sky. It loved having a proper name, and it was so grateful to Demon for saving its life that it would do almost anything for him.“Doris likes helping,” it said. Then it fluttered its eighteen pairs of long green eyelashes at Demon. “Snackies for Doris now?” it asked hopefully.Demon tossed it a few bits of leftover ambrosia cake, and Doris retired to a corner of the Stables to chew on them. There was soon a spreading pool of drool beneath it—Hydras were messy eaters at the best of times. Demon headed over to the hospital shed to see if Hephaestus’s magical medicine box would have something that would make his stomach feel better. It was meant for the beasts, really, but at this point he didn’t care. He just wanted to feel normal again. As he opened the door to the shed, the comforting smell of aloe- and lavender-soaked bandages wafted out to greet him. The big square silver box lay on the table in front of him. As he lifted the lid, the familiar soft blue symbols sprang to life.“State the nature of your beast’s emergency medical problem,” the box said in its metallic voice.“It’s not a beast. It’s me,” said Demon, rubbing his poor stomach and feeling very sorry for himself all over again. “I’ve got a horrible bellyache and a thumping headache, and I think I might die if you don’t do something about it.” He didn’t say that the bellyache was from eating too many of Hestia’s honey cakes.A long silver tentacle with a flat disk on the end of it shot out of the box and snaked down the front of Demon’s tunic. It was cold and made him jump. After a few seconds it retreated back the way it had come. “Error code 435. Human ailment. Does not compute with data program. Unable to assist. Thank you for your inquiry.” The box closed abruptly, with a final, resounding click.“Stupid box,” said Demon, kicking the table so it rattled. The box opened a tiny bit, and a pointed silver tongue stuck out in Demon’s direction.It made a very rude farting noise, then the box snapped shut again.As Demon stormed out of the hospital shed, slamming the door behind him, he saw a swirling cloud of utter darkness burst out of a large crack in the ground. He was sure the crack hadn’t been there five minutes before. The cloud raced toward the Stables at an alarming speed with a sound like a thousand hammers pounding. Demon’s heart began to thump. This must be the griffin’s Important Visitor arriving.; Title: Hound of Hades #2 (Beasts of Olympus) | [
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19,020 | 2 | Nancy Krulik lives in New York, New York. John & Wendy live in Brooklyn, New York.; Title: A Collection of Katie: Books 1-4 (Katie Kazoo, Switcheroo) | [
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19,021 | 0 | Nancy Krulik has written more than 100 books for children and young adults, including two New York Times Best Sellers. You can follow Nancy on Twitter at @NancyKrulik.; Title: Nice Snowing You! #4 (Magic Bone) | [
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19,022 | 13 | www.strawberryshortcake.com; Title: A Berry Bitty Ballet (Strawberry Shortcake) | [
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19,023 | 6 | Josh Selig is the Founder and President of Little Airplane Productions. He is the Creator and Executive of many preschool series including "The Wonder Pets!" on Nick Jr. (winner of the 2009 Japan Prize for Best Television Series), "3rd & Bird" and "Small Potatoes" on CBeebies and Disney Junior. Josh has received 10 Emmy Awards for his work as a writer on Sesame Street and has won a Humanitas Award for his work as Head Writer on Nick Jr.'s Little Bill. He was also the Resident Producer in Jerusalem for the historic Israeli-Palestinian production of "Sesame Street."; Title: Stuck on Potatoes! (Small Potatoes) | [
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19,024 | 0 | Lucy Coats (www.lucycoats.com) studied English and Ancient History at Edinburgh University, then worked in childrens publishing and now writes full-time. She is a gifted childrens poet and has also written several picture book texts. She is widely respected for her lively retellings of myths. Her twelve-book series, Greek Beasts and Heroes, was published by Orion in the U.K. Beasts of Olympus is her first U.S. publication. You can also follow her on Twitter @lucycoats.Brett Bean has created art for TV, film, games, and books for clients such as Nickelodeon, Disney TV, Leapfrog, and Nerd Corps. He is working on his fifth art book, a graphic novel short story collection.Demon first found out about his latest Important Visitor when he heard Melanie the naiad shriek. He dropped his shovel in the poo barrow and rushed over to the spring outside the Stables of the Gods to see what was happening. Melanie stood shivering and curtsying at the side of her spring, her long blue hair streaming down her back. In the middle of the water stood a huge bearded figure wearing a crown of jeweled seashells. He held a large golden trident in his left hand.Pah! he spat, wringing out his robes and striding up to Demon. Freshwater. Mimsy-flimsy stuff. Give me a pool of salty sea brine any day.Demons heart sank into his sandals as he bowed low. An early morning visit from a god was never good newsand this was Zeuss own brother. What could Poseidon, god of the sea, want with him at this hour?How can I help you, Your Watery Wondrousness? he asked.Ha! said Poseidon, bringing his hand down on Demons shoulder so hard, the young boy fell on his backside in the dust. Watery Wondrousness. I like it. Up you get, now, stable boy. I need to talk to you. He reached down and offered a hand wearing a glove that seemed to be made of sapphires the size and shape of barnacles. Demon took the hand cautiously. It felt cold and rather wet, and the jewel barnacles scraped his fingers, but he didnt say anything. It was best not to with gods. They took offense very easily, hed found, and that could lead to Bad Things.Poseidon was looking around him. The nine green heads of Doris the Hydra were peering shyly around the Stables door, long eyelashes fluttering. Demon could see the griffin lurking behind them.That the beastie you cured for Hera? the god asked. Looks pretty healthy to me.Yes, Your Serene Saltiness, said Demon. It helps me out around the Stables now. Doris fluttered its eighteen sets of eyelashes and rattled its buckets.Snackies? Doris asked hopefully. Demon ignored it. Hed only just cured its bellyache from eating too much ambrosia cake, and he wasnt risking a repeat.Show me around, stable boy, said Poseidon.Demon took the god up and down the stalls. He warned him politely not to poke at the giant scorpion with the pointy end of his trident, and explained about the Cattle of the Sun not being able to eat ambrosia cake because of the terrible gas it gave them. By the time theyd almost finished, Demon was feeling a bit more optimistic. Poseidon seemed much friendlier than the scary Hera, and a lot nicer than sinister Hades. Demon shivered, remembering his recent trip down to the Underworld to save the life of Hadess great beastdog, Cerberus. Hed only just escaped being eaten by the King of Deaths skeleton dragons, thanks to the help of Hermes, the gods chief messenger. Stopping at the last pen, he gestured at the creatures within.These are the Ethiopian winged horses, Your Royal Godnificence, he said, patting the shiny golden horns in the middle of the boss horses forehead. I fly out on Keith here most daysthey need a lot of exercise to keep their wings strong. Keith neighed enthusiastically.What do you know of Hippocamps, stable boy? Poseidon asked abruptly. Demon racked his brain. Hippocamps? What in the name of Zeuss toenails were they?I-I-Ive never met one, Your Outstanding Oceanosity, he said.No. I suppose you wouldnt have. I dont bring them up here muchno proper seawater, you see. He clapped his hands together. Youll just have to come back to the Stables of the Ocean with me and examine them. Their scales are all falling off, and none of my sea people seem to know why. Demon gulped and turned pale. He didnt know what to do. How could he leave his own Stables again? If there was no one to clean them out and look after the beasts, the whole of Olympus would smell of poo. Then the goddesses would get furious and turn him into one big Demon-size pile of ash. Poseidon frowned, his shaggy eyebrows throwing off silvery-green sparks.You dont seem very happy, stable boy, he growled. The atmosphere in the Stables had suddenly become heavy and close, as if a big thunderstorm was coming. The winged horses whinnied in alarm as gusts of wind began to whip the dust up into mini-tornadoes. Demon hurriedly forced a smile onto his face. He should have known that Poseidons nice mood was too good to last.N-no, n-no, Your Awesome Aquaticness. I-I-I was just w-wondering what medicines to bring. I-Ill go and fetch my box immediately.Very well, said Poseidon, his frown disappearing as suddenly as it had come. Ill go and visit with my brother Zeus. I have a small matter I need to discuss with him. Be ready when I return. With a swish and a swirl of his still-dripping cloak, he left the Stables, depositing a small pile of flapping fish and a large, angry lobster at Demons feet. The boy leaped out of reach of the lobsters clacking claws and ran for the hospital shed. The griffin, after it had gobbled up the fish, loped after him on its lions feet.Dearie me, Pans scrawny kid, it sniggered, when it had caught up with him. Looks like youre in trouble, whichever way you jump.I know, Demon panted as he ran. What am I going to DO, Griffin? I cant just leave all of you on your own again. Look what happened with Doris last time. And what do I do if he keeps me down there for ages? Aphrodite will probably turn me into a pile of burnt rose petals if her nighties start to smell of poo again.We-e-e-ll, said the griffin slowly, I suppose the Nemean Lion and I could make sure Doris cleans out the stables and doesnt eat all the ambrosia cake again. Lions been a bit depressed since you gave it that fluffy green skin. Itll cheer it up no end to have a job to do.Would you really? asked Demon as he skidded to a halt in front of the hospital shed. I dont think itll take very long. Ill be back in a day or so, I swear. The griffin looked at him slyly out of the corner of its orange eye.If youll promise to give me meat at least once a week when you get back, it said. Otherwise the deals off. Demon groaned. Meat was really hard to come by on Olympus, unless it was a feast day. But he didnt really have a choice. Hed think about how to get around the griffins request when he got back. If Poseidon hadnt turned him into a Demon-shaped coral reef by then, of course.All RIGHT! he said crossly. But you have to do the job properly. I dont want to find a piece of hay out of place or a single speck of dust in any of the stalls. And I especially dont want to find Doris sick again. Understand?Trust me, Pans scrawny kid, it said, giving Demon a sideways orange wink that made it look most UNtrustworthy. Then it flapped its eagle wings once and soared up to sit on the rooftop. Better hurry up, it called down. I see old Fishface coming out of Zeuss palace. He doesnt look in a very good mood.Demons magical medicine box didnt turn out to be in a very good mood, either, when he told it they were going to Poseidons realm. He could hear it grumbling behind him as it waddled its way toward the Stables on its short, stumpy legs.Shut up, box, Demon hissed as he saw Poseidon in the distance. Youll get us into trouble.Implementing aquasynchrous marine interface, it muttered. As for you, I hope you get Error Code 7533 and turn into a sea cucumber. It withdrew its legs and thumped down beside him, ejecting a kind of see-through skin from its sides, which spread over its whole surface, sealing it completely. Demon stared at it. How was he supposed to open it now? But he had no time to think about that, because Poseidon was stomping toward him, muttering to himself. The air became thick and still again, and there was a strong smell of ozone.; Title: Steeds of the Gods #3 (Beasts of Olympus) | [
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19,025 | 18 | Kathleen Krull is well known for her innovative, award-winning nonfiction for young readers, which includes the successful Lives of... series.; Title: What Was the March on Washington? | [
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19,026 | 18 | Bonnie Bader has written several biographies for young readers. She lives in Brooklyn, New York.Who Was Christopher Columbus?Who Was Christopher Columbus?Who WasChristopher Columbus?A tall man paced the deck of his ship. He and his men had been at sea for seventy days, since August 3, 1492. They had sailed over 2,650 miles from Spain. Now, land had been spotted. Had Christopher Columbuss dream to reach the Indies finally come true?For years he had begged the rulers of Portugal and Spain to give him money for this journey. He wanted to find a route from Europe to the Indies by sailing west. The Indies included China, Japan, and India. No one had done this before.As the sun rose on October 12, 1492, Columbus and his crew made their way to shore.Falling to his knees, he kissed the ground and cried. Oh, what riches awaited him! He would return to Spain a hero.Columbus didnt know that this was not the Indies. So where was he? Columbus and his crew were on land that no one in Europe knew about. Christopher Columbus had discovered a new world.Chapter 1An Explorer Is BornIn 1451, a boy named Cristoforo Colombo was born in the city of Genoa, Italy. In the English-speaking world, he is known as Christopher Columbus.Christophers father was a wool weaver. His mother was the daughter of a weaver, and she helped with the work. It was expected that one day Christopher would take over the family business.But young Christopher did not want to follow in his fathers footsteps. He loved the sea, the smell of the salty air. He loved the way the wind blew through his hair. Genoa was a busy port on the Mediterranean Sea. Christopher and his younger brother, Bartolomeo, loved going down to the docks. They watched ships come into port, bringing in goods such as silk, tea, and spices from the East. And they watched the ships leave, loaded with wool, copper, tin, and weapons. Christopher hoped to work on one of those ships one day.; Title: Who Was Christopher Columbus? | [
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19,027 | 2 | Adam-Troy Castro has said in interviews that he likes to jump genres and styles and has therefore refused to ever stay in place long enough to permit the unwanted existence of a creature that could be called a "typical" Adam-Troy Castro story. As a result, his short works range from the wild farce of his Vossoff and Nimmitz tales to the grim Nebula nominee "Of a Sweet Slow Dance in the Wake of Temporary Dogs." His twenty prior books include a nonfiction analysis of the Harry Potter phenomenon, four Spider-Man adventures, and three novels about his interstellar murder investigator, Andrea Cort (including a winner of the Philip K. Dick Award, Emissaries from the Dead). Adam's other award nominations include eight Nebulas, two Hugos, and three Stokers. Adam lives in Florida with his wife, Judi, and three insane cats named Uma Furman, Meow Farrow, and Harley Quinn.Chapter One: The Return of the People Taker   Once upon a time, there was a very awful man by the name of Ernest J. Throckworthy.   There is no particular reason to remember that name, silly as it was, because he stopped using it very early on in life and after a while might not have been able to recall it himself. It’s much more helpful to refer to him by the name he used for himself, whenever he was out and about doing terrible things: the People Taker.   It was under this title that he spent many years doing monstrous things in the world of light, and then later on many years serving an even more horrific master, Lord Obsidian.   It was also under this ominous job title that he twice fought the very brave young boy named Gustav Gloom, and Gustav’s best friend, the not quite as strange but just as brave young girl named Fernie What.   Neither of these confrontations worked out at all well for the People Taker, which is why he now found himself imprisoned in one of the most aggravating of the Gloom mansion’s many chambers.   The Room of Being Delayed Indefinitely resembled every waiting room anybody had ever had to spend an unwanted hour in, complete with uncomfortable chairs, magazines nobody would ever want to read, and a wall clock that ticked constantly but somehow never progressed past 3:24. Neither of the two doors, facing each other on opposite walls, ever opened. Maybe they couldn’t open.   The People Taker spent what felt like days or even weeks pacing back and forth in that room, screaming at the walls and trying to find things he could break in fits of rage, which was impossible, as the tables and chairs were bolted to the floor, and even the magazines were petrified objects that could not be detached from the surfaces they lay on. It was torment. He who had made a career of taking people now couldn’t even take objects.   He might have gone mad with frustration, but then, he’d always been mad, so there wouldn’t have been much of a difference.   Then, after what seemed like forever, a familiar voice came through the loudspeaker on the wall. “Hello? Can you hear me?”   The People Taker recognized the soft and elegant voice as belonging to a beautiful if evil shadow named Ursula, who last he heard had been eaten by some kind of dinosaur.   He almost hurled himself at the speaker in desperation. “Yesssss, I can hhhhhear you! Are you imprisssssoned here, too?”   Her laugh was soft, musical, lovely, and completely vicious. “That’s cute. No, Mr. People Taker, you’re in a place built for prisoners of flesh and blood. That would prove no prison for one made of what I’m made of. I was more appropriately returned to my cell in the Hall of Shadow Criminals.”   The People Taker felt an emotion that was normally utterly alien to him: embarrassment at having said something stupid. “Oh.”   “The good news, darling, is that I am no longer a prisoner there, either. Our dark master, Lord Obsidian, was generous enough to send another army of his faceless shadows to smash the cells and free any who would agree to serve him. Of the entire population of that terrible prison, only one, Hieronymus Spector, foolishly refused our master’s offer; the rest are free and either on their way to the Dark Country to join Obsidian’s army, or here with me, to speak with you.”   The People Taker jumped up and down in excitement. “Then fffffree me, curse you! I nnnnneed to get my hands on the What brats!”   The People Taker was not the most gracious of losers.   Ursula cooed, “I’m afraid I have to tell you that Gustav and the What girls and their father and their cat are all already down in the Dark Country and beyond our reach. Lord Obsidian sends word that he has plans for all of them that no longer require us.”   The People Taker cursed at this news. He had made such wonderfully nasty plans for Gustav and Fernie and Pearlie and their father and that wretched cat.   “However,” Ursula continued, “our liege still needs a flesh-and-blood ally to capture the fourth and final member of the What family. He is therefore still willing to employ you, if you are willing to risk facing the awful consequences of failing him a third time.”   “Yesssss! Anything! Just fffffreeeee me!”   “Very well,” said Ursula.   The door to his right clicked open.  **********   The grand parlor of the Gloom mansion had changed since the last time the People Taker had seen it. He knew that a number of the staircases linking some of the higher floors had collapsed during his last attempt to capture the What family, burying the floor and much of the fine furniture under twisted rubble. The wreckage had been cleared, the dust had been swept, and much of the damage had either been repaired or allowed to heal in the bizarre manner that this house always seemed to regenerate from its regular catastrophes, but the throngs of shadowy residents who were always visible mingling in the parlor, whatever else might have been happening around them, were now absent, having fled to their hiding places rather than spend any time around the sinister army gathered for Lord Obsidian’s glory.   There must have been many hundreds of shadows, from the faceless shadow warriors who had just come up from the Dark Country, to the convicts they had freed from the Hall of Shadow Criminals. Most of the shadow warriors were faceless things without obvious personalities. The shadow criminals were all versions of recognizable human types, from the beautiful Ursula to the rather stupid Otis to snarling, leering, and scowling villains of every other type, some of whom had already made it clear to the People Taker that they didn’t appreciate having to work with a “warm” like him.   The leader of the gang known as the Four Terrors, Nebuchadnezzar, was not present; according to Ursula, he had last been seen heading for the Dark Country and was probably still trying to catch Gustav and the What girls himself. That was okay, she said. Among the shadows in the room now were some of the greatest nightmares that the human or shadow world had ever known, and they would be more than up to any challenge.   Ursula addressed the crowd: “The mother of Fernie and Pearlie What, Nora What, is a professional adventurer. She travels all over the world of light confronting challenges for something the humans call television.”   “Never heard of such a thing,” said one of the shadow criminals, a thug with one missing eye and a bulging jaw and forehead. “Hate it just on general principle.”   The gathered shadow criminals nodded and murmured to one another, agreeing that whatever the strange television thing was, it was human and therefore worth hating.   “Many people do, apparently. It’s only important to know that this strange job keeps her away from home for weeks or months at a time. Our spotters in the house’s east tower reported seeing one of the human vehicles dropping her off at her home earlier today. It should not be long before she comes knocking here to try to find her family. When she does, it will be the People Taker’s job to answer the door and lure her inside . . . so that we may swarm and capture her, take her to the Pit, and deliver her into our master’s clutches.”   The gathered shadow criminals nodded and murmured some more, liking any plan that involved throwing a human being into a bottomless pit.   In their midst, the People Taker snarled. He was not happy. He had until recently been one of Lord Obsidian’s most valued servants, trusted with the command of monsters like the Beast, and assassins like the Four Terrors. Now, diminished by his failures, he was seen as no more than a messenger boy, fit only to open doors and play his role. He swore to himself that he would not be defeated this time. He promised that when this Nora What knocked on the door, he would not just play his role perfectly, but would also make her pay in the most terrible fashion for all the humiliations he had suffered at the hands of her simpering daughters.   The knock on the mansion’s massive front doors echoed throughout the grand parlor.   “That will be her,” said Ursula. “Play your role, dear. And this time, try not to mess up.”   The People Taker grimaced again, nodded to indicate his understanding of the one menial role left to him, and headed into the entrance hall. As he went, he tamed his fierce, evil expression, and took on a gentle and unthreatening look to match the role he would wear to disguise his true intentions: that of Brad Gloom, a kind and gentle and neighborly man, who wouldn’t dream of hurting anybody, not even a fly. But inside he thought of his favorite activity in all the world: taking.   He thought, I’m coming to take  you, Nora What.   This time there will be no escape for a member of  your family.   This time, even if  you prove to be as dangerous as  your daughters, even if  you prove able to evade me,   you will also have an army of shadows to contend with. You will not escape. Lord Obsidian will have  you, and I will have the pleasure of knowing I took at least one of  you.   You are doomed.   He used up the last of his snickers and opened the door.  Chapter Two: The Fate Worse Than Death Deluxe  Since first meeting her strange friend Gustav Gloom, Fernie What had spent more time fighting monsters and fleeing dinosaurs and traveling through time and space than the vast majority of other children her age, but she was still only ten years old, and that meant there were still any number of activities on her want list that she had never had a chance to try for herself.   For instance, she’d never ridden a grizzly bear, she’d never driven a submarine, she’d never played tennis on the wings of an airplane in flight, and she’d never eaten chocolate-covered grasshoppers.   Other unusual experiences were not on her want list.   She had never once wanted to be prodded along a narrow catwalk by the evil minions of a world-conquering villain as she was brought back to his castle as a prisoner.   That had never been among her plans.   But that was the situation she found herself in now.   Behind her, her guard said, “Careful, you.”   He said this because the catwalk was only a couple of feet across, only wide enough for Fernie and her fellow captives to traverse it in single file. There were no safety railings to prevent a terrible fall, an omission that must have upset Fernie’s safety-expert father very much when he’d been brought as a prisoner to the same castle some time ago. He was famous for always wanting safety railings on everything.   Fernie needed to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other and keeping her balance, but couldn’t resist asking her guard, “Why would you warn me to be careful? I’m just a prisoner, right?”   “That’s true,” the guard said.   “Then why would you care if I fell over the side and died?”   “I wouldn’t,” the guard said, “but this is my one job, and I like to be good at it. So hurry along.”   “Which do you want me to do? Be careful or hurry along? I can’t do both.”   The guard hesitated. “You’re right.”   “So what do you want me to do?”   “Be careful hurrying along,” the guard suggested, “and don’t give me any more lip about it, or I’ll just pitch you over the edge and take the poor performance review.”   Fernie didn’t want to be pitched over the side and take what would have been a lethal fall into the courtyard a couple of hundred feet below, so she did what the guard ordered and was careful hurrying along.   This was precisely the kind of thing she supposed she had to accept as the first in a long line of prisoners who had just been brought to this castle and were each now being escorted across the narrow catwalk by their own personal guard.   Despite the warning to be careful, she glanced over her shoulder, through the hulking and transparent gray form of her guard, to the form behind him, her twelve-year-old sister, Pearlie. Pearlie was more unsteady on the catwalk than Fernie was and had to extend both her arms for balance.   Behind Pearlie was another shadow guard, grim-faced and big-jawed and glowering so nastily that he might have been trying to set fire to something with the heat of his gaze.   Behind him was the pale, serious form of Fernie’s best friend, Gustav Gloom, looking as always oddly calm and composed despite being surrounded by hostile enemies on all sides. Behind him marched another shadow guard, this one a woman with long stringy hair and eyes that looked more like boreholes some rodent had dug in a piece of wood.   Behind that guard was a burly, bearded innkeeper whom Gustav and the What girls had recently met, a longtime human resident who had been cut off from the world of light for so long that he’d forgotten his name, and for convenience’s sake called himself Not-Roger.   That was about as far back in the line as Fernie could see at the moment, but she knew there’d be other prisoners back there, including a number of shadow allies: the beautiful Anemone, the mysterious hooded Caliban, and Not-Roger’s own shadow (who couldn’t remember Not-Roger’s real name, either).   Farther back, there were even more prisoners, shadow and human, whom Fernie hadn’t met, all of whom were being marched from the slave hold of the same zippalin that had captured Fernie and her friends.   This struck Fernie as a pretty crowded haul of prisoners, as such things went, but she gathered it wasn’t any larger a collection than the guards of Lord Obsidian’s castle were used to, as none of the ones prodding the group along seemed to be particularly impressed.   “Hey,” Fernie’s guard said. “I thought I told you to hurry along.”   “Sorry,” said Fernie. “I’m just checking on my sister and the rest of my friends.”   “You’re the prisoner of Lord Obsidian now. You’re not allowed sisters or friends. If you’re smart, you’ll just do what you’re ordered to do and look out for what’s going to happen to you if you don’t.”   Fernie said, “Okay, but since I’ve already been told that falling into Lord Obsidian’s hands is a Fate Worse Than Death, all by itself, just how much worse could the punishment for not hurrying along be? Is it, like, The Fate Even Worse Than The Fate Worse Than Death? Or The Fate Worse Than Death Deluxe?”   “That does it,” said the guard. “You’re in real trouble now. I’m going to report your attitude to the boss.”   “Gee,” said Fernie. “And here I was, doing so well up until this point.”   The guard prodded her with his spear-point, not enough to draw blood but enough to suggest that he’d only let her get away with as much mockery as he was willing to take.   Fernie shrugged and went back to carefully hurrying along.   All in all, she considered this far from the most fun she’d ever had. The Dark Country was a gray and dreary place to begin with, and the ebony castle of Lord Obsidian was not much improved for being the first halfway-civilized place she’d encountered since her arrival. It was just a collection of shadowy gray towers connected by great stone walls that separated the grounds into what amounted to open pens.   The towers and walls numbered in the dozens, all rising high above a deep churning gray mist that looked pretty much the same on all sides of the separating walls. The only real detail to the landscape was a pair of suspiciously round black mountains dominating the horizon to Fernie’s right, each of them rising so high into the sky that their peaks were lost in the clouds above. Something about those mountains looked familiar, but her mind refused to identify exactly how. She had the idea that it was sparing her the moment of recognition because she had too much else to worry about right now.   Looking straight down at the misty courtyard below her wasn’t much better. From time to time it came into focus as a sea of forlorn shadow-faces moaning about the hopelessness of their lot.   Fernie risked another question. “Who are they?”   “More prisoners,” the guard behind her explained. “Enemies of the great Obsidian. The shadows who tried to resist him are even worse off, being captured by him, than you human types are. He uses them, he does.”   Had Fernie not already possessed good reason to consider Gustav Gloom’s enemy Lord Obsidian a real creep, the sight of all those despairing shadows would have provided her with a fine first clue. It wasn’t the kind of sight nice people preferred to see from their castles. It was the kind of sight awful people used to remind themselves of all the unhappiness they’d caused. Only a real villain wanted to look out his window and see that kind of thing before breakfast.   Up ahead, the catwalk ended at an ominous stone tower studded with balconies from which many armored shadow minions shouted nasty things at the prisoners being brought toward them. Unlike most of the shadows Fernie and Pearlie and Gustav had seen so far—who, like their fellow prisoners Anemone and Caliban and Not-Roger’s shadow, had all tended to look pretty human—these had taken on more monstrous shapes, almost as if it would not have been enough for them to just look like bad people; they had to look like things worse than people, or things that ate people.   “’Ey!” said one whose mouth sported a pair of walrus tusks. “Look over there! I’ll sell me nose if that’s not Gustav Gloom!”   An apelike figure cried, “The master will be ’appy about this, ’e will, ’e will. ’E’s been ranting about Gustav Gloom for a while now!”   “Aye, ’e has such plans for the boy . . . !”   “. . . And who’s that red-haired little girl walking along in front of them? Not the little one with the curls . . . the taller one! That must be the other one the master wants: Fernie What!”   Behind Fernie, Pearlie cried out, “Shows how much you know, you big dummies! I’m not Fernie! I’m her bigger and tougher sister!”   “Oi! You hear that?”   “I did, I did! There’s a tougher sister!”   “Won’t do either one of ’em any good! It won’t, it won’t! They’ll both lose what toughness they have slaving in Lord Obsidian’s mines!”   “It’s just interesting that there’s a tougher sister, that’s all!”   “She don’t look so bloomin’ tough now! None of ’em do! Lookit them, all prisoners being led to a fate worse than death!”   The catwalk ended at a platform with a massive door overseen by an elderly, robed shadow whose eyebrows were so long at the sides that they joined his bushy mustache and beard in drooping all the way to the floor. He peered over his foggy bifocals at the four human beings who were the first of his prisoners, and said, “All right, all right, everybody, pipe down. This lot still has to be processed. Please line them up in front of me, will you? The three children over there, and that big bearded fellow . . . Yes, that’s right. Him. Excellent.”   Now that they were standing side by side, Fernie reached for Gustav’s hand. He took hers and squeezed, a grip that betrayed no particular fear of the horrors they now faced. She glanced over and confirmed that he was holding Pearlie’s hand as well, and that Pearlie was doing the same for the comically huge Not-Roger.   The shadow in the bifocals rolled back one page of the stack of papers on his clipboard and read his next words from something printed there, rushing through the text in a monotone, as if he’d delivered this speech so many times that it had ceased to have any meaning for him. “Be grateful, insignificant worms. Your puny lives are now the property of the all-wise, all-powerful Lord Obsidian, conqueror of the shadow realm and future destroyer of the world of light. Any complaints  you might have about  your treatment after  you pass through this door should be kept to  yourselves, as nobody who will be placed in charge of   you cares. If  you wish to survive, just remember this one thing: that if  you disobey us in any way, it can always get much worse.”   He rolled the top sheet back, adjusted his bifocals, and said, “Right. So let’s get to it. My name is Scrofulous, and it’s my solemn duty to decide just which fate worse than death, out of all the many options provided to us by our lord and master, you will come to suffer from now until the end of time.”   “Sounds like a fun job,” said Fernie.   “Why, yes, it is. Please cooperate, and this can be a brief and convenient experience for all of us.” He flipped the papers again and said, “Right. I’m told that one of you is the boy Gustav Gloom?”   Gustav Gloom released the hands of the What sisters so he could step forward and jab a proud thumb at his chest. “I’m Gustav Gloom.”   “Would you be the Gustav Gloom who’s also the son of Hans and the grandson of Lemuel?”   “That’s me,” Gustav confirmed.   Scrofulous peered through the bifocals that enlarged his eyes and made them look as big as dinner plates. “Do you have any identification attesting to that, young man?”   “Sorry, no. I guess you’ll have to let me go.”   Scrofulous spent the next few seconds blinking, as if this was an option that had never been mentioned to him before and he had to give it careful consideration before rejecting it out of hand. Then he coughed and said, “Ah, I see. A joke. We don’t have those here. Our lord and master has declared them illegal. In any event, I do suppose it’s safe enough to assume that you are who you say you are, since this is Lord Obsidian’s place of power, and nobody with even an ounce of self-preservation would claim to be the son of his greatest enemy, unless he was. Our lord has been quite clear in his daily, crazed, inspirational rants that you were to be delivered to him the instant you were captured. So you, at least, we’ve got sorted out.”   Gustav shook his head and said, “Sorry. But no.”; Title: Gustav Gloom and the Castle of Fear #6 | [
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19,028 | 2 | AJ Stern lives in New York, New York.Doreen Mulryan Marts lives in Lake Hopatcong, New Jersey.; Title: Fashion Frenzy (Frankly, Frannie) | [
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19,029 | 18 | Kathleen Krull is well known for her innovative, award-winning nonfiction for young readers, which includes the successful Lives of... series.; Title: What Was the Boston Tea Party? | [
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19,030 | 0 | Gr 2-4Sparky is a rambunctious pup who breaks things while running around the house, digs holes in the yard, and tries to stay in the good graces of his person, Josh. In one confusing scene, Sparky is transported with a Kaboom! from his backyard to England. Later, readers learn that he wound up in London after chewing on a magic bone. He has a series of madcap adventures that include urinating in front of Buckingham Palace and landing in the midst of a picnic, where he gobbles sausages and overturns plates of food. A dogcatcher takes him to a pound, where he escapes and is transported back to Josh. Detailed illustrations capture the action in this early chapter book. Some readers may enjoy the slapstick plot and the sights of London described from a dog's perspective, but those who liked the realistic conflict infused with magic in Krulik's Katie Kazoo, Switcheroo series (Grosset & Dunlap) will long for a bit more substance in this offering.Laura Scott, Farmington Community Library, MI(c) Copyright 2013. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.The new Magic Bone series features Sparky, a half-grown puppy, as both protagonist and narrator. Through Sparkys dog-centric perceptions of the material world and relationships, the story zips along from expected neighborhood encounters with canine bullies to the fantastical adventures that ensue after a mysterious bone transports Sparky to London and the grounds outside Buckingham Palace. Sparkys navet is just right for the audience, who will feel not only a little more clever than the puppy but also as anxious as he does that things will turn out well. Also well suited to the audience is the back matter that offers more context to some of the London sights Sparky encounters. A good choice for newly independent readers who have a taste for fantasy. Grades 1-3. --Francisca Goldsmith; Title: Be Careful What You Sniff for #1 (Magic Bone) | [
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19,031 | 0 | Nancy Krulik has written over 100 books for children, including two New York Times bestsellers.; Title: Three Burps and You're Out #10 (George Brown, Class Clown) | [
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19,032 | 0 | Ethan Long lives in Orlando, Florida.; Title: Clara and Clem Take a Ride (Penguin Young Readers, Level 1) | [
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19,033 | 0 | Shelley M. Thomas has written many books for young readers, including the successful Good Knight series, Putting the World to Sleep, and The Seven Tales of Trinket.; Title: Happy Birthday, Good Knight (Penguin Young Readers, Level 3) | [
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19,034 | 13 | Jim O'Connor is the author ofWhat Was the Battle of Gettysburg? He has also written several non-fiction books for Random House, including Jackie Robinson and The Story of All-Black Baseball.; Title: Who Is Bob Dylan? (Who Was?) | [
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19,035 | 18 | Joan Holub is the author of other Who Was…? titles, including Who Was Marco Polo? and Who Was Babe Ruth?; Title: What Was the Gold Rush? | [
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19,036 | 0 | Alexa Andrews has written two other books for the Penguin Young Readers program, Cat Days and On A Farm.; Title: At the Beach (Penguin Young Readers, Level 1) | [
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19,037 | 2 | Rachelle Delaney lives in Vancouver, British Columbia. Gerald Guerlais lives in Issy-Les-Moulineaux, France.; Title: The Guardians of Island X #2 (The Ship of Lost Souls) | [
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19,038 | 2 | Eric Hill (www.funwithspot.com) left school when he was 15 and took up cartooning while working as a messenger at an art studio.He createdWhere's Spot?as a bedtime story for his two-year old son. It was published four years later, and the rest is history. Eric Hill passed away in July 2014.; Title: Night-Night, Spot | [
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19,039 | 2 | Grosset & Dunlap creates high-quality books for young readers of any level. Focused on books for ages 012, Grosset offers a wide range of original fiction series, nonfiction titles, leveled readers, and licensed tie-ins to captivate every reader.; Title: Max & Ruby's Trick or Treat (Max and Ruby) | [
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19,040 | 13 | Josh Selig is the Founder and President of Little Airplane Productions. He is the Creator and Executive of many preschool series including "The Wonder Pets!" on Nick Jr. (winner of the 2009 Japan Prize for Best Television Series), "3rd & Bird" and "Small Potatoes" on CBeebies and Disney Junior. Josh has received 10 Emmy Awards for his work as a writer on “Sesame Street” and has won a Humanitas Award for his work as Head Writer on Nick Jr.'s “Little Bill.” He was also the Resident Producer in Jerusalem for the historic Israeli-Palestinian production of "Sesame Street."; Title: Meet the Band (Small Potatoes) | [
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19,041 | 2 | Janet Lawler stopped working as an attorney to become a full-time mom and author after the adoption of her daughter.Alison Jay is the acclaimed illustrator of Picture This . . . and J. Patrick Lewis's A World of Wonders, among other children's books.; Title: If Kisses Were Colors (Little Letters) | [
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19,042 | 2 | Josh Selig is the Founder and President of Little Airplane Productions.He is the Creator and Executive of many preschool series including The Wonder Pets! on Nick Jr. (winner of the 2009 Japan Prize for Best Television Series), 3rd & Bird and Small Potatoes on CBeebies and Disney Junior.Josh has received 10 Emmy Awards for his work as a writer on Sesame Street and has won a Humanitas Award forhis work as Head Writer on Nick Jr.'s Little Bill.He was also the Resident Producer in Jerusalem for the historic Israeli-Palestinian production of Sesame Street.; Title: The Small Potatoes Go Camping | [
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19,043 | 0 | Nancy Krulik has written more than 100 books for children and young adults, including two New York Times best sellers. Follow Nancy on Twitter @NancyKrulik.; Title: Follow That Furball #3 (Magic Bone) | [
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19,044 | 0 | Rebecca Janni (www.rebeccajanni.com) is a teacher and a real cowgirl herself! She currently lives in Des Moines, Iowa.; Title: Nellie Sue, Happy Camper: An Every Cowgirl Book | [
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19,045 | 2 | Adam-Troy Castro has said in interviews that he likes to jump genres and styles and has therefore refused to ever stay in place long enough to permit the unwanted existence of a creature that could be called a typical Adam-Troy Castro story. As a result, his short works range from the wild farce of his Vossoff and Nimmitz tales to the grim Nebula nominee Of a Sweet Slow Dance in the Wake of Temporary Dogs. His twenty prior books include a nonfiction analysis of the Harry Potter phenomenon, four Spider-Man adventures, and three novels about his interstellar murder investigator, Andrea Cort (including a winner of the Philip K. Dick Award, Emissaries from the Dead). Adams other award nominations include eight Nebulas, two Hugos, and three Stokers. Adam lives in Miami with his wife, Judi, and three insane cats named Uma Furman, Meow Farrow, and Harley Quinn.Chapter One:The Girl Who Looked a Lot Like Fernie What But Who Still Wasnt Fernie What Despite what were so frequently shown in movies, not all of lifes worst news arrives on a dark and stormy night, with thunder and lightning for company. Some terrible news arrives on glorious sunny days, sometimes even in the well-lit kitchens of Fluorescent Salmon houses. For instance, outside the home of the What family, the light was bright and golden, the grass lush and green. The air rang with the joyful melodies of birdsong and the distant laughter of neighborhood children. All was right with the world. Inside the house, the famous world adventurer Nora What stood reading a very strange and frightening letter from her missing ten-year-old daughter, Fernie. Mrs. What had just returned from one of her frequent televised expeditions and was still dressed in a safari jacket, jodhpurs, and a pith helmet. She wore a necklace of lions teeth shed been given by local tribesmen impressed by her skill at evading crocodiles in a swim across a river most sensible people avoided because it almost had more crocodiles than water. (The local tribesmen generally resisted engaging in such pointlessly risky activities themselves and considered Nora What insane and stupid for doing what they quite sensibly would not. But theyd learned from past exposures to self-proclaimed adventurers that the best way to get rid of a crazy person in a pith helmet was to praise her for her bravery and give her a ceremonial necklace of some kind and thus some reason to think shed accomplished something of note.) On her return home, Mrs. What had expected to be met at the airport by her husband and her daughters, ten-year-old Fernie and twelve-year-old Pearlie. Shed made this arrangement with her husband just three weeks earlier. The trip to pick her up was going to be a surprise for the girls. But her family hadnt been at the airport when she got off the plane. They hadnt answered the phone, nor had they been at home when Mrs. What arrived in front of the new house in a taxi. Mrs. What supposed that they might have had car trouble, forgotten the date, or gone out on some unexpected errand, but the family cat, Harrington, was missing, too, and it was difficult for her to imagine an unexpected errand that could possibly require the participation of a cat. All of this had been extremely disturbing to Mrs. What, who despite her frequent and lengthy professional absences loved her family and liked being able to come home to them. Still, it had not been anywhere near as disturbing as the letter Mrs. What had just read, not once but five times. Mrs. What wasnt sure that she was supposed to believe what she read. Fernie had written that the spooky house across the street was inhabited by shadows that walked and talked and had lives of their own. She went on to explain that it also contained the Pit, a gateway to a strange otherworldly realm called the Dark Country. The homeland of all shadows, it was at war with an evil conqueror named Lord Obsidian, which was admittedly exactly the kind of name Mrs. What supposed was appropriate for the kind of person who made war with dark countries. Mrs. Whats husband and her older daughter, Pearlie, had somehow fallen into the Pit and would never be seen again unless rescued. Fernies letter concluded with the news that shed taken Harrington the cat and joined the houses one somewhat human resident, a strange boy named Gustav Gloom, on an expedition with exactly that purpose in mind. Fernie had written all of this in just a couple of pages, rushing through a complicated story that probably would have required three full-length illustrated books to tell and still left a lot unexplained. Mrs. What wasnt sure that further details would have rendered the story any more comprehensible, but they might have helped. When theres a pile of questions fighting to be asked, the first one to escape is sometimes the best. Mrs. What wondered out loud, Exactly how old is this letter, anyway? A voice that sounded just like Fernies replied, Fernie wrote it about eight days ago. While it struck Mrs. What as distinctly odd that Fernie would refer to herself using her own name, the relief she felt that this nonsense about shadow houses and dark countries was all over and done with was overwhelming. She spun in her chair, a big broad smile on her face. Then she faltered. The room was inhabited by shadows. Not the kind of shadows that were normally present in the corners of rooms, but actual active presences who had been standing around behind Mrs. What, waiting for her to finish reading Fernies letter. One was a hulking figure in a tuxedo, another a lanky man wearing a striped suit and a flat straw hat, and a third looked enough like Fernie to make Mrs. Whats heart ache. She had Fernies eyes and Fernies nose and Fernies chin and pretty much everything else Fernie had except for the bright red hairwhich wasnt to say that this girl was bald, only that her hair looked more like what red hair looks like in black-and-white photographs. It would have been all too tempting for Mrs. What to still believe that this actually was Fernie in some way... but Mrs. What was an attentive and loving mother in between her frequent expeditions, and she could tell from the way the little girl carried herself that she was not Fernie at all, but a different person who just happened to look like her. Mrs. What could only say so. Youre not Fernie. I didnt say I was, the little girl shadow replied. But you talk like her. You have her voice. Im her shadow. How else would you expect me to sound? Mrs. What, who had seen her share of astonishing sights, had not seen anything quite this astonishing for as far back as she could remember. I didnt expectyouto have a voice at all. The shadow girl sniffed. All shadows have voices. But we just dont speak that much around people from the world of light. Mrs. What didnt know what to say. Ummm. Im sorry? The hulking figure rolled his eyes. Thats exactly the kind of answer that makes flesh-and-blood people so often not worth my valuable time. Youll have to forgive Hives, said the shadow of the man in the striped suit and straw hat. Hes the Gloom houses terrible butler. Its his job to always be rude to the people who need his help. He seems to be awfully good at it, Mrs. What noted. Im a professional, sniffed Hives. As for me, said the man in the straw hat, Im the shadow of a fellow named Mr. Notes, who last I checked wasnt a very nice man at all, but I dont follow him around anymore and Im trying to be a much more pleasant person. I hope well be good friends. One of the many pressing questions piling up in Mrs. Whats head, so deep by now that it was a wonder she had room to think at all, squirmed out from underneath. She addressed it to the shadow girl. If youre Fernies shadow, arent you supposed to be with her? Im a free being. I can be wherever I want to be. But youreusuallywith her, arent you? Yes, Fernies shadow said, I am, but thats a matter of choice, and its because I like her. With a faint note of disapproval, she added, Personally, I think you should spend more time with her yourself. Why arent you with her now? Well, I do tend to stick very close to Fernie, but then a little while back, when she was being chased by a shadow dinosaur, I got stomped on and jammed up between his toes. Suddenly, swimming with crocodiles seemed very mundane to Mrs. What. Does that kind of thing happen often? Where Fluffy the tyrannosaur is concerned? Unfortunately, yes. Theyre not toes you want to get yourself stuck between. They smell like rotten bananas dipped in rancid mayonnaise and stored in a sweaty gym sock. I dont know why they call that big lummox Fluffy when he should be called Stinky instead. Mrs. What felt the room spinning. Losing a little control of your story, arent you? I suppose. Anyway, it normally takes a shadow no time at all to recover from being crushed flat or to get out from under heavy objects like dinosaur toes, but I wasnt the only shadow Fluffy stomped in that crowded hallway, and his feet were sticky, so we all got mixed together in a kind of jam. When we fell off, it was all in one big lump, like hard candies melted together in a bowl. A very bad shadow named Ursula recovered a couple of seconds before the rest of us did and had the time to lock me away in what I suppose you would call a closet, where I remained imprisoned until Gustavs shadow, who was looking for me by that point, heard my cries and let me out. Mr. Notess shadow took over the story. Yes. You see, Mrs. What, Fernies friend Gustav had sent his shadow to find Fernies shadow, but by the time he succeeded in that mission, Fernie had already left with Gustav to rescue your husband and older daughter from the Dark Country. The strangeness of this encounter had overwhelmed Mrs. What so much that until this last sentence shed almost managed to forget that they were talking about the fate of her family. The letter says... they fell into a pit of some kind? Hives sniffed. Your husbands clumsy. This was the first part of the story Mrs. What couldnt even begin to argue with. And... Gustav and Fernie have gone there to rescue them? Uh-huh, said Fernies shadow. Word around the house has it that they must have taken the Cryptic Carousel. Mrs. What didnt know what a Cryptic Carousel was, but it struck her as the kind of detail that instantly grants believability to unbelievable stories. Without wanting to, she suddenly found herself certain that everything Fernie had written about in her letter, all that nonsense about a house filled with shadows and a pit down to the country all shadows came from and so on, was absolutely true. The awfulness of this revelation welled up in her like a storm, leaving her frantic in the manner that only a terrified mother can be frantic. She leaped to her feet and made the chair fall over behind her and clatter on the kitchen floor like angry applause. Oh...my family! Fernies shadow bit her shadow lip. I know its upsetting. Im still not entirely sure that telling you was better thannottelling you, but I figured that Fernie would want you informed, so weve kept an eye on your house, hoping to scoot on over here and give you the heads-up if you came home. What... what should I do? Thats a very good question, said Fernies shadow. You think so? asked Hives. It strikes me as a wholly average question. Its relevant and to the point, Mr. Notess shadow argued. Oh, I recognize that, Hives allowed. I wouldnt call it a bad question, either. But its not as brilliantly incisive as youre painting it. I wouldnt give this woman credit for asking a very good question yet. Mrs. What had suffered more than enough of this.I wasnt asking your opinion of the question. I was asking you to answer the question! What do I have to do to get my family back? The shadow of Mrs. Whats younger daughter surprised her by crossing the distance between them and placing one gray hand on the back of hers. The comforting touch felt cool, like a piece of silk, but aside from the temperature it was so much like Fernies touch that Mrs. What felt her heart break a little at the thought that this could be all she had left. This is the problem, Fernies shadow said. Im really not all that sure that theres much we can do. You mean its hopeless? No. Nothings ever hopeless. But there isnt much youcando, is my point. Theres no purpose in informing the police of your world that your familys gone missing, because theyll never believe your story about where your familys gone and would only waste time looking in all the places in your world where we already know your family isnt. You cant go down to the Dark Country yourself looking for them, because the only way for you to get there now that the Carousels gone is to jump into the Pit yourself, and thatll more than likely only deliver you to Lord Obsidian and make you yet another person Gustav and Fernie will need to rescue... and trust me, they already have plenty of those. All of this made a crazy kind of sense, even if it also made no sense whatsoever. Mrs. What, who was normally brilliant at dealing with emergencies and had once survived a week buried alive by an avalanche using nothing but a teapot, a hand mirror, and a fountain pen, now found herself paralyzed with fear. But I cant just sit here and do nothing! My children are not helpless, Mr. Notess shadow finished. Yes, theyre in more trouble than any person of flesh should ever have to face, but if you knew the kind of dangers theyve already braved, and the kind of monsters theyve already defeated, youd be more proud of your girls than youve ever been before. Mrs. What was proud of her girls already, but still didnt find this very comforting. The shadow girl paused now, to give her next words a weight that even a distraught mother had to feel. And then you also have to consider Gustav. Im sure hes a very brave little boy, but Fernies shadow took offense at that. Hes more than just brave, more than just the best friend Fernie has ever had or ever will have. Hes half shadow himself, almost as fast and cunning and hard to kill as a shadowa good thing, as hes spent all his life in a wondrous place facing down more dangers than even you could possibly imagine. If you knew the things hes already done and the things he is prepared to do in defense of your family, then youd know that your girls and husband are in the hands of the best possible companion. If anybody can get them home alive, its him. The certainty in the shadow girls voice was like nothing Mrs. What had ever heard. It was the kind of faith she would have liked to have in a friendthe kind so great that it banished all doubt. Maybe that made her feel a little better... but a little was not nearly enough. She was a woman who faced dangers on her own rather than allowing others to face them for her, and it was difficult for her to endure being told, by a shadow no less, that there was nothing she could do. Struggling to remind herself that this strange thing really did seem to be happening and was not just some terrible dream brought on by airline food, she protested, But I cant just stay here and pretend nothings happened. Ill go crazy. I have to be able to dosomething. The shadow girls features softened, showing compassion that was so much like the way Fernie would have, it was all Mrs. What could do just to avoid breaking into tears. Im sorry. I really cant think of anything useful. Maybe theres someone else I can talk to? There are plenty of other shadows you can talk to, but not many whod answer you, or agree to get involved, or give you the kind of help you want. Great-Aunt Mellifluous is down in the Dark Country herself, helping to lead the battle against Lord Obsidian. Gustavs shadow already dived into the Pit himself to try to catch up with them. Hives, here, has duties in the house that he needs to get back to. Mr. Notess shadow... She hesitated and apologized to him. Im sorry, hes a good friend, but just isnt the most useful person to have around in a crisis. Im not, Mr. Notess shadow apologized. I panic too easily. Fernies shadow continued: Hieronymus Spector is a villain who would lead you nowhere but ruin. And Fluffy, for all his good points, has never been the brightest bulb in the pack. Hes helpful when you want to break something, not so helpful when it comes to giving advice. These names meant nothing to Mrs. What, but she gathered that none of the individuals mentioned would be able or willing to help. Isnt there anybody else? Anybody else would either ignore you or try to make matters worse for you. Im sorry, but try as I might, I cant think of even one other shadow we could turn to... Then youre not thinking very hard, a new voice said. I know a shadow who can help. It wasnt actually a new voice, but a very familiar one. It was the voice of a healthy woman in her early forties, a voice that Mrs. What knew exactly as well as she knew her own. Mrs. What whirled again, realizing as she did that she was certainly doing a lot of that today. She found herself facing a shadow exactly her height, wearing the same kind of safari jacket and jodhpurs and pith helmet she wore; a shadow who presented herself as being slightly younger than she was, but still wore a face Mrs. What knew from seeing it in the mirror every morning. I volunteer, her shadow said. What happened next was not a typical thing for Mrs. Nora What. She was an intrepid and world-famous explorer and adventurer. She climbed mountains blindfolded, she swam with crocodiles, she kayaked off the edges of towering waterfalls, and she tickled sharks. She had done any number of things just because shed been dared to do them, and had never once run away from a challenge in fear. But she had also already received several upsetting shocks in the last few minutes, shocks that completely disturbed her understanding of the way the world worked and had shaken her even more than shed realized. The second her own shadow spoke to her, she did something she had never done before. Nora What, fearless explorer and adventurer, fainted.; Title: Gustav Gloom and the Inn of Shadows #5 | [
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19,046 | 2 | Veera Hiranandani has an MFA in Fiction Writing from Sarah Lawrence College, spent six years as a book editor, and is the author of the middle grade novel The Whole Story of Half a Girlas well as the chapter book series, Phoebe G. Green. She is the proud mom of two emerging foodies who even like to eat their vegetables (most of the time).She lives with her husband and children in New York. Visit her at www.veerahiranandani.com and follow her on Twitter @VeeraHira.Joelle Dreidemy studied art at the Emile Cohl School in Lyon, France. She lives in Paris, France, where she creates illustrations for picture books includingThe Lamb Who Came for DinnerandSmelly Peter the Great Pea Eater, magazines, and greeting cards for publishers all over the world. Joelle also writes songs, sings, and plays bass guitar in a rock band. www.joelledreidemy.frGROSSET & DUNLAPPublished by the Penguin GroupPenguin Group (USA) LLC, 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USAUSA | Canada | UK | Ireland | Australia | New Zealand | India | South Africa | Chinapenguin.comA Penguin Random House Company; Title: Farm Fresh Fun #2 (Phoebe G. Green) | [
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19,047 | 2 | Gr 46In this stand-alone sequel to Just Jake (Grosset & Dunlap, 2014), Jake has settled into Kinney Elemantary School but is thrown a curve when he gets a new teacher, Ms. Cane, who is extreme in appearance and teaching style. Instead of doing traditional schoolwork for the rest of the year, the class will take on a project: operating Ms. Cane's mobile pet-grooming business. Jake touts his "awesomeness," but like Wimpy Kid's Greg Heffley, he's no role model. Jake's understanding that Ms. Cane isn't using the kids to be mean (she's afraid of not having enough money to retire) evaporates the instant he is reassigned to a menial task other kids had been doing. His envy of buddy Michael's lacrosse and business skills undermines their friendship until Michael offers to help with the menial work. Author Marcionette, now in eighth grade, shows promise in moments of genuine wit (such as writing an amusing parental permission slip) despite heavy use of exclamation points to fabricate drama. Pop culture references including Vine, selfies, Yelp, and slang terms like adorbs may limit the title's circulation life. Villa's full-color cartoons, cutouts and captions support the tween humor; sharp-eyed readers will appreciate his flip animation drawings throughout. VERDICT Fun for those who can't get enough of the heavily illustrated, comic diary novel format.Marybeth Kozikowski, Sachem Public Library, Holbrook, NYJake Marcionette is a kid author and lives in Jacksonville, Florida with his family. His favorite sport is lacrosse. His first book, Just Jake #1 published in Winter 2014 to great success featuring national and local televsions spots, successful book signings and array of local and national print media. It debuted at No. 7 on the New York Times Best Seller List for Middle Grade books. He found his agent, Dan Lazar at Writer's House by googling "how to publish a book" and cold-calling agents.; Title: Just Jake: Dog Eat Dog #2 | [
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19,048 | 0 | Onk Beakman has devoted his life to chronicling the greatest adventures of the Skylanders. Though he was hatched on the icy wastes of Skylandss Frozen Desert, this book-loving penguin now lives in a shack on the beautiful sands of Blistering Beach with his two pet cucumbers.; Title: The Mask of Power: Spyro Versus the Mega Monsters #1 (Skylanders Universe) | [
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19,049 | 18 | Janet B. Pascal is the author of Who Was Dr. Seuss?and Who Was Abraham Lincoln? She lives in New York City.; Title: Who Was Maurice Sendak? | [
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19,050 | 0 | "Add Tiny to the roll call of great dogs in children's literature: Ribsy, Martha, Carl, Mudge. He may just wind up being a young reader's best friend." The Horn Book review for Tiny Goes to the Library"Tiny is a big charmer." School Library Journal review for Tiny Goes to the Library"What could be better than a huge, goofy, lovable hound, unless it's being able to read about him independently?" BCCB review for Tiny's BathCari Meister lives in Excelsior, Minnesota.; Title: Tiny the Birthday Dog | [
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19,051 | 0 | David A. Adler is the author of over two hundred children's books. He lives in Woodmere, New York.; Title: Young Cam Jansen and the Magic Bird Mystery | [
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19,052 | 0 | Jenny Goebel is the mother of three, and in her free time, she writes anything from picture books to middle-grade novels.Sebastiaan Van Doninck grew up with twelve brothers and sisters in a small village in Belgium. He is now a freelance illustrator in a range of countries throughout the world.; Title: Foreman Farley Has a Backhoe (Penguin Core Concepts) | [
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19,053 | 0 | Gr 2-5-Precocious Agatha, 12, is an international detective. With the help of her cousin-in-training, her butler, her sleuthing cat, and a poisonous cactus, she takes Egypt by storm in pursuit of a stolen artifact. With the smarts of Nancy Drew and the charm of Eloise, Agatha is an exciting addition to the girl-detective canon. Action-packed black-and-white illustrations are scattered throughout and range in size from small insets to full spreads. The story is fast-paced and contains enough surprises to keep readers engaged. The illustrations will entice those transitioning to chapter books, but the sometimes-challenging vocabulary make this a pick for those with a higher reading level. A fun, modern-day detective story with an international flair.-Sarah Townsend, Norfolk Public Library, VA (c) Copyright 2011. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.The Agatha Mistery detective series kicks off by introducing the 12-year-old Londoner, an aspiring whodunit writer with an incredible memory; her cousin, Dash, a student at the Eye International Detective Agency; her butler, Chandler, a former heavyweight boxer; and Watson, Agathas Siberian cat. Dashs Investigation Techniques exam involves recovering a missing artifact from an Egyptian dig, and he invites Agatha and company to join him. Each contributes to solving the case (Chandler, for example, pretends to be the true sleuth, allowing Agatha and Dash to investigate unobserved) but its always clear that Agatha is in charge. The first of seven proposed titles, this Italian translation offers beginning chapter-book readers engaging characters, clever gadgets, and a well-plotted mystery full of quirky details (a cactus suffused with a paralyzing toxin and an Egyptologist addicted to ice-cream pops) and carefully constructed clues. Turconis humorous black-and-white illustrations add detail to the Egyptian locales. Perfect for graduates of David A. Adlers Cam Jansen series, especially those who enjoy Lauren Childs Clarice Bean books. Grades 3-5. --Kay Weisman; Title: The Curse of the Pharaoh #1 (Agatha: Girl of Mystery) | [
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19,054 | 2 | AJ Stern lives in Brooklyn, New York. Doreen Mulryan Marts lives in Lake Hopatcong, New Jersey.; Title: Here Comes the...Trouble! (Frankly, Frannie) | [
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19,055 | 15 | This book is perfect for aFluent Readerwho:This book is a Level 4N Guided Reader.; Title: Ocean Monsters (Penguin Young Readers, Level 4) | [
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19,056 | 15 | Margaret Frith lives in Manhattan and North Port, New York. John O'Brien lives in Deleran, New Jersey. Nancy Harrison lives in Allentown, Pennsylvania.; Title: Quin fue Thomas Alva Edison? (Who Was?) (Spanish Edition) | [
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19,057 | 2 | Sue Bentley lives in England. Angela Swan lives in northeast England. Andrew Farley lives in the South of England.; Title: Seaside Mystery #9 (Magic Kitten) | [
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19,058 | 2 | Nancy Krulik has written over one hundred books for children and young adults, including two New York Times best sellers. You can follow Nancy on Twitter @NancyKrulik. She lives in New York City.Get the full-size candy bars, Mom, George Brown pleaded. Kids hate when you give them the mini fun-size ones.Georges mom looked at the stacks and stacks of bags of Halloween candy on the store shelf. Nope, sorry. Its the mini candy bars, or no candy bars.At least your mom gives away candy on Halloween, Georges best friend, Alex, said. My mom gives everyone mini tubes of toothpaste. Talk about embarrassing.George gave Alex a sympathetic look. I guess thats what happens when your mom is a dentist.Alex nodded and pointed to the shelves filled with ooey, gooey sugary candy. This place is my moms worst nightmare. She calls candy bars a cavity waiting to happen.Which is why its good you boys will get toothpaste in your trick-or-treat bags, Georges mom interrupted. She gave George a stern look. And you really have to watch how much you eat in one sitting. Remember what happened last year.Dont remind me, George said with a groan. This Halloween, he would try not to eat his whole bag of candy in one night. But then again, he made that same promise every year.I still have a few things to buy, Georges mom told the boys. Why dont you two go over to the next aisle and take a look at the masks?Good idea! George shouted.Right behind you, dude, Alex said as he followed him to the costume aisle.Alex picked up a clown costume in a box. I remember when I used to wear these kinds of costumes, he said. I hated the plastic masks with the rubber band around the back.Me too, George agreed. I could never see through the eyeholes, and it got all hot and sweaty near where my nose was supposed to go.Alex walked farther down the aisle and picked up a rubber monster mask. Now this is cool, he said.George looked at the mask. It had rubber nails jammed into the neck, big bulging eyes, and blood dripping down the sides. It was scary.But not nearly as scary as what was suddenly happening in the bottom of Georges belly. There was something really frightening going on down there. Bubbles. Hundreds of them. And they were bouncing around madly.Bing-bang. Ping-pang.George gulped. Those werent ordinary, weak, wimpy bubbles. They were strong, crazy bubbles. Bubbles that kickboxed his kidneys and boomeranged from his bladder. Bubbles that were threatening to burst out of him at any moment, and...Just then, George let out a powerful burp. A super burp. A burp so loud, and so strong, it knocked the rubber mask right out of Alexs hands.Dude! No! Alex shouted.Dude! Yes! The magical super burp had escaped. And now, whatever the burp wanted to do, George had to do.The burp wanted to eat some candy corn. So the next thing George knew, his feet were running back over to the candy aisle. His hands reached out, grabbed a big bag of candy corn, ripped it open, and started pouring the orange-and-yellow candies into his mouth.Kid, what are you doing? one of the stores employees shouted at him.Then he called across the store to Georges mom. Lady, is this your kid?Georges mother turned around. Oh no. Not again! she cried out. Her cheeks got all red. George! Stop that right now!George wanted to stop. He really did. He didnt even like candy corn. But the super burp loved candy corn.Lady, youre going to have to pay for that candy, the employee said.George, get out of the candy aisle this instant! his mother yelled.For once, the burp let George do what he was told. George bolted back toward the costume aisle.A few older girls were standing there, buying face paint. George pushed them aside and grabbed a green rubber mask with bulging eyes and snakes for hair.Cant you say excuse me? one of the girls demanded.George wanted to say excuse me. But he couldnt. The burp never said excuse me for anything.Instead, George threw on the mask and started shaking his head. The rubbery snakes wiggled all around.Hiss! Hiss! Georges mouth said.One of the older girls shuddered. I hate snakes, she told her friend. Even fake ones.Snakeman bites! George said.The girls grabbed packets of face paint and hurried out of the aisle.Georges mother came running over. Put that mask back on the shelf. NOW!George stared at his mom. Her face had gone from red to purple. She looked like her head might explode.And tie your shoelace, Georges mom continued. Youre going to fall.Hissssss! George replied.A little boy who had been looking at a Superman costume started to cry. SNAKES! That monsters scary!The boys mother turned to Georges mom. You need to control your son! she told her.George! his mother shouted. NO MORE WARNINGS. Stop what youre doing this instant. She reached out and tried to grab him. But George was fast. He began to run down the aisle.Hisssss!Whoops!Plop.George tripped over his shoelace and landed on his belly. Quickly, he flipped over onto his back. His arms and legs waved crazily in the air. He looked like an upside-down crab. Well, an upside-down crab with a scary snake-haired mask on its head.George yanked off his sneakers and waved his stinky feet in the air. Trick or treat! Smell my feet! he shouted.The little boy cried harder.The smell of stinky feet spread through the store.Pop! Just then George felt something burst in the bottom of his belly. All the air rushed out of him. The super burp was gone.But George was still there, with the mask on his head, and his feet in the air. Quickly he sat up, whipped off the mask, and looked around. No one looked happy. Even Alex was shaking his head.Dude, your feet smell, Alex said.George opened his mouth to say, Im sorry. And thats exactly what came out.George, get up, his mom demanded. And put your shoes back on. Were going home. Well talk about this later.George frowned. He was in trouble. Again.Stupid super burp. It was all tricks and no treat.How much trouble are you in? Alex asked George over the phone later that afternoon.My moms pretty angry, George admitted. I had to pay her back for the candy I ate at the store. And then she made me clean out the garage as a punishment. Not exactly the way I wanted to spend Sunday afternoon.It could have been worse, Alex pointed out. The burp really made you go out of control.I hate burps, George groaned. More than anything.I know, Alex said, trying to sound as if he understood. But how could he? George was the only kid in town who was bugged by burps. Oh sure, other kids burped sometimes. But nobody burped quite the way George did.It all started when George and his family first arrived in Beaver Brook. Georges dad was in the army, so the family moved around a lot. George knew that first days at school could be pretty rotten. But this first day was the most rotten.In his old school, George had been the class clown. He was always pulling pranks and making jokes. But George had promised himself that things were going to be different at Edith B. Sugarman Elementary School. He was turning over a new leaf. No more pranks. No more whoopee cushions or spitballs shot through straws. No more bunny ears behind peoples heads. No more goofing on teachers when their backs were turned.Of course, being the non-funny new kid in school didnt exactly make him popular. And as he left school that first day, the only friend George had was the same one he walked in with: Me, myself, and I.That night, Georges parents took him out to Ernies Ice Cream Emporium. While they were sitting outside and George was finishing his root beer float, a shooting star flashed across the sky. So George made a wish.I want to make kids laughbut not get into trouble.Unfortunately, the star was gone before George could finish the wish. So only half came truethe first half.; Title: Burp or Treat . . . Smell My Feet! Super Special (George Brown, Class Clown) | [
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19,059 | 18 | Patricia Brennan Demuth is an educator and children's book author. She has authored Who Is Bill Gates? and several titles for young readers, including many books in the leveled reader program for Penguin Young Readers.; Title: What Was Pearl Harbor? | [
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19,060 | 2 | Lin Oliver (www.linoliver.com) has written several books for children, and she is the executive director of the Society for Children's Book Writers and Illustrators.Hey, Charlie, youve got to come outside right now and check this out, my older brother, Ryan, yelled, pounding on my bedroom door. Its the weirdest thing Ive even seen!I was sitting cross-legged on my bed, deeply engrossed in applying a second coat of fluorescent lime-green polish to my nails.What could be weirder than you? I hollered back, suspecting that this was just another one of Ryans practical jokes.I held out my hand to examine the effect. Perfect. The green was so bright that I practically needed sunglasses to look at it. Usually, I prefer a more neutral shade, like light pink or pale silver. When Im feeling bad, though, I go for bolder colors. My twin sister, Sammie, says she can tell my mood from my nailsthe brighter the color, the worse my mood. So my choice of the smoking-hot fluorescent lime-green polish should tell you something about how miserable a mood I was in.Okay, fine, Ryan said. Stay in there. I guess you dont want to see how totally insane Lauren is acting.I jumped off my bed, practically tripped over my own feet, and flung open the door.Did you say Lauren? I asked, waving both my hands urgently in the air so the polish would dry faster.Yeah. Shes out on the tennis court, acting like a chicken. Clucking and everything.Wait. You dont mean Lauren Wadsworth, do you?Lauren was definitely not the kind of person who would go around clucking like a chicken for no reason.Yeah. Lauren Wadsworth. As in your exbest friend. Remember her?I didnt appreciate his sarcasm. Of course I remembered her. It had been three weeks since Lauren and I had stopped talking, but I thought about her every day and wished we were still friends. My grandma GoGo says its really hard to lose a best friend. No matter what your problems were or what you fought about or how much you believe you were right and she was wrong. Because the sad fact is that one day you have a best friend and the next day you dont. Trust me, that can put a person in a really miserable mood, one that even the brightest green nail polish cant fix.Are you positive its Lauren? I asked Ryan.I guess theres always the possibility that its a mutant clone of her.Very funny. Score another sarcastic comment for Ryan.He had to be wrong. I knew it couldnt be Lauren. Sammie, and her Truth Tellers friends Alicia and Sara, might think it was hilarious to walk around clucking like a chicken or growling like a tiger. But theyre drama kidsand theyre always coming up with weird stuff to do. Lauren is a whole other kind of person. Shes cool and popular and beautiful. The total opposite of weird. She wouldnt go clucking around unless she had lost her mind or something.I dont believe you.Come see for yourself, Charles. Shes right in the middle of the tennis court.Okay, I said, but Im warning you, Ry. If this is one of your lame practical jokes, Im never speaking to you again.Is that a threat or a promise? he answered, cracking himself up.I slipped into my flip-flops, gave one last wave of my hands, and ran out of my room. Following Ryan, I zoomed out of the house onto the deck and headed to the tennis courts, which are between the house and the beach. By the way, dont get the idea that were rich enough to live on the beach with our own private tennis court or anything. We live in the caretakers cottage at the Sporty Forty Beach Club in Santa Monica, California, where my dad is the tennis teacher while my Mom is away at cooking school. The forty families who belong to the club, like the Wadsworths, now theyre rich. We, on the other hand, are totally not.As I raced past the kitchen, I caught sight of GoGo and some girl out of the corner of my eye.Whats the rush? GoGo called out to me through the open window. Come meet Bethany.I will later, GoGo, I answered without losing a step.When I neared the tennis courts, I suddenly realized that I needed a plan. I couldnt just barge out there and ask Lauren what was up with the chicken thing. She probably wouldnt answer me. After all, we still werent speaking.What had happened between us was no little fightit was major. I had told the police that Sean and Jared, two of her best friends, had started a bonfire at the beach that almost burned the neighbors house down. They got in big-time trouble. I felt I had to tell the truth, but Lauren didnt think so. She said that the kids in the SF2sher group, which until a couple weeks ago used to be my group, toowere loyal to each other, no matter what. They didnt rat each other out. Since then, she hasnt spoken to me, and neither have most of the other SF2s, except for Lily March and, thankfully, Spencer Ballard, the cutest boy in the entire seventh grade.I decided to crouch down behind a bush. Craning my neck, I peeked through the chain-link fence that surrounds the two tennis courts. I couldnt see the whole court, just Lauren standing by the net, dressed in her usual great-fitting jeans and a yellow tank top that matched the gold highlights in her hair. She looked totally normal.See? Whatd I tell you? Ryan whispered as he crouched down next to me. Shes crazy, isnt she?Shes not doing anything even remotely crazy, I whispered back. Youre the crazy one.But before he could say anything, Lauren put her hands on her hips, bent her arms at the elbow and started moving them back and forth like a chicken flapping its wings. Then she took off strutting around the court, poking her head in and out, the way a chicken does when it walks.Hey, Lauren, I dont hear you clucking, a girls voice called from the open kitchen window.Bethany, do I have to? Lauren whined. Its so embarrassing.We all did it! the girl named Bethany shouted back. You can, too.Cluck, cluck, cluck, Lauren said, sounding like a really angry chicken.Bethany howled with laughter. Keep going, Lauren. Ill let you stop when Im finished talking to the cook here.What cook? I thought. Then I realized that Bethany was the girl in the kitchen who was talking to GoGo. It happens that GoGo is a great cookher guacamole is to die forbut she does not work at the club as a cook. She helps plan the parties and events, which is an entirely other thing.Who does she think she is, calling GoGo the cook? I whispered to Ryan.Obviously one of the rich kids who belong here, he said. They think everyone works for them.That girl isnt a member. Ive never seen her here before.Me neither, he said, trying to peer into the kitchen. But my eyes are happy theyre seeing her now.He made one of those boy hoots, the sound guys make when they see someone way too pretty for them to even talk to. The sound attracted Laurens attention, and she strutted over to the fence where we were crouched.Whos there? she asked, pointing her face in our direction.I crouched lower but Ryan stood up.Ryan! I heard Lauren giggle. She has a huge crush on my brother and likes to think that he has a huge crush back. How long have you been here?Long enough to see you do this, Ryan said. Then he immediately went into his imitation of Lauren imitating a chicken.Oh no! she said. Please forget you ever saw that. Its definitely not my best look.I didnt mind it, Ryan answered. I like chickens. I usually like them fried with mashed potatoes on the side, but apparently, thats not your style.I can explain this whole thing, Lauren said.I hear you talking, Lauren, Bethany interrupted from the kitchen. Thats against the rules. Only clucking until I say you can stop.Lauren dropped her voice to a low whisper. Im trying out for a club, she explained, just loud enough so Ryan could hear. Of course, I could hear, too, but she couldnt see me.And this club, Ryan said. Is it just for people who impersonate chickens, or do you guys allow other poultry in, too? I do a mean duck quack.No, silly, Lauren said in the flirtiest tone of voice youve ever heard. The club is called The Waves. My cousin Bethany is president.The Waves? Oh yeah. That spirit club at the high schoolthe one with all the hot girls who come to the football games and cheer?Yup, thats it. And Bethany might let me start a Junior Waves at Beachside. But first I have to be initiated, which includes acting like a chicken until she says I can stop.Ahh . . . initiation by clucking, Ryan said. Thats girl logic for you.Lauren laughed. She has this high giggle that makes you want to laugh right along with her. I remember the first night I slept over at her house and we tried on her moms gold jewelry and took pictures of ourselves trying to look very sophisticated. I laughed so much my stomach hurt.I shifted my position behind the bush, suddenly aware that my leg was falling asleep. As I moved my foot, I thought I felt something crawling on it. Looking down, I saw the biggest spider you have ever seen walking up my ankle. It wasnt a sweet little spider like Charlotte, but a huge brownish thing with a shiny body and long purple-tinted legs. And those legs were crawling past my ankle and up to my knee.Have I mentioned that I hate spiders? Well, I do.I couldnt control myself. I jumped up and started screaming like I was being attacked by a zombie. I pulled off my sweatshirt and wildly swatted at my leg with the sleeve. I could hear myself yelling in this really panicky way, but I couldnt stop myself until I finally knocked the spider off my leg and it dropped to the ground. It was only then that I realized Lauren was staring at me with a nasty look on her face.Hi, Lauren, I muttered.Why were you spying on me? she accused.I wasnt spying.Oh really? Then what do you call it? And just so you know, my conversation with Ryan doesnt concern you, so Id appreciate it if youd just leave.Whoa there, Ryan said. Charlie lives here. Wheres she supposed to go?Anywhere, as long as its away from me, Lauren told him.Just then, I heard the kitchen screen door slam, and turned around to see a girl who I assumed was Bethany bouncing over to the tennis courts. Okay, she wasnt actually bouncing, but her hair sure was. She had the thickest, shiniest, bounciest hair Id ever seenlike Laurens, only black instead of blonde. Those Wadsworths must have invented the gene for great hair. GoGo followed behind her, leaning on her fancy cane, the one with the carved pink flamingoes for a handle. GoGos been staying with us ever since she broke her leg in a car accident, and even though shes up and around now, she still needs a little help walking.Well, how nice to see you girls talking, she said, sounding all cheery.The conversation is officially over, Lauren snapped.GoGo could feel the hostility in the air. Youd have to be some kind of alien not to. Lauren was looking at me like she wished I would drop through a hole in the ground and disappear. Good ole GoGo, though, she tried to come up with some chatty things to say. She actually believes that if youre nice to people, theyll be nice back to you.Well, Bethany and I certainly got a lot accomplished, she said. We planned the whole theme and menu for her sweet sixteen party. Wait until you girls hear about it.Im totally stoked, Bethany said.The theme is very clever, GoGo said. Its going to be Hats Off to Bethany.Let me guess, Ryan said. Are all the guests going to wear hats?Howd you know? Bethany asked.Ryan is really smart, Lauren said.Let me just point out here, unlike Sammie and I, who get good grades, Ryan is a straight-C student. The only person who would say he is really smart is someone who has a total crush on him.The hats are only the beginning, Bethany gushed on. Were going to give everyone a crazy-fun hat and then at exactly the time I was born, 10:51 p.m., everyones going to take off her hat and throw it in the air. Lily March is helping me design them. Shes really talented, even though shes just a middle-schooler.Lily is an amazing clothes designer, I piped up. She has her own special look.So, Bethany said, looking me up and down, as if it finally occurred to her that she wasnt the only person there. Who are you, exactly?Bethany, meet my granddaughter Charlie, GoGo said. I assumed you two girls knew each other.Oh, so youre one of the twins, Bethany said to me. Are you the one who used to be Laurens friend? Or is that your sister?No, that would be me, I said.Bethany rolled her eyes, looked at her watch and sighed. Theyre late, she announced.Who? Your royal coach and driver? Ryan joked.Lauren giggled, but Bethany clearly was not amused. No. My parents. They have to go over my party details with the staff.I guess that means me, GoGo said, with a little edge in her voice. If you kids will excuse me, the staff has to review the benefits of sliders versus mini pizzas. Then looking at me, she added, Im sure you girls have a lot to discuss as well.I knew GoGo didnt have to leave that minute, but I figured she thought that if we kids were left alone, we would start a fun conversation and before you know it, Lauren and I would be talking again. GoGo always says that anger doesnt last, but friendship does.Well, she was wrong this time.Come on, Bethany, Lauren said, the minute GoGo was gone. We have better things to do than hang out with her. Ryan, you can come with us.Not so fast, Lauren, Bethany said. I dont believe Ive given you permission to stop clucking and strutting.You said I could stop when you got here, Lauren said.I said you could stop when I told you could stop. And I havent yet.Bethany, please, Lauren begged.No whimpering, little cousin, Bethany said. If you want to be in The Waves, you have to do what the president says. Youll understand that when youre president of the Junior Waves. Youll want everyone to follow what you say, too.Lauren looked really annoyed but didnt say anything. Ryan, Mr. Sensitive, filled the silence with a series of duck quacks. Lauren forced a little laugh, but Bethany was not amused. I couldnt blame her for that. Giving Ryana grow up,you dork look, Bethany gathered her hair into a ponytail. I noticed that she was wearing this soft gray-lavender nail polish, and suddenly, I felt like a total idiot for having neon-green nails. Its like my nails were screaming, Charlie Diamond is a total dork, too!Okay, Bethany said to Lauren. Im going to give you a break this time. No more chicken, but only if you go into the kitchen and get me a cold bottle of peach iced tea and bring it to our table.There are only two tables on the whole deck, Ryan pointed out. You guys get one all to yourselves?Do you have a problem with that? Bethany answered, without even looking at him.No, Ryan said. For all I care, you can sit wherever you want. Im going for a run on the beach anyway.Ill take you as far as the kitchen, Lauren said, hooking her arm in his. The two of them trotted off together, leaving me there staring at Bethany.Now that Lauren was gone, I thought maybe shed be nicer to me.So Ill bet its really cool to be in The Waves, I began in my nicest tone of voice.Of course it is, she snapped. Then she turned and headed toward her table.I followed. I shouldnt have, I know. I should have just gone back to my room. I shouldnt have cared whether she liked me or not, but I think I was secretly hoping that she would find me so sweet and fun that she would tell Lauren how wrong she was to end our friendship.Charlie is such a great girl, I imagined her saying. Anyone would want to be her friend.I caught up to her, my brain racing to try to think of something cool to say.I hear you guys have your own Wave T-shirts and do special cheers at all the football games, I said, forcing a grin. That must be a total blast.It is, she answered. Too bad youll never know.That was it. End of conversation. We had reached her table, and Bethany sat down on one of the red-and-white striped beach chairs, reached into her purse and pulled out her sunglasses. She put them on, then turned her face up to the sky, basking in the warm rays of the early afternoon sun. I just stood there watching her ignore me, feeling even more miserable than I had before.Trust me, friends. Being left out hurts.Well, this is an interesting twosome, Lauren said, skipping out of the kitchen and handing Bethany her iced tea.Bethany pushed her sunglasses up to the top of her head, and turned to stare at me.Are you still here? she asked. Dont you have something better to do than to stand there looking all pathetic?I wanted my feet to move, to take me back to my room, away from the embarrassment of the moment. But it was like I was glued to the spot.Honestly, Lauren, Bethany went on, as she unscrewed the bottle top and took a delicate swig of the frosty drink. I cant imagine how on earth you two were friends.Oh, that was forever ago, Lauren answered.Three weeks, I said quietly. It was three weeks ago yesterday.Lauren sat down on the chair next to Bethany and threw her long tan legs up on the table.Whatever, she said. Youll have to excuse me if Im not a human calendar like you.She and Bethany both laughed, and I felt about the size of an ant. Any normal person would have just left, but not me. I started talking a mile a minute, which I do when I get nervous. I either freeze up completely and cant think of a thing to say, or I talk nonstop. Theres nothing in between.Honestly, Lauren, you cant even imagine how bad I feel about everything that happened, I rambled. I didnt like telling on Sean and Jared. I know you guys think I wanted to get them in trouble, but thats just not true. Theyre my friends, too.Were, she said tartly.But if I hadnt told the truth, I jabbered on, Alicias cousin Oscar would have been blamed for what Sean and Jared did. And then he would have been sent back to El Salvador and never would have gotten the operation he needed on his leg. I couldnt live with myself if that had happened.Oh, really? Lauren said, whirling around to face me. Well now look at what youve done to Sean and Jared.She pointed toward the beach where the far end of the deck meets the sand. Sean and Jared were both on their hands and knees, applying varnish to the redwood planks. They were wearing their baseball caps and Oakleys, so you couldnt see much of their faces, but you didnt have to. You could tell from their body language that they were not happy, to say the least.Thanks to you, they have to spend every weekend of the next two months doing all sorts of grungy chores around here, she said. Weeding the garden and folding the towels and refinishing the deck. Its so embarrassing.Theyre helping Candido and Esperanza, I told her. I dont see whats so embarrassing about that.Candido is the groundskeeper at the club, and his wife, Esperanza, cleans and helps in the kitchen. Their daughter Alicia goes to Beachside with us and has become one of Sammies best friends.Lauren put her hands on her hips and spoke to me in the tone of voice you would use to explain kickball rules to a first-grader.Candido works here, she declared. He is not a member. He will never be a member. Sean and Jared, on the other hand, are members. Their parents and grandparents have been in the Sporty Forty since before they were born. They shouldnt be doing the kind of work Candido does. Its just not right.And I suppose its right to set a house on fire? an angry voice said from behind me. Because thats what your so-called friends did.I whipped around to see Alicia standing there. She had obviously overheard what Lauren said, and I couldnt blame her for being mad. It was very insulting to her family. My sister, Sammie, was standing right next to her.At least Candido and Esperanza do honest work and dont hurt anyone, Sammie chimed in. Then, glancing over at Sean and Jared, she added, Can you say the same thing about those jerks over there?Sammie is not at all intimidated by the SF2 girls or by the rich members of the club. She says what she wants, no matter what anyone thinks. Thats why she and those Truth Teller friends of hers get along so well. They call it speaking from the heart. I love my sister, but sometimes I wish her heart would not have so much to say.Bethany focused her eyes on Sammie. I take it youre the other sister, she said. The pudgy one with the sassy mouth.You mean the one who tells it like it is, Alicia said.And proud of it, Sammie added.I closed my eyes and made a wish.Please, Sammie. Dont go into your Truth Teller speech. Not here. Not now. In fact, not ever.She probably would have, but I was saved by the arrival of Dennis and Carol Ann Wadsworth.Oh look, Bethany said as the white picket gate from the parking lot opened up. Finally. Hi, Mom! Hi, Daddy! Over here.Bethanys mom and dad waved and made their way across the deck over to us.Mrs. Wadsworth was what GoGo likes to call a handsome woman, meaning she wasnt pretty in a frilly kind of way but in a sleek I-only-wear-black kind of way. She was dressed in black pants and a black silk top that matched her shiny black hair. Not exactly what youd call a beach look. Her husband, on the other hand, had on the ultimate in beach wearhe was decked out in powder-blue shorts with flip-flops to match, and a pink polo shirt, collar popped, naturally. He had a nice smile, though, so I forgave him for the collar look.Hi, girls, Mrs. Wadsworth said when she reached us. She seemed unaware of the tension in the air. Holding out her hand to me, she said, Im Carol Ann Wadsworth. I dont believe weve met. You must be new to the club.Oh no I began, but was cut off by Mr. Wadsworth.How about that, Carol Ann, he said. We go to Spain for the summer and come back to a whole new membership.Im Charlie Diamond, I persisted, and this is my twin sister, Sammie. Were not actually members.I wanted to set the record straight before this got any more embarrassing.Diamond? Oh, yes . . . Mrs. Wadsworth said with a nod. The children of the new tennis pro. Well, its nice to meet you, anyway.As she shook my hand, I felt her diamond rings crunching up against my fingers.Oh, and hello Alicia, she said. Or now that weve summered in Spain, perhaps I should say, buenos das, seorita.Thats okay, Mrs. Wadsworth. I could tell Alicia was annoyed. Ive lived in America since I was three. I speak English.Oh I know, darling, but dont you find it such fun to speak Spanish?I could see that Alicias mouth was twitching slightly, like she had words right behind her lips that were bursting to come out. I knew that at any second, she could snap and point out that her family didnt speak Spanish for fun but because its the language that people who come from El Salvador actually speak. Mrs. Wadsworth didnt seem aware that there was any problem with Alicia. She just smiled and threw one of her tan arms around Lauren.So, my darling niece, Bethany said she was going to give you a little initiation assignment today, she said. Howd it go?Mom, it was so hilarious, Bethany answered for Lauren. Lauren had to walk and cluck like a chicken until I said she could stop.; Title: Twice As Nice #4 (Almost Identical) | [
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19,061 | 2 | Grosset & Dunlap creates high-quality books for young readers of any level. Focused on books for ages 012, Grosset offers a wide range of original fiction series, nonfiction titles, leveled readers, and licensed tie-ins to captivate every reader.; Title: Max and the Easter Egg Hunt (Max and Ruby) | [
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19,062 | 15 | Megan Stine is the author of many books for young girls, from books about TV celebrities to historical fiction and biographies.; Title: Who Was Sally Ride? | [
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19,063 | 0 | Sir Steve Stevenson is an Italian writer who spent many years writing for Italian gaming magazines. Currently, he is focused on writing novels for young readers. He lives in Italy.; Title: The Heist at Niagara Falls #4 (Agatha: Girl of Mystery) | [
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19,064 | 2 | Kate McMullan is the award-winning author of more than seventy-five books for children. She lives in Sag Harbor, New York.R. W. Alley has illustrated more than sixty children's books. He lives in Barrington, Rhode Island.; Title: Pearl and Wagner: Three Secrets | [
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19,065 | 2 | Jacky Davis and David Soman (www.ladybuggirl.com) are a husband-and-wife team, and the Ladybug Girl books are inspired by their daughter and son.; Title: Who Can Play? (Ladybug Girl) | [
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19,066 | 2 | Veera Hiranandani has an MFA in Fiction Writing from Sarah Lawrence College, spent six years as a book editor, and is the author of the middle grade novel The Whole Story of Half a Girlas well as the chapter book series, Phoebe G. Green. She is the proud mom of two emerging foodies who even like to eat their vegetables (most of the time).She lives with her husband and children in New York. Visit her at www.veerahiranandani.com and follow her on Twitter @VeeraHira.Joelle Dreidemy studied art at the Emile Cohl School in Lyon, France. She lives in Paris, France, where she creates illustrations for picture books includingThe Lamb Who Came for DinnerandSmelly Peter the Great Pea Eater, magazines, and greeting cards for publishers all over the world. Joelle also writes songs, sings, and plays bass guitar in a rock band. www.joelledreidemy.frChapter OneMy name is Phoebe G. Green, and I have a new nickname! My dad made it up. Get ready for it: Phoebe Green, The List Queen. Pretty cool, huh? Its an extra-special nickname because its actually longer than my regular name. Usually nicknames are shorter, like Pheebs. Im always making lists, so thats why my dad calls me The List Queen. Mostly I make lists about why Im so lucky, but this week I had to make an unlucky list. It was just that kind of week. Heres why: 1. I didnt do well on my spelling test last week, so my parents made me do very boring spelling flash cards. 2. For some reason, the more I do very boring spelling flash cards, the more I think about what to make for lunch. Once I thought about how artichokes and tomatoes and melty mozzarella cheese would taste in a toasty wrap. (By the way, Im a foodie, which means I like eating and cooking delicious things... a lot.) 3. Then I got a bad cold and didnt go to school for two days. My nose was so stuffed that food tasted like paper, which was the saddest thing ever. 4. Because I was sick, I missed Charlotte Hemplers birthday party, so I didnt get to eat the homemade cupcakes her mom brought us. They might have tasted like paper because of my cold, but still. Then I finally felt better. So I made a wrap and brought it to school, but it opened up while I was eating it, and I got tomato juice all over my favorite purple T-shirt. *** But then, everything changed at dinner one night. We ate yummy salmon (which is my favorite fish because it tastes very buttery even though theres no butter in it), baked potatoes, and sauted spinach (thats a fancy way of saying spinach cooked in a pan). I helped Dad make all of it because we are the official family chefs now. One of my best friends, Camille, is the reason why I like food so much. She moved to my town all the way from France and brought these beautiful French lunches to school. I loved them, even though lots of people thought they were weird. Then I became a foodie, Camille and I became best friends, and Dad and I became the family chefs. My mom never liked cooking that much, so it worked out. During dinner, I started thinking about my boring spelling cards again. Mom, I dont understand why I have spelling tests, I said. When I use the computer, it always fixes my wrong words. Phoebe, my mom said, knowing how to spell is part of learning English. But, Mom, things are different in the digital age, I said because I heard someone saying digital age on TV yesterday, and I thought it sounded cool, even though I didnt really know what it meant. Mom, Dad, and my older sister, Molly, stopped chewing their salmon and blinked at me. I guess they didnt know what it meant, either. Then Mom told us something very interesting. I spoke to Isabelle Durand today, she said as she took a bite of spinach. Isabelle Durand is Camilles mom. I also have another best friend, named Sage, who is not French at all, but he does like french fries a lot. Did Camille invite me for another playdate? I started bouncing up and down. This is even better, Mom said. February break is coming up, and you know how we normally visit Grandma Green in Miami? Yeah, yeah? I said, almost yelling. I loved going to Miami. The pool there was really warm, and everyone was so old and nice and let me play cards with them. This year, I think we might go somewhere else, she said, grinning, and now looking at Dad. Where? Molly asked. London? Mollys best friend, Maya, went to London last year, and Molly hasnt stopped talking about it. Close. The Durands invited us to France for Camilles birthday! Mom said excitedly. Camilles grandmother has a house right outside Paris where we could all stay. Its a wonderful opportunity, Dad said, smiling extra big. Paris? Molly said, and clapped her hands together. Thats even better than London! Wow, I said, letting it sink in. Does Camilles grandmother live in a really fancy French place like a castle? I asked. Im sure its very nice, Phoebe, but I dont think its a castle, Dad said. I cant wait to tell Maya! Molly exclaimed. Dad started to clean up the plates. So what do you think, Phoebe? At first I felt sad about not going to Miami, but then I thought about walking on French streets and eating all the foods Ive had at Camilles house, like goat cheese, duck, and ratatouille (its a delicious vegetable stew that Camilles dad made for us once that doesnt even have rats in it). I want to go! I said, smiling. So thats when my week started to get lucky again. Pretty cool, huh? *** The next day, I was walking to school with Sage and wanted to tell him about going to France with Camille. But I wasnt sure if hed be jealous. I also didnt want to talk to Camille about France until I told Sage. So I decided to stay away from both of them in the morning and look for things in my cubby until my teacher, Mrs.B, called morning meeting. Thats when everyone sits crisscross applesauce on the rug, and she tells us the plan for the day. We have to be very quiet, which I normally dont like, but today I didnt mind. Lunch was trickier, since Sage, Camille, and I usually sit together. So I decided to fall off the monkey bars at recess and pretend to bump my knee. Then I could eat lunch in the nurses office with an ice pack. The only problem was that when I pretended to fall off the monkey bars and hurt my knee, I actually hurt my knee. After being at the nurses office, I tried to walk back to my classroom without Camille and Sage seeing me, but just as I was going around the corner, our whole class came in from recess. I tried to rush ahead, but I was limping because my knee still hurt. Camille and Sage caught up with me. Phoebe, is something wrong? Camille asked, blinking her long eyelashes. Yeah, all morning youve acted like you dont want to talk to us, Sage said, and looked me right in the eye, which makes me very nervous. Guys, nothings wrong. I just Then I put my hand over my mouth. What? they both said at the same time. Sage nicely took my hand away from my mouth. Sage, Im going to France with Camilles family in February. Camille, I didnt want to talk about it with you until I told Sage, I said loudly. Then I swallowed. Thats all. You are? Sage said. I nodded. Oh! Camille said, clasping her hands together. So that means youre definitely coming? Yeah! My dad said its a wonderful opportunity! I stood up tall. Why didnt you want to tell me? Sage asked. I thought for a second. Because I was afraid youd be jealous. Arent you? Sage looked up and thought for a moment. I guess a little, he said. Not a lot? I asked, starting to feel a bit mad. But I dont want anyone to be jealous, Camille interrupted in her French movie-star way. Maybe you could come, too, Sage. I jumped up and down and clapped my hands. Going to a whole other country with Sage and Camille would be the best thing thats ever happened in the whole history of everything! Yeah! Sage said, and started jumping, too. Oh, but wait, he said. We stopped jumping. We always visit my cousins and go skiing over the winter break. He looked down. Oh, too bad, Camille said with her head down. Now I am really jealous, Sage said. I smiled. Maybe we could be jealous of your ski trip, too, Camille suggested, looking more cheerful. Thats a perfect idea! I said. I didnt even know Camille could have perfect ideas like that. So we all agreed to be jealous and that way no one got left out. Im lucky to have such great best friends.; Title: A Passport to Pastries #3 (Phoebe G. Green) | [
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19,067 | 2 | Sue Bentley lives in England. Angela Swan lives in northeast England. Andrew Farley lives in the South of England.; Title: Friendship Forever #10 (Magic Puppy) | [
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19,068 | 2 | Amy Acklesberg is the author of many books for children.; Title: Fun in the Sun (Strawberry Shortcake) | [
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19,069 | 2 | Sue Bentley is the author of the best-selling sensations the Magic Kitten, Magic Puppy, Magic Ponies, and Magic Bunnyseries.; Title: Pony Camp #8 (Magic Ponies) | [
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19,070 | 18 | Patricia Brennan Demuth has written many books for children, including Johnny Appleseed, and Snakes.; Title: Who Was Laura Ingalls Wilder? | [
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19,071 | 15 | Bonnie Bader has authored several Who Was...? biographies, including Who Was Christopher Columbus?; Title: Who Was Alexander Graham Bell? | [
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19,072 | 2 | Gr 46Sixth-grader Jake Mathews's popularity has gone from a rank of 10 to a low of three, when he is forced to move from Flordia to Maryland. Jake's "Awesomeness" is put to the test in his new town as he struggles to make friends and fit in; resulting in his previously unshakeable confidence beginning to crumble. Marcionette, a sixth grader himself, creates a humorous character who takes readers on an enjoyable journey as he triumphs over a bully, fights with his explosive older sister, attempts to climb back to the top of the social ladder, and finds a group of friends he calls the "misfit toys". At times, Jake's arrogance can be overwhelming, but readers will see through it and realize it is simply a yearning to be accepted. Just Jake is filled with doodles, cut out photos, rules of Awesomeness, and clever "Kid Cards." Fans of Jeff Kinney's "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" (Abrams) and Rachel Rene Russell's "Dork Diaries"(S & S) will enjoy this title.Megan McGinnis, Sachem Public Library, Holbrook, NYJake Marcionette is in sixth grade, and lives in Maryland with his parents and sister. His favorite sport is lacrosse. JUST JAKE is his first book.; Title: Just Jake #1 | [
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19,073 | 0 | Sue Bentley lives in England. Angela Swan lives in northeast England. Andrew Farley lives in the South of England.; Title: Circus Surprise #7 (Magic Ponies) | [
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19,074 | 2 | Sue Bentley lives in England. Angela Swan lives in northeast England. Andrew Farley lives in the South of England.; Title: Starry Sticker and Activity Book (Magic Kitten) | [
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19,075 | 2 | Natasha Wing was born in Milford, Connecticut and now lives in Fort Collins, Colorado. After graduating from Arizona State University she married Daniel Wing and worked in advertising for a number of years. It wasn't until 1991 that she decided to write children's books. Luckily she sold her first book within six months and has been writing children's books and articles ever since.; Title: Night Before Kindergarten Gift Set (The Night Before) | [
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19,076 | 2 | Alexis Andrews lives in Brooklyn, New York. She has written several other Level 1 readers, includingAt the BeachandOn A Farm.; Title: In the Forest (Penguin Young Readers, Level 1) | [
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19,077 | 2 | Sue Bentley lives in England. Angela Swan lives in northeast England. Andrew Farley lives in the South of England.; Title: Snowy Wishes (Magic Puppy) | [
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19,078 | 2 | Ann Hood is the author of the middle grade novel How I Save My Father's Life (and Ruined Everything Else), and has written several adult novels, including The Obituary Writer,An Orinthologist's Guide to Life, The Knitting Circle, Comfort, and The Red Thread. Her work has appeared in the The Paris Review, O, and elsewhere.Chapter OneGreat-Uncle Thorne smiled at Maisie and Felix, his blue eyes twinkling in a way they had never seen before. He actually looked, Maisie realized with surprise, happy.My only regret, Great-Uncle Thorne said, is that I cannot go with you.Go? Felix asked, immediately anxious. Go where?Great-Uncle Thornes smile widened.Why, to Imperial Russia, he said, surprising Maisie once again. Ordinarily, he would have called Felix a dolt for not figuring out what always seemed so obvious to Great-Uncle Thorne, and so not obvious to Maisie and her brother.Is that different from regular Russia? Hadley asked.The Ziff twins, having delivered the message from Amy Pickworth, still sat together on the love seat, waiting for further instructions.Great-Uncle Thorne shook his head sadly.What has happened to education? he asked, his gaze sweeping up to the ceiling as if he might find an answer there. My sister and I were taught right here at Elm Medona by brilliant tutors. Latin. French. The classics. And, of course, history.He chuckled, still staring at the ceiling and its twinkling white lights.Our history teacher was a Yale man, Mr. Franklin Smith. Of course, he let Maisie and me call him Smitty. Got a kick out of that, actually. Smitty appeared every morning at eleven, vaguely disheveled but always with his Yale tie and a straw boater.A straw boat? Maisie asked, but Great-Uncle Thorne ignored her.Up to the Map Room hed march usThe Map Room? Maisie interrupted.She had poked in every corner of Elm Medona. Shed opened closets and stepped inside. Shed stood in many of the rooms that never got used and whose names no one seemed to know. Of course shed been surprised by the Fairy Room, but it was secret, hidden.Theres no Map Room in Elm Medona, Maisie said certainly.Now Great-Uncle Thorne frowned at her.Of course theres a Map Room. And you and your coterie should obviously spend some time in it. If you did, you would know that Imperial Russia was so enormous that when it was night in the west, it was dawn on the Pacific. And that the land that stretched between made up one-sixth of all the land in the world. And that land was ruled by one man. The Tsar of Imperial Russia.Show us, Felix said, his mind already trying to conjure such an immense country. Take us to the Map Room and show us.Great-Uncle Thorne considered Felixs request. The children, their eyes on him, waited hopefully.I suppose if youre going there, you should understand a bit about what youre getting into, he said thoughtfully.Getting into? Felix repeated. You mean its dangerous there?Great-Uncle Thorne shrugged.Actually, Maisie and I never had the pleasure of visiting Imperial Russia. It is the one place that our father warned us against. Of course, Im sure that was because of what happened there in 1918...He paused.If we couldnt get back here and got stuck with the family...He paused again.Maisie and Felix sneaked a glance at each other.Not to worry! Great-Uncle Thorne said finally, with too much bravado. Youll get back without a hitch. Why wouldnt you?Why wouldnt we? Maisie asked. Why did Phinneas Pickworth fear you and Great-Aunt Maisie wouldnt be able to return?Great-Uncle Thornes face softened. I believe it was just the love of a father for his children, he said softly.Before Maisie could question Great-Uncle Thorne further, her mothers voice interrupted.What is this? she said, stepping into the Fairy Room, awestruck.She bent and touched the grass that covered the floor.Why, this grass is real! she declared.Her eyes tried to take it all in: the walls covered with ivy and pink and blue morning glories, the angel hair and twinkling lights on the ceiling.Jennifer, Great-Uncle Thorne said firmly, this was my mothers most private place. Its not for... general consumption.But who tends all these flowers and grass?Theres a special employee of Elm Medona whose sole purpose is to maintain this room, Great-Uncle Thorne answered. But you have to leave it, Im afraid. As I said, itsYes, their mother replied, not for general consumption. But then why are the children in here? And the Ziff twins?No one had an answer.Quiet fell over the Fairy Room.Maisie and Felixs mother let out a big sigh. Sometimes, she said, I feel like something strange is going on around here.It is, Great-Uncle Thorne said. Your children frequently time travel and meet famous people when those people were children.Maisie and Felix both gasped.But their mother laughed. Hard. Thats a good one, she said.She wiped the corners of her eyes, shaking her head. Maybe Ill go along with you next time, she added.Sorry, Great-Uncle Thorne said. You have to be a twin.Oh! I see! Her eyes settled on the Ziff twins. Well, then, take Hadley and Rayne along with you!The children all forced a laugh.If she only knew, Felix thought as his mother told them breakfast was ready and they needed to get ready for school. If she only knew.Maisie had thought that landing the lead in The Crucible would skyrocket her into popularity. But nothing seemed to change. Instead, Hadley remained her only friend. Unless she counted Jim Duncan, who was really Felixs friend but at least seemed to like her, too.But today, even Hadley seemed to be ignoring her. Maybe Great-Uncle Thorne and Imperial Russia had upset her. Maybe Hadley didnt want anything to do with The Treasure Chest and fancy Faberg eggs made by the Imperial jeweler for the Tsar. Or, Maisie thought as she unsuccessfully tried to get Hadleys attention during social studies, maybe Hadley didnt want anything more to do with her.Entire countries have vanished, Mrs. Witherspoon was saying. Through war or independence or colonization or crumbling governments, borders shift. Names change. Rulers get deposed.She pulled down one of the maps that hung over the blackboard.Abyssinia, for example, Mrs. Witherspoon said, pointing to somewhere in Africa. Abyssinia was an empire for more than eight hundred years, an empire that spanned present-day Ethiopia, Eritrea, Djibouti, parts of northern Somalia, southern Egypt, eastern Sudan...Her long pointer tapped each area on the map as she spoke. Tap. Tap. Tap.Maisie willed Hadley to turn around so she could roll her eyes and make her laugh. But Hadley appeared to be completely engrossed in Abyssinia.In 1974, the monarchy was overthrown in a coup dtat, Mrs. Witherspoon continued, and Abyssinia ceased to exist.Mrs. Witherspoon went on talking about Rhodesia and the Belgian Congo. She pulled down another map, this one of Europe, and tapped and pointed and talked about Austria-Hungary and East Germany, but all Maisie could think about was why Hadley Ziff was ignoring her.More maps, more pointing. Ceylon and Persia and Siam.Maisie ripped a piece of notebook paper from her social studies notebook and rolled it into a tight ball.She narrowed her eyes for better aim and lobbed the ball at the back of Hadleys head.A direct hit!Hadleys hand shot up and retrieved the paper from where it landed between her back and her chair. But she did not turn around.Mrs. Witherspoon kept talking about overthrown monarchies and revolutions.Maisie tore another sheet of paper from her notebook. This time she wrote a note on it: A be sinny ya at lunch!A clever pun, Maisie decided. Taking the word Abyssinia and making it sound like Ill be seeing ya! Surely Hadley would appreciate that.Maisie folded the note into a little paper airplane and sent it flying so that it would land somewhere near Hadleys feet.Bulls-eye!Instead of picking it up, Hadley twisted her head around and glared at Maisie.Maisie began reviewing the morning in the Fairy Room. What had she done to make Hadley angry with her? Hadley and Rayne had not taken her mothers invitation to stay for breakfast. Was that another clue? Theyd given a good reason, telling everyone that their parents were waiting for them at the Kozy Kitchen for a family breakfast. Had that just been an excuse?Do tell us all where you are, Miss Robbins, Mrs. Witherspoon said, her voice interrupting Maisies thoughts.Um, Maisie said, squinting at the map. What had she missed? What was Mrs. Witherspoon talking about now?Can someone tell Maisie what our reports are on? Mrs. Witherspoon asked the class. Hadley?Reluctantly, Hadley stood. Even though she turned toward Maisie, her eyes stayed on the scratched linoleum floor.A country thats disappeared? she said.And? Mrs. Witherspoon prompted.And what it was like before and what happened and what country it is now, Hadley finished and sat right back down.Did you get all that, Maisie? Mrs. Witherspoon asked.Maisie stared hard at Hadleys back, at her tangle of dark hair.Maisie! Mrs. Witherspoon said.Maisie looked at Mrs. Witherspoon, and then at the map hanging in front of the blackboard.I already know what Im doing my report on, she said.Oh, do you? Mrs. Witherspoon said, peering at Maisie over the top of her glasses.Imperial Russia, Maisie said.At that, Hadley did turn around.Maisie grinned. Imperial Russia was so enormous, she said, that when it was night in the west, it was dawn on the Pacific. And the land that stretched between made up one-sixth of all the land in the world. And that land was ruled by one man. The Tsar.Mrs. Witherspoon looked impressed.Hadley looked upset.Well, Mrs. Witherspoon said, I had no idea you were interested in Russian history.Oh yes, Maisie said. Id even like to go there sometime.Hadley turned back around and dropped her head.What is wrong with Hadley? Maisie wondered.I look forward to your report, Mrs. Witherspoon said.But Maisie wasnt listening anymore. Instead, she was plotting how to make sure Hadley didnt get away when the lunch bell rang. Hadley wasnt angry with her, Maisie realized; she was upset about The Treasure Chest.The bell rang, and even though Maisie was waiting, ready to leap out of her seat and get to Hadley, she was stopped by Alex Andropov, arguably the smartest kid at Anne Hutchinson Elementary School.Maisie, Alex said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. They slid right back down to the tip. I had no idea.How could it be that some kidslike Felixlooked cool in glasses, Maisie wondered, and other kidslike Alex Andropovlooked nerdy? The fact that Alex cut his hair too short for his round face and often wore white shirts with puffy sleeves that he insisted were called poets shirts didnt help. Plus, he was skinny and pale and often was absent for weeks at a time. Although to some kids this made him mysterious and provoked speculation that he was the son of a billionaire and traveled the world with his father, to Maisie his absences just made her forget him until he showed up in class again.Maisie peered over his head and watched Hadley approach the exit door.No idea about what? Maisie asked impatiently. She wanted to push past him, but he had positioned himself in such a way that he had her trapped.Your interest in the Russian Empire! Alex said.Huh? Oh right. Imperial Russia.She craned her neck. Hadley was gone.Im Russian, Alex was saying proudly. And Im a direct descendant of the Romanovs.Maisie frowned. Who?She moved forward, even though it meant wedging herself between Alex and her desk.Alexs face fell with disappointment. How can you be a student of Imperial Russia and not know the Romanovs?Im a new student, Maisie said. Alex, can we talk about this later? I have to go.With that his face brightened again.Today? After school?Sure, Maisie said, and worked her way free of Alex Andropov.The classroom had emptied out. Even Mrs. Witherspoon was gone. Maisie picked up her pace and hurried down the corridor to the lunchroom.As soon as Maisie walked in the noisy, crowded room, the smell of Taco Day hit her. It looked like the entire school was lined up at the taco bar, piling ground beef, bright orange shredded cheese, chopped tomatoes, and ribbons of tired lettuce into taco shells.Everyone except Felix, Rayne, and Hadley.They sat at a table, leaning in close to one another. And Hadley and Rayne were both crying.Whats going on? Maisie said after she pushed her way through the lines at the taco bar to get to them.She didnt wait for an answer.Ive been trying to get your attention all morning, she told Hadley.I know, Hadley said, sniffling. I couldnt tell you in class.Tell me what? Maisie demanded, her frustration growing even more.Were moving, Rayne said, also sniffling. To Buenos Aires.But you cant! Maisie said. Youre my best friend, she said, again to Hadley. She could have added my only friend and it would have been true.Youre my best friend, Hadley said.And now we wont get to find out what happens in Russia, Rayne said.Of course you can, Felix jumped in. Well go to The Treasure Chest right after school.Hadley and Rayne shook their heads.A car is picking us up at three oclock and taking us directly to the airport, Rayne said.Thats how it works when your fathers in the CIA, Hadley added. We never get a heads-up on where or when were going next.Maisie couldnt do anything to stop it, she realized. She put her arm around Hadleys shoulders and bent her tangled dirty-blond hair until it touched Hadleys dark curly hair. They were opposites of each other physically. But inside... Inside they were like twins. Maisie got a whiff of her friends mint shampoo. Then she started to cry, too.Chapter TwoMaisie and Felix stood outside on the steps of Anne Hutchinson Elementary School and watched as a big black sedan took Hadley and Rayne Ziff away from them.Behind them, the door burst open, but neither of them turned around.There you are! someone shouted.Felix glanced up.Hi, Alex, he said glumly.Alex stood beside Maisie and peered in the same direction where her eyes were focused.The big black sedan was just a tiny dot down the road.How about coming to my house? Alex asked. I can show you some really cool stuff from Russia.Can I take a rain check? Maisie asked as the tiny dot disappeared from sight.I guess, Alex said sadly.Ill come tomorrow, Maisie said. What was he all sad about? She was the one who had just lost her best friend.Dont you have Crucible rehearsals tomorrow? Felix reminded her.The next day, then, Maisie said. The report isnt even due for two weeks.Its just that I called my grandmother and told her you were coming, and shes making pirozhki.I dont know what that is, Maisie mumbled, wondering how she had gotten herself into this predicament in the first place.And blini, Alex continued. He added, Traditional food of Russia.Maisie sighed.Youre Russian? Felix asked politely.Alex nodded. Im a direct descendant of the Romanovs.And theyre... famous Russians? Felix asked.The royal family! Alex said.Like the Tsar? Felix asked.When Alex nodded, Felix grinned.Maisie, Felix said, I think it would be a good idea for both of us to go to Alexs house today.Maisie glowered at her brother. All she wanted to do was go home, climb into bed, and feel bad.In case we ever, you know, Felix said, staring at her hard, go to Russia.Maisie could practically hear Great-Uncle Thorne reprimanding them for being unprepared, for using The Treasure Chest all willy-nilly. This time, it seemed very important to actually be prepared. Hadnt Great-Uncle Thorne said Phinneas Pickworth wouldnt even allow him and Great-Aunt Maisie to go to Imperial Russia? Hadnt he said it was unsafe?Felix and Alex were both waiting for her to say something.Why are we just standing here? Maisie asked them. Lets go!Alex Andropov lived in a dark red Colonial house on Spring Street with a plaque beside the front door that read:THE LLOYD EDWARD HOUSEBUILT 1792Wow! Felix said. Your house is really old.But Alex waved his hand as if that didnt interest him.This whole street is full of houses built during the Colonial days, he said. Down there, the White Horse Tavern is even older; 16-something.Maisie and Felix stole a glance at each other. They were impressed. But clearly Alex wasnt. He jiggled a large key in the lock of the blue front door until it finally slipped into place. Then he turned it, and the door creaked open.Tsarist Russia goes back to 1533, Alex said as he stepped inside and motioned for Maisie and Felix to follow. But Russia goes back to around 862.They were standing in a small foyer with an umbrella stand filled with umbrellas, and a steep crooked stairway. On either side of the foyer there was a pale green door open to a room.Felix wrinkled his nose. The house smelled strongly of cabbage.But Alex smiled. I smell pirozhki.Great, Felix said, trying his best to sound enthusiastic.Alex wasnt taking note of either of them. Instead he bounded into the room at the right, calling, Babushka!Maisie and Felix followed him. The room had heavy maroon drapes tied with thick gold braided rope that ended in fat tassels, and a thick Oriental rug over wide floorboards. The furniture looked too big for the small room, and they had to squeeze past some of it to keep up with Alex, who hadnt even paused. He continued through the next room, which was only slightly larger but also full of oversize furniture. A long dining-room table dominated the room, and a dozen throne-like chairs crowded around it. Maisie paused to study the walls, which were painted with a mural that depicted life in a foreign country, probably long ago.When Alex realized she wasnt behind him, he peered around the corner.; Title: Anastasia Romanov: the Last Grand Duchess #10 (The Treasure Chest) | [
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19,079 | 0 | Sue Bentley is the author of the best-selling sensations the Magic Kitten, Magic Puppy, Magic Ponies, and Magic Bunnyseries.; Title: Sparkling Skates #13 (Magic Puppy) | [
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19,080 | 6 | Activision Publishing, Inc. was founded in 1979 as the first independent video game software developer and distributor. Today, the company is a leading worldwide developer, publisher and distributor of interactive entertainment and leisure products for a variety of platforms.; Title: Skylanders Giants: Master Eon's Official Guide (Skylanders Universe) | [
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19,081 | 2 | Dori Hillestad Butler's books have appeared on children's choice award lists in 18 different states. Trading Places with Tank Talbott won the Maryland Children's Choice Award in 2007. And The Buddy Files: Case of the Lost Boy won the 2011 Edgar Award for Best Juvenile Mystery. Dori has also been a ghostwriter for the Sweet Valley Twins, Unicorn Club, and Boxcar Children series, and a children's book reviewer for several publications. She's published numerous short stories, plays, and educational materials, and has served as the Iowa Society of Children's Book Writers & Illustrators' Regional Advisor. She grew up in southern Minnesota and now lives in Coralville, Iowa, with her husband, son, dog, and cat. She visits schools and leads writing workshops all over the country.GHOSTLY GLOSSARYEXPANDWhen ghosts make themselves largerGLOWWhat ghosts do so humans can see themHAUNTWhere ghosts livePASS THROUGHWhen ghosts travel through walls, doors, and other solid objectsSHRINKWhen ghosts make themselves smallerSKIZZYWhen ghosts feel sick to their stomachsSOLIDSWhat ghosts call humans, animals, and objects they cant see throughSPEWWhat comes out when ghosts throw upSWIMWhen ghosts move freely through the airWAILWhat ghosts do so humans can hear themWhats the matter, Kaz? Claire asked as she shook the dice in her hand. You look so sad.Kaz was sad. He and Claire were playing a dice game in the craft room. Claire rolled the dice for both of them. Kaz couldnt help noticing that Claire always seemed to roll better for herself than she did for him.But that wasnt why Kaz was sad. He was sad because it had been three weeks since hed lost his haunt. And three weeks since hed seen his mom, his dad, his brother Little John, or his dog, Cosmo.It had been even longer than that since hed seen his brother Finn, or his grandparents.Mom and Dad always said that maybe one day Finn, Grandmom, and Grandpop would find their way back to their old haunt. But Kaz knew that would never happen now.Their haunt was gone. And his entire family was gone, too. The wind had carried Kaz over fields . . . houses . . . trees . . . and into Claires library. Kaz had no idea what had happened to the rest of his family. Or if hed ever see them again.Are you thinking about your family? Claire asked.Sort of, Kaz admitted.Claire was a solid, but she wasnt like other solids. She could see ghosts when they werent glowing. And she could hear ghosts when they werent wailing.Kaz was a ghost, but he wasnt like other ghosts. He couldnt glow. He couldnt wail. And he didnt like to pass through solid objects.Dont worry, Kaz, Claire said. Well find your family. Thats why we started our detective agency, remember?Beckett snickered. He was the other ghost who lived at the library. Beckett spent most of his time in his secret room behind the bookcase in the craft room. But sometimes he came out to read library books.What? Claire narrowed her eyes at Beckett. What are you laughing at?Nothing, Beckett said, turning a page in a book. If you want to call yourselves detectives, it isnt any of my business. But youve only solved one case, and it wasnt even a hard one.It was, too! Claire argued.Kaz had to agree. He had thought he and Claire would never figure out who, or what, was haunting the library.If you say so, Beckett said. But let me ask you this: Whos going to hire a kid and a ghost to solve a mystery?People who have ghosts in their houses, Claire said, like it was obvious.Beckett snickered again.We wont laugh at them like grown-up detectives would, Claire said. Well go to their houses and find their ghosts. And even if those ghosts dont want to talk to me, theyll talk to Kaz. Because hes a ghost like they are.How is Kaz going to go anywhere? Beckett asked. He cant go into the Outside. Hell blow away.Kaz hadnt thought about that.But Claire shrugged like it was no big deal. Well figure something out.How will those solids Beckett began.Dont call us solids, Claire interrupted. Kaz knew Claire didnt like that word.But that didnt stop Beckett. How will those solidshe put extra emphasis on the word solids just to annoy Clairefind out about your detective agency? Will you put an ad in the newspaper? Will you hang a sign on the door? What about your parents? Do they know about your detective agency?Kaz doubted that. Claires parents thought she was too young to be a detective.What would your parents say if they knew youd started a detective agency? Beckett asked. Maybe I should show myself and tell them.You better not. Claire leaped to her feet. Why dont you go back behind your wall and leave us alone?Claire? called a voice behind them.Kaz turned to see Claires grandma, Grandma Karen. She was the librarian, and she lived above the library with Claire and Claires parents. Grandma Karen also took care of Claire when Claires parents were away solving mysteries.Who are you talking to, dear? Grandma Karen asked, patting the pink stripe in her hair.; Title: The Ghost in the Attic #2 (The Haunted Library) | [
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19,082 | 18 | Gail Herman has written several biographies, including Who Was Jackie Robinson?; Title: Who Was Davy Crockett? | [
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19,083 | 0 | Sue Bentley is the author of the best-selling sensations the Magic Kitten, Magic Puppy, Magic Ponies, and Magic Bunnyseries.; Title: Sunshine Shimmers #12 (Magic Puppy) | [
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19,084 | 0 | Sue Bentley is the author of the best-selling sensations the Magic Kitten, Magic Puppy, Magic Ponies, and Magic Bunnyseries.; Title: Firelight Friends #10 (Magic Kitten) | [
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19,085 | 2 | Sue Bentley is the author of the best-selling sensations the Magic Kitten, Magic Puppy, Magic Ponies, and Magic Bunny series.; Title: Spellbound at School #11 (Magic Puppy) | [
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19,086 | 2 | Sue Bentley lives in England. Angela Swan lives in northeast England. Andrew Farley lives in the South of England.; Title: Chocolate Wishes #1 (Magic Bunny) | [
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19,087 | 2 |  Amy Acklesberg is a writer living in Philadelphia, PA.; Title: A Day at the Apple Orchard (Strawberry Shortcake) | [
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19,088 | 18 | Pamela Pollack and Meg Belviso have co-authored several children's books, includingWho Was J.K.Rowling?andWho Was Steve Jobs?; Title: What Was the Alamo? | [
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19,089 | 2 | Illustrator Dave Aikins grew up in the suburbs of Detroit, immersed in comicbooks, action figures and B-movies. He graduated from the Columbus College of Art & Design in 1995 and worked for a large newspaper and commercial art studio before founding Let's Draw Studio, his freelance illustration studio, in 1998. Hee now lives outside Columbus, OH with his family andcontinues to produce work for clients in the areas ofadvertising, product design and publishing.; Title: Who Says? (Sassy) | [
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19,090 | 0 | Sue Bentley is the author of the best-selling sensations the Magic Kitten, Magic Puppy, Magic Ponies, and Magic Bunny series.; Title: Dancing Days #5 (Magic Bunny) | [
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19,091 | 18 | Laura Driscoll has written several books for Penguin Young Readers, including The Bravest Cat! and Apples: And How They Grow.; Title: Titanic: The Story Lives On! (Penguin Young Readers, Level 4) | [
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19,092 | 2 | Sue Bentley lives in England. Angela Swan lives in northeast England. Andrew Farley lives in the South of England.; Title: Magic Reindeer: a Christmas Wish | [
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19,093 | 2 | Veera Hiranandani has an MFA in Fiction Writing from Sarah Lawrence College, spent six years as a book editor, and is the author of the middle grade novel The Whole Story of Half a Girlas well as the chapter book series, Phoebe G. Green. She is the proud mom of two emerging foodies who even like to eat their vegetables (most of the time).She lives with her husband and children in New York. Visit her at www.veerahiranandani.com and follow her on Twitter @VeeraHira.Joelle Dreidemy studied art at the Emile Cohl School in Lyon, France. She lives in Paris, France, where she creates illustrations for picture books includingThe Lamb Who Came for DinnerandSmelly Peter the Great Pea Eater, magazines, and greeting cards for publishers all over the world. Joelle also writes songs, sings, and plays bass guitar in a rock band. www.joelledreidemy.frChapter One Did you know my middle name is Gertrude, after my great-grandma Gertrude? Thats what the G stands for. My mom told me Great-Grandma Gertrude really liked to cook and eat, which makes sense, because I do, too. I even found out Im a foodie, which is someone who loves to eat interesting foods. I dont know if they called people foodies in the very old-fashioned days, though. Great-Grandma Gertrude grew up in Russia and made things like matzo ball soup (chicken soup with yummy balls made out of matzo stuff), kasha (its sort of like rice but browner), and knishes (mashed potatoes wrapped up all comfy in dough). She even made her own pickles and kept them in a barrel in her backyard. Mom always says Great-Grandma Gertrude could cook like nobodys business. But if Great-Grandma Gertrude cooked like nobodys business, how did anyone taste her food? Sometimes things adults say make no sense to me. Actually, theres a lot that doesnt make sense to me. I like making lists, so I thought Id make a list of nonsensey things: 1. Three weeks ago, Sage (one of my best friends) decided he didnt like the hot lunch in the cafeteria because it was too boring (it is). But now he brings the same exact lunch from home every day. Isnt that even more boring? 2. Camille (my other best friend, who is from France) always wears fancy dresses. I think it might be because shes French. But then she cant hang on the monkey bars with me and Sage and that makes her sad. I dont get why she wont just wear pants.3. Mrs. B, my teacher and the best teacher ever, got new glasses that hang on a pretty chain around her neck. She used to wear her glasses a lot, but since she got the new ones Ive NEVER seen her put them on her face. Its a big mystery. I wonder if Ill ever understand these things. But back to Sage. This is what he brings to lunch every day: 1. A turkey sandwich: two pieces of turkey, two pieces of bread, and thats it. 2. A cheese stick (the really bendy kind). 3. A bag of popcorn. (Sometimes when no ones looking, he throws pieces of popcorn at somebody and then pretends he didnt. But I always see him.) 4. An apple (that he doesnt eat at all). 5. A box of juice (that he spills on his shirt every time he opens it). I think its a perfectly good lunch for one day, but not for the rest of your life. Theres just too much good food out there in the world. Yesterday at lunch while I was eating a salad I made myself (with black beans, corn, tomatoes, and cheddar cheese), and Camille was eating roast chicken with asparagus and a tiny loaf of bread with delicious cheese from a goat, I asked Sage if he was ever going to bring something different to lunch. He looked at me and blinked. Why? he said. Dont you get tired of eating the same thing every day? I asked. Why would I? Its my favorite lunch, he said. It was much worse than I thought. I know this sounds a little weird, but I just couldnt help feeling sad about all the foods he might never eat. Sage didnt like to share lunches with me or Camille, and lunchtime just wasnt as fun when Sage ate the same thing every day. After school I thought about it and thought about it, but I could only come up with the first part of a plan to help Sage. It started by wearing a dress to schoolmy lucky purple one with white and green polka dots on it. I usually only wear dresses on picture day because Mom makes me. At breakfast, everyone noticed. Whats the occasion? Dad said, drinking his coffee. Yeah, my big sister, Molly, said. Is it picture day? Thats what I was wondering, Mom said. Did I fill out the form? I dont remember seeing one. Hold all of your horses, I said, holding my fork up into the air. Thats what Dad always says when Molly or I get upset about something. Mom, Dad, and Molly looked at me. Dont worry, its part of my plan, I said, and started eating my eggs again. Oh, and what plan is that? Mom asked, the corners of her mouth smiling in a nervous way. Well, Im afraid Sage is going to eat the same boring lunch for the rest of his life and its not going to be very fun for him or me. So if I wear a dress, then he wont think its strange that I dont want to hang on the monkey bars with him at recess. That way I can talk to Camille in private about what to do, because she always wears dresses, I explained. Well, that makes total sense, Molly said, shaking her head, and went off to get her backpack. Phoebe, Dad said, putting on his jacket. Why cant Sage eat whatever lunch he likes? He can, but once a week, tops, I said and crossed my arms. Pheebs, just because you like all sorts of things doesnt mean other people have to as well, Dad said in an extra-nice way. He always does that when he wants to make sure Ill listen. Yes honey, you need to let Sage eat what he wants, Mom said, nodding at Dad. Okay, I said and smiled weakly. But deep inside my stomach where my scrambled eggs were, I didnt think it was okay. Camille would know what to do. She even liked to eat snails. I saw her do it with my own eyes when we went to France together.; Title: Cooking Club Chaos! #4 (Phoebe G. Green) | [
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19,094 | 0 | Sue Bentley is the author of the best-selling sensations the Magic Kitten, Magic Puppy, Magic Ponies, and Magic Bunnyseries.; Title: A Shimmering Splash #11 (Magic Kitten) | [
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19,095 | 2 | Mickie Matheis is a writer living in Ohio.; Title: Gymnastics Fun (Strawberry Shortcake) | [
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19,096 | 18 | Yona Zeldis McDonough (www.yonazeldismcdonough.com) is the author of Who Was Harriet Tubman? and Who Was Rosa Parks?; Title: What Was the Underground Railroad? | [
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19,097 | 2 | Grosset & Dunlap creates high-quality books for young readers of any level. Focused on books for ages 0–12, Grosset offers a wide range of original fiction series, nonfiction titles, leveled readers, and licensed tie-ins to captivate every reader.; Title: Max Goes Fishing (Max and Ruby) | [
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19,098 | 6 | Grosset & Dunlap creates high-quality books for young readers of any level. Focused on books for ages 012, Grosset offers a wide range of original fiction series, nonfiction titles, leveled readers, and licensed tie-ins to captivate every reader.; Title: Skylanders Universe Ultimate Box Set | [
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19,099 | 2 | Nancy Krulik lives in New York, New York. Aaron Blecha lives in London, England.; Title: Keep On Burpin' (George Brown, Class Clown) | [
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18998,
19031,
19058,
19230,
19232,
19235,
19326
] | Train |
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