I received this book free to facilitate this review. Affiliate links may be in this posting. Thanks for supporting my blog.
“Dragonkyn” Summary:
Marc used to think he was pretty ordinary, but he also used to think ice cream trucks didn’t sell ice cream and dragons were just fairy tales. Now he knows better. With skin that can’t be burned and strange powers he can’t explain, Marc soon discovers the truth: he is part dragon. And as he joins his fellow dragonkyn, his closest friends could quickly become his greatest enemies.
About The Author:
Nathan Smith Jones graduated from the University of Utah with a degree in English Literature. The fourth of eight children, he is the author of the Children’s book, “The Boy Who Ate America,” and several other novels and screenplays. He lives with his wife and five children in Utah.
My Thoughts:
Dragonkyn is a action packed young adult fantasy book about a kid who learns that he is part dragon. This 224 page chapter book held my attention from start to finish and is a fairly fast read. This book does not have any profanity or sex, but it does have a lot of violence.
I love the way the dragon powers manifest themselves in the main character, Marc. His transformation is incredible! I also love how the author portrays the Firespew, Erifice and the Vibe. They are thought provoking and extremely cool. I thought that it was neat that the Dragonkyn had a vast array of different powers like: telekinesis, morphing, clairvoyance, telepathy, esp, dragon armor, healing abilities, Firespew (fire breathing weaponized), Erifice (a sort of dragon mind speak with harmless fire), Vibe (a vibration within, the source of all dragon powers and connection to all Dragonkyn to all matter), etc.
The author is wonderful at the character development and capturing the essence of being a teen, even a teen that has to undergo abnormal changes and meet a whole new race of people, his people, the Dragonkyn and the tribe of Dragonkyn in his area called the Sorceron. I also love that there were some strong female characters as well. I love how the mystery unfolded. I cannot wait for the next book in the series because this one has left me with so many questions!
BUY IT
DISCLOSURE/DISCLAIMER: I received this product for free to
facilitate this review. My thoughts are mine and my family's own opinion
and have not been altered by anyone else. I did not receive any other
compensation for doing this review. Affiliate links can be found in this post. Thank you for your support of this blog!
I received this book free to facilitate this review. Affiliate links may be in this posting. Thanks for supporting my blog.
“Aspen Everlasting” Summary:
Aspen Foster thinks she’s just a normal sixteen-year-old, but when her car’s caught in a flash flood, Aspen and her sister discover the superhuman strength they never knew they had. Soon Aspen learns she’s not normal at all. She’s an Evermortal fairy, with powers beyond her wildest dreams. But the more Aspen finds out about her family’s past, the more dangerous her future becomes. This riveting fantasy is full of action, adventure, and romance. Suspenseful and exhilarating!
About The Author: Kathryn Cooper lives in the heart of Texas with her husband and four young boys. She has read and blogged about other authors’ books for years. She is excited to finally have her own book out for readers. “Aspen Everlasting” is her first novel.
My Thoughts:
Aspen Everlasting is a fast paced young adult fiction, fantasy story with action, adventure and clean romance. This eBook is very engaging and keeps you immersed from start to finish. I loved the humor and the hidden paranormal world in which the fairies live. The suspense keeps you on edge and wanting to read more to find out what will happen next. I love that there were both good and bad fairies, this aspect made it even more interesting. I love that the family relationship was realistic and that the parents were involved in the story. It was refreshing to be whisked away to another land while I read. I love this new, well written book from this new author! I can't wait to see what else she has to offer in the future.
BUY IT
DISCLOSURE/DISCLAIMER: I received this product for free to
facilitate this review. My thoughts are mine and my family's own opinion
and have not been altered by anyone else. I did not receive any other
compensation for doing this review. Affiliate links can be found in this
post. Thank you for your support of this blog!
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!
You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
***Special thanks to Brian L.Thompson for sending me a review copy.***
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Brian Thompson is a celebrated writer, educator, and former journalist. His previous works include the Christian fiction thriller The Lost Testament, inspirational adventure The Revelation Gate, and futuristic sci-fi novel The Anarchists. He and his family reside in Covington, Georgia.
After his latest fight, Jason Champion is sent to a rundown alternative school, nicknamed “Reject High.” Fine by him, except a girl named Cherish died there under strange circumstances. . .
Cherish’s only friend, Rhapsody Lowe, shows him a crystal that turns her invisible. Jason tries one on and he jumps over a city.
Their classmates, Sasha and Selby, see Jason and Rhapsody in action and receive crystals of their own. They keep a low profile until Jason discovers they are being studied by people they trust.
With eleven days until Reject High is destroyed, Jason and his friends must dodge their pursuers, solve the mystery of Cherish’s death, and save their power source from falling into the wrong hands.
The first installment in a multi-book series, Reject High combines engaging characters inside of a page-turning, breathtaking adventure.
Product Details:
List Price: $11.95
Paperback: 270 pages
Publisher: Great Nation Publishing (June 13, 2013)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0989105601
ISBN-13: 978-0989105606
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
my first mental breakdown
I watched policemen cut away the yellow crime scene tape on the five o’ clock news. It made my throat burn. They sent the memorials away to God-knows-where. I shouldn’t have been surprised at the lack of respect for the dead girl. After all, Cherish Watkins did go to an alternative school. That’s where I was headed.
My suspension won’t end until whenever that school opens back up. Sounds like an early summer vacation? Not if your stepmom takes everything fun from your room, like mine did. My video games and DVDs aren’t in their usual hiding place. Neither is my MP4 player. She must have hidden my stuff at Aunt Dee’s house under the mess.
Some parents, who were angry about the school being closed, forced an emergency board meeting. Did they think we’d start a zombie apocalypse and destroy the town? Who cares anyway? Reject High – what everyone calls the alternative school – will close for good in a month. The building will be destroyed this summer. Epic fail. Even then, I’ll probably never get back into North High, my old school. Guess I’ll drop out, since we can’t afford to move to another district.
This isn’t my first time being in trouble. Doctors don’t know exactly why, but in addition to ADHD, I have rage blackouts. I lose control, destroy things, and I hurt people. Problem is – I don’t remember anything about them. It’s one of a couple of reasons my father gave up raising me and let his ex-wife Debra take me in. He’d never admit it, but he didn’t have to.
At the risk of making me angry, Debra forced me to come with her to the special meeting. I had “an interest in the outcome,” she said. If Reject High stayed closed, my apartment jail sentence would continue until June. Otherwise, I’d be free. . .to go to back to school. Wish I’d waited a little longer to break Ryan Cain’s jaw. The school board might have just suspended me through the end of the school year. Then I wouldn’t be in this mess.
I rubbed the back of my neck and turned to my stepmother, who sat to my left. “It’s eleven days and it’s only Reject High, not jail.”
Debra shook her head, which she does when I let her down. As many times as I’ve disappointed her, she should have a serious neck problem. “That’s not a really big difference, Jason.”
Though she shouted that in my ear, I could barely hear it. People all around called us names, like “degenerates” and “multiple offenders.” After a good loud minute of that, the board chairwoman – the chick with the nameplate “B. King” – banged her little wooden hammer against the table. “One last comment,” she screamed while waving for the next person in line to step up.
Vivienne Coker moved to the center aisle. She looked like a sixty-year-old version of the mom on Friday Night Lights – graying red hair, with wrinkles all over the place and pointy boobs. She ran the city’s group home, which always had an opening. Vivienne complained about everything to anyone who’d listen. She and B. King smiled at one another.
“Ms. Coker,” said B. King with a sneer. “You have two minutes.”
“Won’t take me one, Belinda. Might as well send the worst ones to us, ‘cause if you let them stay out longer, it’ll be Armageddon.”
Fine, crime has gone up. Can she really blame that on us? As Vivienne walked back to her seat, I wanted to strangle her. But that’s why I was one of “them” to begin with. Well, so much for being “normal.”
At the front of the room, the eight men and women on the board sat in high-backed, brown leather chairs – like a semicircle of Supreme Court judges in dress clothes. At their left, a lawyer adjusted her glasses and said legal stuff no one understood. Finally, Belinda King called for a vote, and the board unanimously reopened the school. After that, they concluded the meeting and immediately hid from the media in what the lawyer called an executive session.
Debra stood. “Great. I’m officially raising a statistic.”
I’ve been called a lot of things, but that one hurt. I didn’t ask to be born different.
The next day, the school bus left us at the entrance to the school property. It had razor wire looping through the top of the fence and I smelled cigarettes and marijuana smoke. In front of the building, a maroon wooden sign said R.E.G.C.T. in white capital letters. Underneath the abbreviation, it was spelled out: Regional Education and Guidance Collective Training facility. At the top, someone had spray painted “JE” over the letter “G” to spell REJECT. Yup, this was close enough to jail, alright.
Since clear backpacks were required as a safety thing, I stuffed my MP4 player down between my books. Getting into a fight over it was not an option after Debra finally gave it back. The next thing I do wrong, it’s straight from here to someplace worse.
Allen Rush, my old principal at North High, once called me “trash that needed taking out.” No one would buy it if I told them he said it, because we were alone in his office. Who would take my word over an adult’s anyway?
On first glance, this place was nothing like North. It should have been blown up years ago. Instead of trimmed grass, it had weeds sticking up between cracks in the sidewalk. The concrete steps were broken in spots. The closer I got, the more horrible it looked. So did the students.
This kid from New York once told me to move with purpose. Doing that has helped me avoid trouble. Since I’m 5’2 ¾”, I always walked fast and stared a hole through anyone who looked at me. The potheads and the girls who Debra likes to call “garden tools” gawked back at me. I’m the weird one?
Inside the main entrance, a metal detector/pat-down line stretched along the nearby wall. Backing up against the orange bricks, I hid the contents of my book bag so no one could see my MP4. Debra had said not to take it in the first place, but she said lots of things. Without music to calm me down, I’d have only my thoughts, and thinking too much for me is a bad idea.
A cute girl – for a Goth, at least – stood next to me. Usually, girls like her wore torn up clothes and thought white and black are the world’s only colors. Not this one. She wore a blue and white spandex shirt and her bra strap peeked out on her shoulder. I’m not into pink, but it got my attention. She smelled great, like a flower garden. Her hair stuck up in randomly-gelled strands. With a better hairdo and less makeup, she’d be Penelope Cruz’s little sister kind-of-hot.
“Move,” she said to me with her eyes fixed ahead. “You’re next.”
Her voice snapped me to attention. “My fault.”
A uniformed Student Resource Officer with bushy nose hair waved for me to leave my bag on the conveyor belt and step through the metal detector. After removing my wallet, keys, cell phone, and belt, I passed through without a problem and collected my stuff.
Down the hallway a redheaded football-player shaped like a bowling ball played “keep away” with the bag of a kid around my size. I hate football and the guys that play it. After today, my MP4 and cell are staying at home.
“Won’t happen,” Goth Girl said with a playful grin.
“What ‘won’t happen’?” What was she talking about?
“You’re a virgin.”
“What?” I cleared my throat before my voice squeaked like a Yo Gabba Gabba character. There would be no saving myself from this one.
“Selby always gets to the first-timers. Just let him have his fun and try not to struggle too much.”
“No chance.” She didn’t know my reputation.
She smirked. “Good luck with that.”
Before I had a chance to react, the kid she called Selby yanked me by the neck into a nearby hallway, pulled off my backpack, and shoved me against a locker. “Freak,” he said, his lip curled. Wait – I know him! He used to go to North High and he acted like ninth graders were bugs to be crushed.
“C’mon!” The way he went through my stuff sent me into overdrive. My ears pounded, and suddenly everything in my world faded into white flashes. The blackout couldn’t have lasted too long. When I came out of it, my wrists weren’t handcuffed and nobody asked me questions I couldn’t answer. Selby groaned at my feet. He was bleeding at the mouth.
My knuckles were sore, and I didn’t notice any cameras. We were alone, so I got my backpack and ran down the hallway. Every classroom door was locked. Maybe the bathrooms? The boys’ restroom was locked, but the girls’ door gave in after I shoved it. No time for me to be squeamish. Besides, what was the worst thing I could find? Debra hand-washed her bras and hung them to dry in our shared bathroom. It couldn’t be much worse than that. I’ll just squeeze through the window and cut class. Anything’s better than facing assault charges.
Inside, I found Goth Girl applying a coat of lipstick to her already shiny black lips. “Told you,” she said, fully satisfied with herself. She continued making small ovals around her mouth while she mocked me.
The center stall, it looked like. . .no, it couldn’t be. We’re in the South Hall bathroom?
She faced me for the first time. “No one will find you in here.”
Goth Girl said it like a threat, unaware I’d hulked out. Selby might never become a dad because of me.
“I’m Rhapsody Lowe.” She acted like we weren’t standing in a former crime scene.
“Rhapsody” couldn’t be her real name. Who names her kid Rhapsody? She probably had an ugly first name, like Peggy Sue. “Whoever you are, I’m not staying in here.”
“Why not, Genius?”
“I get marked absent, my house gets called,” I shrugged. “Stepmom freaks, and I’ll be in the Black Hole with Coker by Monday. Besides, it’s a bathroom. One of us’ll have to use it, at some point.”
She snickered at my reasoning. “C’mon, stay. I’m not shy, but since you are, I won’t watch.”
“I’m serious.” Someone had removed the stall doors and never put them back up.
She crossed her arms over her chest and backed against the sink. “So am I. Your stepmom might. What makes you think the teachers care that much?” She nodded to the center stall. “They’re all here to get a check and go home. It’s Reject High. You get shipped here when nobody wants to deal with you.”
Yep, it had happened. Right there. Cherish Watkins shot herself. Small brown spots of her dried blood lined the outside of the drain grate. The ringing homeroom bell interrupted us.
“Quit worrying. You a momma’s boy, or something?”
“My mom’s dead.”
“Sorry. Chill out is all I meant.”
I shrugged my backpack down from my shoulders and went straight for my MP4. Rhapsody turned on her MP4 player and rocked out to some loud heavy metal. I blasted hip-hop and slid down to the black and white checkered floor. For a while, everything seemed okay. I closed my eyes and listened to almost every song on two different albums. An hour-and-a-half passed. We didn’t say a word to each other.
Then, in the middle of third period, I had to pee. I tried to hold it, but the more I thought about it, the more I needed to go. The first stall was closest to me. She’d have to stand on a seat and peek over the walls to see anything. I glanced all around, but didn’t see anything. Good thing I didn’t have gas. Satisfied, I kicked the toilet handle with my foot.
“Seriously?” Rhapsody shouted at me. “You suck at skipping.” When she stomped closer, I remembered my pants were still open.
“You said no one cared!” I turned around to zip up and washed my hands.
“We’ve got maybe two minutes before an SRO gets down here. Grab your crap, sit on the seat and shut up,” she growled. “Can you handle that?”
We’re screwed – the stalls don’t have doors. Who’s the genius now? “Shouldn’t we run, then?”
Tired of waiting for me, she entered the middle stall. “Alright, Captain Obvious. Get caught then.”
Soon the slow click-click sound of approaching footsteps against the hallway flooring made me do what Goth Girl said. When I squatted on the seat, I found out why Debra yells at me to lift it up at home.
Screeching hinges warned me we were no longer alone.
“Anybody in here?”
Did he really expect us to answer? I’d deny doing anything wrong, even if there was proof of me doing it. It works in court, so it might work for me here, too. Besides, someone died here. Someone would have to be really smart, or strange, to cut class here.
Click-click. He closed in – not a flashlight cop, but a Student Resource Officer with a loaded gun. He stopped, gazed at himself in the mirror and plucked a few nose hairs with his fingers.
I almost forgot not to laugh.
The guy’s name badge said S. Spivey 0344. Spivey inspected the inside of Rhapsody’s stall, the empty one at the end, and then mine. He stared at me, face-to-face and used his radio.
My heart settled in my throat. We’re so busted!
“Spivey here,” he said, still facing me. “All clear. They must’ve run.”
Was this guy blind or stupid? I waved my hand. Spivey stopped. Did he see me after all? I guess not, because he closed the open window and walked away.
About a minute later, Rhapsody reappeared in front of me. “Next time, don’t flush.”
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!
You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
***Special thanks to Candace Little for sending me a review copy.***
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Candace Christine Little has a B.A. from Dallas Christian College and a J.D. from Regent University School of Law, and she has completed a writing course offered by the Institute of Children’s Literature. She has written four novels: The Pursuit of a King (A Tale of Wisdom), The Heart of a King (A Tale of Faith), The Honor of a King (A Tale of Mercy), and The Son of a King (A Tale of Love). Candace believes in the power of stories to nourish, to teach, and to inspire, and she is passionately committed to happy endings.
A dream. A king. A riddle. A map. A journey. A dungeon (or two). A decision. A sacrifice. A sword. A throne. The Pursuit of a King (A Tale of Wisdom) by Candace Christine Little recounts the adventures of Artemerio and Barto as they cross deserts, climb canyon walls, face the evil Dunley, rescue Lady Wisdom, save cities from certain destruction (using only cake!)—and discover their destinies.
“How did we get here?” I asked in awe as I walked with my brother, Artemerio, through the halls of the palace of the king of Windsal.
“We walked,” said Artemerio.
“I suppose I should have known better than to expect a serious answer from you. You know what I mean. To think of it—we were summoned by the king to present our request. You must admit, if we get no farther than this palace, we will have lived what some have only dreamed.”
“You think too small, Barto. We may go down in history as the mightiest of men, and we may see palaces greater by far than—”
The echoes of our footsteps through the marble-floored hallways slowed. Confronted by the greatness of what were merely the doors of the throne room, Artemerio’s words sounded vain and absurd.
Even he must have felt it. He stared at the door for a long moment, a hint of nervousness in his expression. But then he lifted his chin and straightened to his full height. His self-assured smile returned. “Here we go.” He took hold of the massive door before him and led the way in to see the king.
I swallowed hard and followed.
I cannot adequately describe the splendor of that room—the fine marble, the exquisite touches of gold and jewels, the ornate thrones, the gleaming tapestries, the stately columns. And crowning it all were the king and queen, noble and glorious. Though they had seen many, many years, those years had enhanced rather than diminished their appearances. The beauty and elegance of Queen Athalia were beyond compare. So imposing were King Syroton’s stature and deportment that I feared for any man who might face him in battle.
But the splendor was not limited to what was visible. Magnificence pervaded the air itself with a spectacular, inspiriting weight: the weight of goodness, of wisdom, of courage—of virtues so solid and real that they seemed not only tangible but transferable, like a richly scented oil that leaves traces of its fragrance on those who encounter it.
And I have no doubt Artemerio sensed it, too. When he offered the traditional courteous phrases due a king, his voice was shaky. Gone was the insincere ease with which he typically addressed those in authority. But even humbled, he was eloquent and bold.
I mumbled my greeting and made my bow, and then, with the formalities out of the way, Artemerio began to present our request.
“Good king,” said Artemerio, “it has been our desire for some time to advance the cause of Windsal—to bring her greater honor, to improve her economy, and to multiply her lands. This can best be done through exploration and conquest. We appeal to you for the right to sail in the name of Windsal to discover for her what will be hers and hers alone, waiving all rights to establish our own lands. We appeal to you, for the love of Windsal, the right to leave her—”
A jester nimbly tumbled into the room, interrupting Artemerio’s speech. “And in this way to improve her? Hah! I am sure she will improve the moment you set sail and leave her shores!” The jester brushed away a nonexistent speck of dust on his sleeve, adjusted the bells on his hat, and sat on an unimpressive wooden stool beside the king.
Artemerio’s jaw tightened. He clenched his fists and pursed his lips. I thought—and desperately hoped—he might dismiss the provocation. But then his nostrils flared, and he breathed in sharply.
“Sail with me, then, and let us triple her improvement. Better yet, never return, and she shall stand in a glory she has never known.” Artemerio’s proud look dared the jester to respond.
“Gentlemen,” I have something to say,” said King Syroton. “Does it interest you at all?”
Having lost the reverential attitude he had had during his earlier speeches, Artemerio resorted to the superficial fawning at which he excelled. “A thousand apologies, King Syroton. Speak your will, and we will make it so.” He bowed deeply.
“A thousand apologies are not necessary, Artemerio, if one apology is sincere,” said the king. “I have not summoned you here only to hear your request. I have summoned you to have you solve a riddle for me. I understand that you and the very silent Barto already have all that you need to sail, but here is my offer: If you will solve this riddle for me, I will give you one of my own ships for your adventures.”
Artemerio and I needed no time to discuss our answer. The offer of the king’s ship was too generous to refuse.
“Yes—of course, Your Majesty,” said Artemerio.
“Very well. Here is the riddle.” The king began to recite:
“My value is priceless, though I can’t be bought.
I call out to all, though I must be sought.
I help men write laws, and I help rulers reign.
I turn all from waywardness, suffering, and pain.
Pursue me and choose me, whatever the cost—
Without me, the greatest of men would be lost.
Who am I? What do all good kings pursue?”
King Syroton paused after he finished the recitation. A somber look stole over him. “When you return to me, you will be changed men—greatly changed. The dangers to you are more than you can guess. This is no small task. The fate of this kingdom rests on your shoulders. I can reveal no more to you than this. But take heart. I know you will return. And now the jester will explain to you how you are to begin your quest and where you are to go. Jester, proceed.”
“Yes, sir.” The jester jumped up from his seat and bowed sharply and quickly toward the king. Then he turned to us.
The faintest flash of a grimace crossed Artemerio’s face.
The jester stared at him and smiled, as if he had seen the grimace and found it amusing. “Let those humble enough to follow and take orders from a mere jester follow me.”
I took a few steps following after the jester but then turned back. “Your Majesty, we thank you for this opportunity.” I bowed, and in doing so, I caught sight of the Windsalian insignia carved into the base of the throne platform. I gasped. Under the insignia were words that had been part of a strange dream I had had two nights before:
Secured not by a noble birth,
By soldiers’ strength, or mighty works.
Secured by virtues daily shown.
Through justice, mercy, truth—a throne.
“Is something wrong, Barto?” said the king.
“N-no, Your Majesty.” I bowed again and turned to follow the jester and Artemerio.
They were far ahead of me in the broad hallway that stretched away endlessly from the throne room, which may be why neither of them seemed to hear the whispers I heard as I left the king. But I know I heard whispers mingled with the echoes of footsteps.
“Barto, do not be afraid to speak,” a mysterious voice said again and again.
Curious, I stopped. But when a quick glance around revealed no obvious source of the whispers, I hurried on, concerned at the thought of Artemerio alone with the jester.
***
Within a week, we were ready to begin our journey. The night before we were to sail, Artemerio and I discussed our travels as we dined.
“Barto, I have no doubt that we will be sailing for the Unconquered Lands in a month or two. The greatest difficulty we will face in solving this riddle is keeping our thoughts occupied as we cross the many miles of open country. The jester marked only six cities on the map for us to visit. I have heard tales of riddles taking lifetimes to be answered, but the king is sending us on a journey that should take only a matter of weeks.”
“Perhaps—but have you not wondered why the king would make such a generous offer? What waits for us in these particular cities? And what do we know about solving riddles? We are the sons of a fisherman. We grew up in a small, unimportant village by the sea. Why would the king send us? There is more to this story than we see.”
“Oh, I forgot. You heard those whispers. ‘Speak, Barto.’” Artemerio laughed. “Perhaps there is a royal dog named Barto—and what you heard were orders given to him!” Artemerio laughed even harder and pounded on the table with glee.
“No, they were not orders given like that. The voice said, ‘Do not be afraid to—’ No. You are missing the point.”
“Which is?” Artemerio asked, one eyebrow arched dramatically and a mocking smile on his face.
I sighed. “You can be so infuriating. The point is—why us?”
Artemerio raised his cup. “To us, may our—”
“What about the dream? The words on the base of the throne were the words from that strange dream I told you about. How do you explain that? And what about the king’s words—that the fate of the kingdom is resting on our shoulders? Do you not feel a sense of destiny about this whole turn of events?”
Artemerio took a sip from his cup. “Yes, Barto. I do sense the same sort of strangeness you do. But what do you want me to do about it? Be as solemn and heavy-hearted as you? Think it strange that the king would find me worthy to be an adventurer? No. I do not know what you think we can figure out—or why we should spend any more time thinking this through. Solving riddles is a child’s game! Surely we are up to the task.” He raised his cup again. “To our destinies!”
***
We sailed to the southernmost point of Windsal aboard a swift, graceful ship called the Lady Lucinda.
“Barto! Where are you? We make landfall soon!” Artemerio called to me that morning. He barged into the cabin where I had been studying the maps—a map of my own and the map that the jester had delivered to us mere moments before we set sail. “Come!”
“Artemerio. Good. I want to show you something.” I rolled up the maps and followed him out onto the deck. “I have discovered a very curious thing—”
“As have I.” Artemerio glanced at the maps inattentively. “Well, perhaps curious is not the word for it. But regardless—I have been talking with some of the members of the crew about our plans—you know, for after this riddle is solved. From what I hear, there are riches to be made beyond what we can imagine not six months south of Blackdragon Point. Ah—perhaps the spot could be found on your map. Why do you have two?” He took one of the maps from me and began to examine it. “We could easily—”
“That can wait. And the maps are maps only of Windsal. You will not find Blackdragon Point on either of them. But look. Look there on the map. See that city there—by your thumb? Now look at this other map. Same coastline. Same rivers. Same mountains. Same paths. No city.”
“What are you trying to tell me? That one of the maps is wrong? Throw that one out, then. Now, back to what I was saying…Blackdragon Point…the Unconquered Lands…oh, yes—we could easily—”
“The map with the city is the one the jester gave us. The other map is mine. My map is a common map of the kingdom, as current as they come. I do not know what this means, but I do not think we should expect our journey to be as uneventful or as short as you seem to think it will be. And there are markings on the jester’s map that are entirely foreign to me. They could mean mountain peaks or walls—see the ones I mean—the strange marks surrounding the city that is again by your thumb? I have a feeling we should be prepared for anything.”
Just then a member of the crew called to us from across the deck. “Mr. Artemerio, Mr. Barto—we have reached the port. Will you be needing help with anything? We are to sail on as soon as you are safely deposited.”
“Crewman Beefeathers,” I said, “you may tell the crew we need no help, and we will be leaving you shortly after we dock. Thank you.”
Artemerio had turned to stare at the coastline. The jester’s map dangled loosely in the hand he had dropped to his side. “It is too late for examining your maps now, Barto. There is the port city of Sumada. We will be seeing the strange cities of the jester’s map and discovering what his enigmatic markings mean very soon.” He turned, his broad grin growing broader still. “And then—on to the Unconquered Lands.”
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!
You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
***Special thanks to Rick Roberson of The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***
SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:
Getting into a routine of reading the Bible can be challenging for anyone, but trying to keep the attention of pre-teen boys is especially difficult. So now there is a Bible especially developed for them. The NIV Boys Bible is designed with boys ages 9 to 12 in mind. Fun in-text features help boys dig deep into the Word and learn about amazing people, facts and stories of the Bible. The NIV Boys Bible will help boys grow into the young men God wants them to be. It will appeal to boys and cause them to desire to spend time in the Word with its unique features such as:
* Introductions to each book of the Bible
* Hundreds of highlighted verses worth memorizing
* What's the Big Deal?-Need-to-know biblical stories and people
* Check It Out-Interesting and fun facts about Bible times and characters
* Grossology-Gross and gory stuff they never knew was in the Bible
* Makin' It Real-Help for applying Bible stories to their everyday lives
This Bible includes the full text of the New International Version, the most popular Bible translation in the world, and 12 color tip-in pages introducing content that shows boys how they can grow to be like Jesus. Each book of the Bible has activities that make God's Word more relevant than ever. It is jam-packed with customized content and artwork that really makes the Bible stand out.
Product Details:
List Price: $27.99
Reading level: Ages 9 and up
Hardcover: 1504 pages
Publisher: Zonderkidz; Special edition (March 6, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0310723086
ISBN-13: 978-0310723080:
AND NOW...A SAMPLE. PLEASE CLICK ON THE PICTURES TO VIEW THEM LARGER:
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!
You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
***Special thanks to Rick Roberson of The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***
ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTOR:
Nancy Rue has worked as a public school teacher, church youth director, theater workshop developer and camp director. She has written more than eighty books for young people, including the beloved Faithgirlz! Sophie series, The Skin You're In and Everybody Tells Me to Be Myself but I Don't Know Who I Am. Nancy lives with her husband and two dogs in Lebanon, TN.
About Faithgirlz!: Faithgirlz! is a collection of books, Bibles and resources designed to provide transformational Christian experiences for tween girls. Faithgirlz! encourages honest tween-girl empowerment by providing engaging, relevant, high-quality offerings, helping tween girls understand their world, learn biblical teachings, become closer to God and grow into godly teenagers. Faithgirlz! offers excellent content and contributions from leading Christian tween writers and spokespeople including Nancy Rue, Melody Carlson, Kristi Holl, Naomi Kinsman and more. Faithgirlz! is also supported with a website (www.Faithgirlz.com), Facebook page and mother and daughter live events across the country.
SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:
Every girl wants to know she’s totally unique and special, and contributor Nancy Rue helps them do just that in the revised edition of the NIV Faithgirlz! Bible. As a leading tween expert, Rue teaches girls that the Bible is real and relevant and, best of all, that the story of God and His people is also their story. Girls can now grow closer to God as they discover the journey of a lifetime, in their language, for their world.
The new Faithgirlz! Bible was developed especially for girls ages 9 to 12. Everything in it is written with a tween girl’s experience in mind, and it features the most popular Bible translation in the world, the New International Version. The features explain hard-to-understand things in the Bible and guide girls to put the Scripture to work in their own lives. The Faithgirlz! Bible focuses on sharing faith with friends and gives real ways for girls to do that.
Each book of the Bible has activities that make God’s Word more relevant than ever. And, of course, because it was developed for Faithgirlz! readers, they can expect to find it jam-packed with customized content and artwork that really makes the Bible stand out. Girls will love the cool design, the interactive features and the feeling of knowing that God’s Word is there for them whenever they need it. Some of the features included are:
· Book Introductions—Girls will read the who, when, where and what of each book of the Bible.
· Dream Girl—Girls will use their imaginations to put themselves in the story.
· Is There a Little (Eve, Ruth, Isaiah) in You?—Girls will see for themselves what they have in common with women of the Bible.
· Words to Live By—Girls will discover great Bible verses for memorizing.
· Oh, I Get It!—Girls will find answers to Bible questions they’ve wondered about.
Nancy Rue says, “I hope the Faithgirlz! Bible will help girls grow a friendship with the Bible, their own relationship. It asks questions, asks them to think and challenges them to apply what they’re learning. That’s how they’ll find a deep, personal relationship with God, rather than just by following rules or saying what they’ve been told without really thinking about it. Rules are important, of course, but they only make sense when they really believe the message of the Scriptures. That’s what this Bible is about.” The Faithgirlz! Bible is the perfect Bible to support girls in their journey into the “beauty of believing.”
The main edition of the Faithgirlz! Bible is hardcover, but it is also available in two Italian Duo-Tone designs. For better portability, there is also an NIV Faithgirlz! Backpack Bible. This compact edition does not include the in-text features that the full-size edition has, but it does have twelve full-color pages of Faithgirlz! fun, the words of Christ in red and a ribbon marker. An ebook version is also planned for electronic use.
Product Details:
List Price: $27.99
Reading level: Ages 9 and up
Hardcover: 1504 pages
Publisher: Zonderkidz; Rev Spl edition (March 6, 2012)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0310722365
ISBN-13: 978-0310722366
AND NOW...A SAMPLE. PLEASE CLICK ON THE PICTURES TO VIEW THEM LARGER:
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!
You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
***Special thanks to Laura Tucker of WaterBrook Press for sending me a review copy.***
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Donita K. Paul is the author of The Dragons of Chiril, Dragons of the Valley, and the bestselling DragonKeeper Chronicles with more than a quarter of a million books in print. She enjoys cooking, beading, stamping, knitting, and her grandsons. Not necessarily in that order.
Trapped in a forgotten city, bound by secrets, Ellie and Bealomondore must enlist the dragons of the watch to find freedom.
Ellie knows exactly where she is going. She just wants to experience the pomp and circumstance of a royal wedding, then settle into a simple life with a country husband.
With too many choices, Bealomondore’s future is a tangle of possibilities. He is respected, well-known, and admired among the elite of Chiril, but Wulder demands he narrow his focus and follow his Creator, one step at a time.
Both Ellie and Bealomondore’s plans are thwarted when they find themselves lost in an isolated city. As they discern the needs of a group of wild children and a very old man, clues began to surface and a bigger picture is revealed. With the help of the dragons of the watch, can the two tumanhofers find the way out—and perhaps discover their connection to something greater than themselves?
Product Details:
List Price: $13.99 Paperback: 400 pages Publisher: WaterBrook Press (October 4, 2011) Language: English ISBN-10: 1400073413 ISBN-13: 978-1400073412
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
Invitation
Ellie sat on her favorite boulder and looked Tak right in the eyes, telling him what was on her mind. “Gramps shouldn’t have taught me to read.”
Tak responded as he usually did when he received Ellie’s confidences. He lowered his head, placing it on her knee for a rub.
Ellie obliged her pet, stroking the white hair between his nubby horns with one hand while digging in the pocket of her homespun pinafore with the other. The mountain breeze toyed with the paper she withdrew. With difficulty, she smoothed the small poster out on her other knee. Dirty and wrinkled, it still made her heart beat a little faster.
Royal Wedding and Coronation
Princess Tipper
and
Prince Jayrus, Dragonkeeper and Paladin
All invited to the celebration
“All invited. But Ellicinderpart Clarenbessipawl and her goat Tak can’t come. No chaperone, no travel. Ma and Da aren’t interested. And Gramps just laughs. ‘You’ll see. You’ll see,’ is all he says. He should take me himself.”
Her younger brother’s shrill yell came from the knoll rising out of the river to the east. “Ellie! Ellie!”
He stood on the hill, grinning like a bear with a paw in the honey hive and his face red from running. His stubby tumanhofer body bounced with excitement. He held his fists above his head and whirled them around in circles. Something had set him off.
She stood and hollered back. “You be calling me by my proper name out in the open ’n’ at the top of your lungs, Gustustharinback. Ma will tan yer hide if she’s finding out you disgrace the family with such shabby care of our dignity.”
When he saw her, he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Yer wanted at home. Itta be good news.”
That information didn’t impress her. Probably a delivery of the bolt of muslin ordered, which meant she’d be cutting and dyeing lengths for making new clothes. Not exciting news at all.
“Can it wait?” She gestured behind her to the scattered goat herd. “I’ll have to gather Tak’s clan if I’m to come home now.”
“I’ll come help you.” Gustus charged down the hill toward the footbridge across the river.
Ellie stared at him for a moment with her mouth hanging open. The good news had nothing to do with cloth. Her brother would never voluntarily help bring in the goats for something as mundane as new clothes. He scurried down the path, slipping some on the loose rocks. But the precarious descent did not slow him a bit. Even in the narrower patches, where exposed roots of arranndon bushes tripped careless hikers, her sturdy brother skidded downward.
Folding the royal celebration notice into a small square, Ellie stuffed it back in her pocket. She turned away from watching her brother’s progress and nudged the goat. “Come on, Tak. You find the nannies, and I’ll find the billies.”
Ellie went one direction and Tak another. In a few minutes, she located the fifteen goats that formed the herd. Mostly young males, these animals preferred the rockier terrain. She suspected it had to do with their perpetual game of I’m-up-highest.
She clicked her tongue and tapped her staff on a rock. Their heads rose as if all attached to the same string, though they didn’t come right away. Each one chewed what was in his mouth and casually left his place one by one. Taking a serene amble down the hillside, they passed her, heading toward the bridge and home.
When the last one clomped by, Ellie rested her staff on her shoulder and followed. Tak already had the nannies plodding along the bank toward the footbridge. Gustustharinback trailed the nannies and carried the smallest of the baby goats in his arms.
He shouted when he caught sight of his sister. “Hurry! Aunt and Uncle Blamenyellomont are at the house. I can’t tell you the surprise, and I’m gonna burst with keeping my tongue from waggin’ and you from knowin’.”
She tapped her staff on the rock beneath her feet. The billies scampered before her, picking up her impatience and gratefully heading for home. Even after eating all day, they appreciated the handfuls of button grain they got from the farmer’s younger children.
With the goat hoofs pounding on the wooden bridge, Ellie couldn’t hear or be heard. So she waited until she’d caught up with her brother on the other side.
“What’s with all the falderal, Gustus?”
She watched as he forced a glare onto his face, erasing the impudent grin he’d been wearing. “You are to call me by my proper name if I have to call you by yours.”
“There’s a difference between shouting ‘Ellie’ and speaking ‘Gustus’ quietly.” She grabbed his arm. “Now tell me, or I’ll toss you into the river.”
He pressed his lips together and gave her his most obstinate glower. The corners of his lips twitched, and she knew he wanted to laugh. She let go. She couldn’t really dunk him while he carried the small kid.
“Why are our aunt and uncle here?”
“Can’t tell you that either. But they’s only stopping, not staying. We’d better hurry.”
Ellie lost Gustustharinback’s help as soon as they came in sight of the pens. He scuttled down the last hill and opened the gate but then ran through the goat barn, across the yard, and into the house.
The herd followed the leader through the opening and took up different places to observe their world. Ellie and Gustus had put many odd things within the goat pen for the animals to climb on. Old wooden benches, barrels, a huge thick branch they had pulled with the donkey’s help, and crates littered the ground. The goats enjoyed scrambling up, over, and around the obstacles.
Tak stayed at Ellie’s side as she put water in the trough and fastened the barn door securely open so the animals could come in if they wanted. He followed her out the door on the other side of the barn and waited patiently while she latched it shut.
Entering the back door so she could wash before meeting their visitors, Ellie noticed that the kitchen showed signs of serving tea. Her mother must have prepared refreshments to carry into the common room. Through the pantry door, she could see empty spots on the shelves, which meant the good china pot and the blue glass dishes were being used.
Warm water sat in a tub in the sink, and she used that to wash her face and hands. She pulled the scarf off her head, gathered her long, curly black locks into a ponytail and used the scarf to tie it in place. Wisps of hair immediately escaped and framed her tanned face. She washed her face again as if she could rid herself of the look of a farm girl. Hopefully Aunt Tiffenbeth wouldn’t make that tired old comment: “Your blue eyes would be more attractive if you scrubbed away some of that mud you use for face cream.”
Voices from the family’s conversation drifted through the partially open door. Aunt Tiffenbeth quarreled with Ellie’s father.
“Brother, you are wrong in this. Ellicinderpart is your eldest child and way past the age to be in the village looking for a husband.”
“If there’s a man good enough for her, he can just come courting here.” Her father’s voice rumbled in the wood-paneled room, and Ellie did not even have to strain to hear him. She stepped closer to the door in order not to miss a single word her aunt spoke.
“You are the most vexing man. That is not going to happen. It isn’t the way of things, and you know it. You’re selfish and your mind is rootbound.”
Only his older sister could get away with talking like that to Ellie’s father. She probably ought to go in before the discussion escalated to verbal warfare. She finished wiping her hands and draped the towel over one of the kitchen chairs around the square table.
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!
You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
***Special thanks to Chila Woychik of Port Yonder Press for sending me a review copy.***
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Max Elliot Anderson grew up as a reluctant reader. After surveying the market, he sensed the need for action-adventures and mysteries for readers 8 and up, especially boys.
Mr. Anderson was a producer of the nationally televised PBS special, Gospel at the Symphony that was nominated for an Emmy, and won a Grammy for the double album soundtrack. He won a best cinematographer award for the film, Pilgrim’s Progress, which was the first feature film in which Liam Neeson had a staring role.
He has produced, directed, or shot over 500 national television commercials for True Value Hardware Stores. Mr. Anderson owns The Market Place, a client-based video production company for medical and industrial clients. His productions have taken him all over the world including India, New Guinea, Europe, Canada, and across the United States.
Using his extensive experience in the production of motion pictures, videos, and television commercials, Mr. Anderson brings the same visual excitement and heart-pounding action to his stories.
Each book has completely different characters, setting, and plot. Young readers have reported that reading one of Mr. Anderson’s books is like being in an exciting or scary movie.
Sam Cooper lives right near the ocean, on the Treasure Coast of Florida. All he’s ever heard about since he moved here were the fabulous treasures that have been found, and those still waiting to be discovered.
For his birthday, he received the gift of his dreams. It’s the latest, top-of-the-line, metal detector. Along with his friends, Tony, and Tyler, all are convinced that they will be the ones to dig up the next great find.
They meet a crusty sea captain named Jack. He’s fixing up an impossible looking old tub. The boys believe it’s going to be used to search for treasure at sea. They get permission from their parents to help with the restoration job in the hopes that Captain Jack will share his wealth.
When Sam’s father nearly dies, from a heart attack, the true values of life take on new importance and meaning.
What is Captain Jack’s mysterious secret? And what is he really planning to do with that boat?
Readers will gain a new appreciation for family, they will learn about the dangers of greed, and oh the stories Captain Jack can tell.
Product Details:
List Price: $9.95 Reading level: Ages 9-12 Paperback: 178 pages Publisher: Port Yonder Press (August 15, 2011) Language: English ISBN-10: 1935600141 ISBN-13: 978-1935600145
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
Catching the smugglers out on Lost Island was all that people around Harper’s Inlet could talk about for weeks. Everyone wanted to know which three brave boys had been involved. Sam, Tony, and Tyler weren’t allowed to tell anyone about the mystery. The FBI told them to keep it to themselves for their safety. They had become heroes, yet no one knew their names.
After going scuba diving, getting caught up in a terrible storm, and being stranded on Lost Island, it might seem that Sam Cooper and his friends, Tony and Tyler, would have had all the adventure any three boys could want for a summer, a year, or an entire lifetime. Only that’s not how it worked out. But then, that’s the way it is with boys. Boys are made for danger, adventure, excitement, and conquering things. And that’s exactly what these guys looked for all the time.
Chapter 1 Captain Jack’s Hopeless Boat
The storm Sam and his friends had survived wasn’t something any one of them could soon forget. Maybe they never would. So you might want to excuse Sam for what he thought one night, a couple of weeks later.
Lightning knifed across the night sky and thunder roared so loudly that Sam was sure his windows would shatter into a million pieces any second. It didn’t help much that his bedroom faced directly toward the ocean. And those silly stories about lightning coming from angels taking flash pictures, or thunder from them moving their furniture around up in heaven didn’t do him any good either. When he pulled the covers over his head his dark comforter still couldn’t keep out the bright flashes of light.
Sure glad I’m not out there on the ocean again tonight, Sam thought. Man, that’d be terrible.
Suddenly, as if he’d pushed the start button on a DVD player in his head, violent images of the storm he, Tony, and Tyler had survived, came crashing in. With each flash of light, he remembered how the mast had broken like a twig and the boat split in half while he and his friends held on to what was left.
Sam grabbed the extra pillow on his bed and held onto it for a few minutes with his eyes shut tight.
A little later, when he couldn’t sleep, Sam slipped out from the safety of his covers to get a better look at the angry storm. A huge surf crashed against the beach. He watched white caps on the pounding waves with each giant lightning bolt. The weather forecast this summer called for heavy storms in and around where he lived. The big one he and his friends had been caught out in was the first of the season.
Great, he thought. Another storm. Now we’ll have to forget our plans to go fishing in the morning.
Sam lived in Harper’s Inlet, Florida, not far from an area people call the “Treasure Coast.” “Treasure” should have been Sam’s middle name.
He and his friends had often seen people line the pier with their fishing poles dangling over the water below. Most of their time had been spent in the scuba course. Then, after the accident, their parents made them stay home. Part of the reason was to keep them away from each other, and because they’d done something so dangerous.
Sam and his friends had talked many times about how much fun it would be to go down to the pier, sit around, and do nothing all day. During all the time that Sam had to stay at home, just the idea of going outside again seemed like getting out of prison. Well, today was supposed to be their day. They had permission, Tony’s father bought the fishing licenses, and everything was set. Except now, the storm would probably change their plans. Sam climbed into bed again and somehow, even with all that racket, fell back to sleep.
“Sam, Sam, your friends are here!” his mother called from down the hall.
He sort of heard it, but the sound seemed to be coming from another world. And from the wild dreams he often had, he couldn’t be too sure. The next thing Sam knew, he became the jelly in a jam-pile sandwich on his bed. From out of nowhere Tony and Tyler jumped on top of him. Everybody knew, if Tony pounced on you, a guy wouldn’t forget it. They rolled Sam up in his covers and pushed him onto the floor.
Tyler was small for his age, but he still did his best to keep up with Sam and Tony. Tony could stand to skip a meal or two and he was never at a loss for something to say.
“Hey, you guys, cut it out!” Sam said.
“You cut it out!” Tony shouted. “We had to wake up early, get our stuff, and come over here, only to find you, king of the sleeping slugs, still in bed. Now get up.”
“But the storm.”
“What storm? Haven’t you looked outside? The sun is shining, there’s a nice breeze, and we already saw people fishing off the pier on our way over here.”
“So get moving before we drag you down there in your P J’s,” Tony threatened.
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Oh wouldn’t we?”
With that, Sam broke away, ran to the bathroom, and locked the door so he could get ready. “Go on to the kitchen. My Mom will give you something to eat. I’ll be out in a minute,” he yelled from inside the room. Tony and Tyler did as he said—and before long he joined them.
Sam’s mother had packed a delicious lunch for each of them the night before. It included peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, fruit punch, potato chips, chocolate cake, and a few surprises. Soon Sam and his friends were on their way, walking toward the pier, for a long lazy day.
Sam took a deep breath. “Sure is great to get out again.”
“I know,” Tony said. “I thought my dad would never get over us losing that catamaran.”
“Us?” Sam asked.
Tony just looked back at him.
“What are we going to use for bait?” Tyler asked.
“Nothin’, ” Sam said.
“What do you mean, nothin’?” Tony asked. “You just gonna whistle, and call ‘Here fishy, fishy, fishy’?”
“We’ll use lures that my dad gave me. They’ll look just like little fish to the big fish we’re after. I have a bunch in my tackle box. You guys can use any of them you want.”
Sam’s tackle box clanked and rattled as he walked toward the pier. Its green paint had plenty of scratches and rust from years of use. His grandfather had used the old thing first. Then he’d given it to Sam’s father. But his job as a research biologist didn’t leave much time for fishing. So he’d given the tackle box, and three rods and reels, to Sam.
The box had a black, metal handle on top, and a nearly scratched off sticker with a largemouth bass jumping out of the water on the end of a fishing line. Sam’s tackle box held extra reels, fishing line, several different lures, red and white plastic bobbers, lead weights—everything he’d need for fishing.
“Whatcha got in that box?” Tony asked.
Sam winked and said, “All I can tell you is, when it comes to fishing, if I don’t have it, we don’t need it.”
“Did I ever tell you about the last time I went fishing with my dad,” Tyler asked, “before we got divorced?”
“No, but I’m sure you’re about to,” Tony said.
“It was the funniest thing you ever saw. Well, I thought it was funny.” He blinked and jerked his head. “Anyway, we went out in this big boat with a bunch of other people. I hadn’t ever been fishing before.”
“So how’d you do?” Sam asked.
“That’s the funny part. I caught my dad...three times.”
“Ha! You must have thrown him back then ’cause I just saw him when we got rescued from Lost Island,” Tony said.
“It gets worse. I didn’t just catch him three times, but, call it beginners luck if you want to, I caught the most fish on the whole boat too!”
“How in the world did you do that?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know. All I did was drop my line in the water and bam, a fish hit my hook. I finally had to quit because I was getting so tired from pulling in all those fish.”
“You’re lyin’,” Tony said.
“Am not.”
Sam put his pole up on one shoulder. “I’ll bet that made the rest of the people feel better, you leaving a few more fish for them.”
He shook his head. “Not really. They still didn’t catch very many.”
“I can’t think of anything worse than catching your dad and the most fish,” Sam said.
“Well, it gets worse.”
“Not possible.”
“Yeah, because I got sick and threw up all over the deck.”
“Boy, I hate it when that happens,” Tony said.
“My dad hated it too. He kept on apologizing to all the people and the captain.”
“So what happened?” Sam asked.
“What happened is my dad has never invited me to go fishing again. I used to think that was one of the reasons he left us. Today is my first time fishing since that all happened.”
Sam smiled. “Promise me you aren’t going to catch any of us today, Tyler.”
“And no throwing up on the pier either,” Tony warned.
“I’ll try not to.”
By this time they were walking along the beach. They noticed several people searching in the sand with metal detectors.
“There’s a bunch of them out today. Wonder why?” Tyler asked.
“I read that it’s best to search for stuff right after a big storm like we had last night,” Sam said.
“How come?”
“Because all that wind and the waves tear up the sand and move it around so it’s easier to find things.”
“That must be right because I don’t remember seeing this many people most days.”
Sam let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, I really wish I had a metal detector.”
Tony added, “Think of all the money we could make with one of those babies.”
“We?” Sam asked.
“Well, you’d let us in on it, right?”
“I might.”
“You’d better.”
“Your dad could buy each of us one if he wanted to,” Tyler told Tony.
“Not after we lost his boat and all that scuba gear.”
Sam looked at him again. “We?”
Tony reached the pier and stepped onto its worn boards. Sam thought their footsteps sounded like the hollow booms of big base drums.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many people fishing before either,” Sam said. “Wonder if the storm stirs up the fish, too?”
“Hey, Tyler,” Tony said. “Watch out for all these people. You wouldn’t want any of them to catch you.”
Sam and his friends had to walk way out near the end of the pier until they found an open spot where all three could set up. They began the long, lazy day of fishing they’d dreamed about for so long. space The hours crept by, the shadows grew longer, and each boy caught at least one fish.
“We didn’t do so well today,” Tyler complained. “Nothing like my last time.”
“It’s okay. That’s why they call it fishin’ and not catchin’,” Sam said.
It had been a fun day, but now it was time to pack up and head for home. Living by the ocean, Sam loved the water. He knew that Tony and Tyler loved it, too. The smells from the sea, the pelicans swooping down to gobble up a fish in their big scoop-of-a-mouth, the gentle breezes, all helped Sam and his friends to relax. They saw dolphins jumping far out in the water.
They came to the end of the pier, walked along the beach for a stretch, and turned toward Dodds’ Marina. Tony pointed to an old boat near the marina that they hadn’t really thought much about before.
“Hey, you guys,” Tony said. “Have you seen that sorry excuse for a boat? Man, he’s got to be kidding. You put that thing out in the water and it’d sink for sure.”
“I saw it when we came back from Lost Island,” Sam said.
They walked over to the dock for a closer look. The boat was in bad shape and needed more than a simple coat of paint. Some of the windows were broken, and the railings were either rusted or missing. Just then, a short, heavy-set man climbed up from below. He looked almost as worn out as the deck he stood on. His tired eyes searched around as he stretched, rubbed his back, and then saw something on the dock near where the Sam and his friends stood.
In a loud voice the man called out, “Ahoy, you boys. Could one of you toss me that rope by your feet?”
Sam looked down to see a large coil of rope. “You want the whole thing or just one end?”
“The end will do.”
Sam grabbed it and walked toward the side of the boat. He handed the rope up to the man and as he did, Sam stared at his dry, cracked hands. Some of the cracks were bleeding a little.
He didn’t know what to say, so he asked, “This your boat?”
“Naw, I found it bobbing around out there in the ocean, pulled her in, and claimed her for my own.”
“Really, you did that? Whose was it?”
“Probably belonged to pirates or smugglers, I expect.”
“How could that be? I mean, it’s in pretty bad shape,” Sam said.
“I’m just kidding you, matey. I bought her off a guy that was about to sell her for scrap. I’m fixin’ her up. She’s all mine.”
“Mister,” Tyler asked, “why isn’t your boat in the water?”
“They got me in this thing called a dry dock. That’s because she needs a lot of work on the topside, and the bottom.”
“I’ll say,” Tony whispered.
“Looks like you’re all by yourself. Isn’t anyone helping you?” Sam asked.
The old man shook his head. “Nope, just me, that’s all. You wouldn’t be looking for a job, now would ya?”
“A job? What kind of a job?”
“Helping me fix up this old tub. I could use the lot of ya.”
“I don’t know,” Sam answered. “I’d have to ask my dad.”
“That’s a good idea. Why don’t you do that? If your parents say it’s okay, come on back and I’ll put you to work. I’ll pay you for your trouble too.”
“We’ll tell you tomorrow if we get permission.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll be right here. This pile of boards isn’t going any place unless a hurricane comes along. Right now that’s about the only thing that could move her from this spot,” he said, letting out a loud, long laugh. The boys could still hear it as they walked away.
“I think it’d be a great idea to work on that old boat. We could make some money, too,” Tyler said. “I wonder what he’s fixing it up for?”
“Probably to search for treasure. One look at him and anybody knows he could use the money,” Tony said.
“Is there any treasure around here?” Sam asked. “I read about the Treasure Coast before we moved.”
Tony laughed. “I can tell you aren’t from around here. The Treasure Coast is farther north.”
Sam stopped walking. “Oh, and I suppose boats can’t go up and down the coast?”
“Sure they do,” Tyler said.
“A treasure hunting boat. Yeah, I’ll bet that’s it,” Sam whispered.
“I think we should help him,” Tyler said. “Then he’ll feel like he has to invite us to go out and search for treasure with him. I mean, he’d have to share it with us like partners.”
Sam thought for a moment, “A treasure hunting ship. Wouldn’t that be something? Just think of all the gold and stuff we could find with a boat like that.”
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