Melinda curled up on the couch, reading Little Women for the sixth November in a row. She’d received an abridged version for her seventh birthday and identified with Amy March because Amy was the only character who wasn’t yet a teenager. And maybe Melinda, like Amy, was a little bit spoiled.
Read it now
I lost it!
The one thing. The one responsibility I had in my care. And I lost it.
I raced down the corridor. My diamond-sharp claws dug into the floor, and my smooth, taut wings accelerated me forward. Suddenly, my shoulder slammed into a polished iron door. It swung back on its hinges
“What we have here is a mystery, my friends.” Ten-year-old Ana addressed the row of stuffed animals—and one real girl—that sat at attention.
The girl raised her hand, and Ana swallowed a sigh. “Yes, Mabel?”
“This is just a pretend mystery, right?”
Ana loved her cousin dearly, but, by Shakespeare’s pen,
Mrs. Smith smothered the flames bursting from Cade’s hair with a dishcloth. Brushing back her messy curls, she studied me out of the corner of her eye. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Kyle?”
I grinned at her. “Of course I do! I may only be eleven, but I take care of
It’s not easy being an intergalactic babysitter. While their parents might be working out an intergalactic peace treaty, the kids don’t have the same amity.
I grip Xuj’s shoulder with one hand and Tyler’s shoulder with the other, keeping them from clawing each other’s eyes out. If that were to happen, Xuj would win
It was a curious shop. Wedged between a formal wear boutique and an espresso bar its brick structure was weathered and chipped. Rusty chains held a wooden sign with a squiggly line running to a red X as the only clue to what one might find inside.
Well-dressed pedestrians hurried by never sparing
The wind howling across Haiz’s brown, leather wings could not drown out his roar as he sliced through the air back toward his cave. His voice bounced from valley, to village, and on toward the mountains, declaring his sovereignty over all things within his territory.
His scaled eyes scanned the ground below, searching.
“That guy’s getting angry.” Timothy pointed at the mountains in the distance as the ground shook beneath us.
We’d gotten out of school early after the quakes grew so strong, they knocked the books off the shelves.
“What guy?” I asked. Timothy was older and knew a lot of stuff,
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