This Town Is a Nightmare
(Sprache: Englisch)
"An engaging, plot-driven thriller . . ." -- Kirkus Reviews, on This Town Is Not All Right
"For junior conspiracy theorists everywhere." -- Booklist, on This Town Is Not All Right
In the sequel to This Town Is Not All Right, Beacon, Everleigh, and...
"For junior conspiracy theorists everywhere." -- Booklist, on This Town Is Not All Right
In the sequel to This Town Is Not All Right, Beacon, Everleigh, and...
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"An engaging, plot-driven thriller . . ." -- Kirkus Reviews, on This Town Is Not All Right"For junior conspiracy theorists everywhere." -- Booklist, on This Town Is Not All Right
In the sequel to This Town Is Not All Right, Beacon, Everleigh, and Arthur think they've left the horror of Driftwood Harbor behind them, but the worst is yet to come.
After barely escaping Driftwood Harbor and the wrath of the town, twins Beacon and Everleigh McCullough are on the run with their father and their friend and resident genius Arthur. Only, there's something strange going on with their dad. As they start to unravel what's wrong, Beacon quickly realizes they have much bigger problems on their hands, as the group is drawn back to the very same place they left, in order to prevent a terrifying plot from unfolding. Because this time it's not just their family or the town that's in danger -- this time, it's the planet.
This Town Is a Nightmare is the middle-grade horror sequel to M. K. Krys's This Town Is Not All Right. Be prepared for a thrilling page-turner with a major mystery, because the residents of Driftwood Harbor are determined to draw you back in, no matter what it takes.
Lese-Probe zu „This Town Is a Nightmare “
Chapter 1Beacon dropped his skateboard onto the cracked New York City sidewalk and pushed off. He weaved through the crowds, past brownstones and steel skyscrapers, churches and theaters and police stations. Cars zoomed past on the street. Horns honked and people yelled out cuss words. Chilly air blew across his face, carrying the scent of hot dogs and fresh-poured concrete.
Beacon loved this board. He relished the rise and fall of the path under his wheels. He lived for the speed, came alive when he sailed past commuters and sliced across roadways. It didn t matter where he was when he was on his board. He was home.
He whizzed around a busy street corner and saw a flash of white-blond curls standing at a set of traffic lights. His heart lodged in his chest. Jane Middleton couldn t be here, in New York City . . . right?
He looked back, searching for Jane. But the girl had vanished. If she d ever been there to begin with.
Beacon had become a paranoid mess ever since his family had gone on the run from the Sov. Every scritch behind him was a predator; every blond-haired girl was his enemy ready to take him down. He was getting really sick of the constant fear, but unfortunately, it didn t seem to be going anywhere.
Hey, watch it!
Beacon turned back around just in time to avoid slamming into a construction worker. He jerked out of the way and stumbled off his board, rolling onto the concrete. The sidewalk traffic flowed around him as if he were just a lamppost and not an injured twelve-year-old boy.
I m okay, nobody panic, Beacon muttered. He pushed himself up and wiped off his jeans.
And found the exact place he d been looking for.
The flashing neon sign across the street announced Ed s Fast Cash Pawnshop. There were about eight dollar symbols on the sign, which was what propelled Beacon to pick up his board and cross the street, even though his stomach felt like it was filled with slippery eels.
As
... mehr
Beacon got closer to the shop, he saw a homeless man and his dog sitting in front of the building. The massive chocolate Lab leaped like a puppy when Beacon approached. It pushed its body into Beacon s legs, nearly toppling him with his eagerness to be petted. Beacon obliged, laughing as the dog s tail spun like a windmill.
Cute dog. What s his name? Beacon asked.
The man looked up from under the dark hood he wore low over his face. Beacon suppressed a gasp. It wasn t a man, but a kid not much older than him. His face was covered in patches of freckles, and his wild mane of blond hair hung over hard blue eyes. The maroon T-shirt he wore under his unzipped sweatshirt hung loosely on his thin frame.
The kid stared at him contemptuously.
He s really cute, Beacon tried again. He s a Lab, right?
The boy said nothing.
Good talk, Beacon muttered. He withdrew his hand and entered the pawnshop. The bell over the door jingled as he walked inside.
The place was dank and musty. Every inch of its cluttered shelves was filled with toasters and ironing boards, Xboxes and power tools and gaudy gold jewelry under smudged glass.
He approached the front counter, where a woman with a jam stain on her smock was watching a news report about unprecedented hurricanes blowing across the East Coast. Beacon pushed down the panic he always felt anytime he accidently caught one of these news reports and cleared his throat. The woman sighed heavily and looked over at him.
Um, hi. I m here to sell this. Beacon hefted his skateboard.
He felt his throat get tight, and he swallowed hard. He couldn t be a baby about this. His family needed money. It would be selfish and s
Cute dog. What s his name? Beacon asked.
The man looked up from under the dark hood he wore low over his face. Beacon suppressed a gasp. It wasn t a man, but a kid not much older than him. His face was covered in patches of freckles, and his wild mane of blond hair hung over hard blue eyes. The maroon T-shirt he wore under his unzipped sweatshirt hung loosely on his thin frame.
The kid stared at him contemptuously.
He s really cute, Beacon tried again. He s a Lab, right?
The boy said nothing.
Good talk, Beacon muttered. He withdrew his hand and entered the pawnshop. The bell over the door jingled as he walked inside.
The place was dank and musty. Every inch of its cluttered shelves was filled with toasters and ironing boards, Xboxes and power tools and gaudy gold jewelry under smudged glass.
He approached the front counter, where a woman with a jam stain on her smock was watching a news report about unprecedented hurricanes blowing across the East Coast. Beacon pushed down the panic he always felt anytime he accidently caught one of these news reports and cleared his throat. The woman sighed heavily and looked over at him.
Um, hi. I m here to sell this. Beacon hefted his skateboard.
He felt his throat get tight, and he swallowed hard. He couldn t be a baby about this. His family needed money. It would be selfish and s
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von M. K. Krys
M. K. Krys (as Michelle Krys) is the author of Hexed, Charmed, and Dead Girls Society. When she's not writing books, Michelle moonlights as a NICU nurse. She lives in Thunder Bay, Ontario, Canada, with her family. You can visit Michelle online at michellekrys.com and follow her on Facebook and Twitter.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: M. K. Krys
- Altersempfehlung: Ab 10 Jahre
- 2079, 304 Seiten, Maße: 13,9 x 20,9 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Penguin Random House
- ISBN-10: 0593097181
- ISBN-13: 9780593097182
Sprache:
Englisch
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