Starcross by Philip Reeve. Somebody’s got to save the known Universe. Again. Art Mumby, his mostly irritating younger sister, Myrtle, and their mother have been invited to take a vacation at Starcoss, the finest sea-bathing resort in the entire Asteriod Belt. Just one problem . . . there are no seas anywhere in the Asteroid Belt, and that’s just the first sign that the hotel is not what it seems.
Seven months ago, on a rainy March night, sixteen-year- old WillowÆs parents drank too much wine and asked her to drive them home. They never made itùWillow lost control of the car and her parents… read more at Kobo.
Gideon the Cutpurse (The Gideon Trilogy, #1) by Linda Buckley-Archer. It seems far-fetched, but the premise here that the young heroes, Peter and Kate, travel from the present back to the eighteenth century is really very believable. Kate's father's antigravity machine probably has something to do with it. But whatever the reason, the time spent in 1763 is told so vividly that the reader feels that it's all very real.
Art historian Noah Charney does a fine job explaining the importance of the 24 scenes in Jan van Eyck's 1432 multi-panelled masterpiece. But the story of the altarpiece really springs to life when he begins the tale of its multiple thefts.
Nominated for the National Book Award, this book is set in colonial Massachusetts where, in 1704, a French and Indian war party descended on the village of Deerfield, abducting a Puritan minister and his children. Although John Williams was eventually released, his daughter horrified the family by staying with her captors and marrying a Mohawk husband.
Among the novels of Balzac’s The Human Comedy is Pére Goriot, considered by many to be his highest achievement. Balzac's many masteries all find their fullest expression here. The novel was written when Balzac's genius was at its height and when his physical powers were not as yet impaired by his enormous labor and reckless disregard for his health. The history of Goriot and his daughters, the fortunes of Eugene, and the mysterious work of Vautrin.
Though reared as a Lenni Lenape Indian, fifteen-year-old True Son, once called John Camera Butler, was ordered back to the white man. It was impossible for True Son to believe that his people were white and not Indian. He had learned to hate the white man. And now he learned to hate his new father, his new house, his new family. He hated the name John Butler. Where did he belong now—and where could he go?