Other books that might interest you

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  Last Immortals The: Dawn of the...

  Kit Brooks

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  Abandoned at birth, Ace the axolotl struggles to survive both human and animal predators in his quest to save himself—and his entire species—in this epic middle grade fantasy for fans of Warrior Cats. There’s danger lurking in the depths of the lake. Ace learns this early—when his twin brother cruelly devours his tail and leaves him for dead. Separated from his family, Ace is cast into a perilous waterway. He is wary of trusting others, but his survival will depend on it as he navigates treacherous algae blooms and hunts for food while he waits for his tail to regenerate. And when he stumbles upon a glowing green axolotl named Ariel, he learns that, with training, axolotls can develop an incredible power: immortality. With high rewards come unspeakable risks, and Ace has been hurt before. But the potential to cheat death might be too hard to resist. This action-packed adventure explores the strength that develops through adversity as Ace confronts bullying, betrayal, poisoned waters, and vicious predators, all while forming lasting bonds with the courageous axolotls he meets along the way.

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  Or Darwin If You Prefer - Mr...

  Mel Hunter

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  Or Darwin, If You Prefer by Mel Hunter - Mr. Harbinger could not quite believe in the Mouth. But poor Mr. Harbinger—or Darwin, if you prefer—are gone to other times. 
  Here’s what Fantastic Universe had to say about Mel Hunter, “Mr. Hunter's superb art work has appeared on a baker's dozen science fiction magazine covers during the past year, but incredible as it may seem with this story we introduce him to the reading public for the first time as a science fiction writer. We say incredible, because this is not a beginner's story. It is sparkling, sophisticated, erudite—the work of a craftsman.” 
  This is the first time we have come across an illustrator turned author. And here’s the amazing thing, he wasn’t any old illustrator, Mel Hunter was a very accomplished illustrator producing illustrations for famous science fiction authors Isaac Asimov and Robert A. Heinlein, as well as a technical and scientific illustrator for The Pentagon, Hayden Planetarium in Boston, and the Massachusetts Audubon Society. 
  Hunter was born in 1927 in Oak Park, Illinois and he taught himself book and magazine illustration. He was nominated for the Hugo Award for Best Professional Artist in 1960, 1961 and 1962. He became a technical illustrator at Northrop Aircraft where he painted illustrations of advanced aircraft and simulated combat scenarios. 
  His love of air and space took him from California's desert runways to Florida's seacoast launchpads to illustrate every variety of jet-age aircraft and space-age rocket imaginable—from the X-15 to Saturn V. He died in 2004 and according to his final wish, his cremated remains were launched into space on May 22, 2012. 
  Savor this story, immerse yourself in it, and listen to it as many times as your heart desires—for it stands alone, as the singular science fiction story ever penned by Mel Hunter.

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  The Bird Caper - Middle-Grade...

  Victoria E Pannell, Thorir...

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  Get ready for an enthralling adventure in middle-grade fiction with the release of "The Bird Caper," the captivating debut in The Crow’s Tales series by Victoria E. Pannell and Thorir Sigfusson. This delightful new novel, a tale of unexpected twists and burgeoning friendships, is set to steal the hearts of young readers everywhere. 
  Brandon, a ten-year-old boy, is devastated when his parents decide to sell their house, uprooting him from the only home he's ever known. The prospect of moving away from his friends and beloved pet crow, Ralph, is more than he can bear. But things take a wild turn when Ralph is accused of terrorizing a little girl and stealing a computer chip belonging to Brandon's best friend, Josh. 
  As tensions mount and Brandon's life spirals out of control, he finds himself at odds with the neighborhood bullies, the infamous B.B. Boys. Accusations against Ralph escalate when the gang claims the crow has flown off with their prized silver whistle. Amidst the chaos, Brandon discovers an unexpected ally in the form of ladybugs, leading to a surprising resolution that teaches him that change, while daunting, can also open doors to new friendships and adventures 
  Critics have lauded “The Bird Caper” for its engaging plot and humor. The Wishing Shelf describes it as "a fast-paced, smartly plotted drama filled with twists, turns – and lots of humor. Highly recommended!" 
  With “The Bird Caper” setting the stage, Pannell and Sigfusson are excited to continue the adventures of Brandon and Ralph in the upcoming books of The Crow’s Tales series. Their second book, “The Big Dream,” and the anticipated third installment, “The Crow’s Ring,” promise to deliver more captivating stories that will delight middle-grade readers.

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  The Fibbing Giraffe

  D. White

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  Fibbers get caught!The Fibbing Giraffe is a tale about a dishonest giraffe who fibs to his family and friends. It begins with fibs about him beating his buddies in various games. As a result of his fibs, his neck begins to shrink! He loses his ability to enjoy the things he used to enjoy, such as eating tree top leaves. The Fibbing Giraffe then tells his biggest fib. He lies to his mother about breaking the window. His neck vanishes! Is he ever going to be able to get his neck back to its original size? (Think Pinocchio but in reverse!)

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  Tony and The Beetles

  Philip K. Dick

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  Tony and the Beetles by Philip K. Dick - A ten-year-old boy grows up fast when history catches up with the human race. 
  Reddish-yellow sunlight filtered through the thick quartz windows into the sleep-compartment. Tony Rossi yawned, stirred a little, then opened his black eyes and sat up quickly. With one motion he tossed the covers back and slid to the warm metal floor. He clicked off his alarm clock and hurried to the closet. 
  It looked like a nice day. The landscape outside was motionless, undisturbed by winds or dust-shift. The boy's heart pounded excitedly. He pulled his trousers on, zipped up the reinforced mesh, struggled into his heavy canvas shirt, and then sat down on the edge of the cot to tug on his boots. He closed the seams around their tops and then did the same with his gloves. Next he adjusted the pressure on his pump unit and strapped it between his shoulder blades. He grabbed his helmet from the dresser, and he was ready for the day. 
  In the dining-compartment his mother and father had finished breakfast. Their voices drifted to him as he clattered down the ramp. A disturbed murmur; he paused to listen. What were they talking about? Had he done something wrong, again? 
  And then he caught it. Behind their voices was another voice. Static and crackling pops. The all-system audio signal from Rigel IV. They had it turned up full blast; the dull thunder of the monitor's voice boomed loudly. The war. Always the war. He sighed, and stepped out into the dining-compartment. 
  "Morning," his father muttered. 
  "Good morning, dear," his mother said absently. She sat with her head turned to one side, wrinkles of concentration webbing her forehead. Her thin lips were drawn together in a tight line of concern. His father had pushed his dirty dishes back and was smoking, elbows on the table, dark hairy arms bare and muscular. He was scowling, intent on the jumbled roar from the speaker above the sink.

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  The Misplaced Battleship - One...

  Harry Harrison

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  The Misplaced Battleship by Harry Harrison - It might seem a little careless to lose track of something as big as a battleship ... but interstellar space is on a different scale of magnitude. But a misplaced battleship—in the wrong hands!—can be most dangerous. 
  When it comes to picking locks and cracking safes I admit to no master. The door to Inskipp's private quarters had an old-fashioned tumbler drum that was easier to pick than my teeth. I must have gone through that door without breaking step. Quiet as I was though, Inskipp still heard me. The light came on and there he was sitting up in bed pointing a .75 caliber recoilless at my sternum. 
  "You should have more brains than that, diGriz," he snarled. "Creeping into my room at night! You could have been shot." 
  "No I couldn't," I told him, as he stowed the cannon back under his pillow. "A man with a curiosity bump as big as yours will always talk first and shoot later. And besides—none of this pussyfooting around in the dark would be necessary if your screen was open and I could have got a call through." 
  Inskipp yawned and poured himself a glass of water from the dispenser unit above the bed. "Just because I head the Special Corps, doesn't mean that I am the Special Corps," he said moistly while he drained the glass. "I have to sleep sometime. My screen is open only for emergency calls, not for every agent who needs his hand held." 
  "Meaning I am in the hand-holding category?" I asked with as much sweetness as I could. 
  "Put yourself in any category you please," he grumbled as he slumped down in the bed. "And also put yourself out into the hall and see me tomorrow during working hours." 
  He was at my mercy, really. He wanted sleep so much. And he was going to be wide awake so very soon. 
  "Do you know what this is?" I asked him, poking a large glossy pic under his long broken nose. One eye opened slowly.

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