Outros livros que poderiam interessá-lo

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  Game of Freedom - Mestre Bimba...

  Duncan Tonatiuh

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  A meia lua whooshed in the air. The strike was evaded and followed with an aú. Two young men were playing capoeira in the middle of the roda. Bimba wanted to play too. Although it is debated when and where capoeira—an art form that blends martial arts, dance, acrobatics, music, and spirituality—originated exactly, one thing is certain: in the early 20th century, Brazil was the only country in the world where capoeira was played, and it was mainly practiced by people of African descent. In 1890, two years after Brazil officially abolished slavery, the game was outlawed. Wealthy, lighter-skinned society feared and looked down on capoeira, seeing it as a game for malandros—what people in power called the poor Black communities they disdained. But in the early 1920s in the city of Salvador, a man called Bimba would advocate for capoeira, and those who practiced it, to be treated with dignity and the respect it deserved. Inspired by pre-Columbian codices, Duncan Tonatiuh tells the story of arguably the greatest capoeirista of all time, who fought to turn a misunderstood, persecuted Afro-Brazilian activity into a celebrated art practiced by millions around the world.

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  Get To Bed! - A Virtuous...

  Catherine Ann Russell

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  What Will It Take to Go To Bed? 
  One of the biggest challenges at the Bouncing Baby Farm is getting the animals to bed, especially on lovely summer evenings. Goats, ducks, and chickens simply do not cooperate. It takes so much time to say “goodnight” that an owl informs the owner that it will soon be dawning a new day. Regardless of critter shenanigans, all is well at the Bouncing Baby Farm. This delightful, fun poem will entertain kids and parents alike as a go-to bedtime story before they say, "Goodnight!" 
  Get to Bed! is a children’s picture book for ages 0-7 and their parents. 
  Proceeds from book sales support emergency famine relief for infants and children 
  Find out more at www.basketfulreliefproject.com 
  For meaningful quality time with your child, why not buy a copy today!

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  Dinner at the Brake Fast

  Renee Beauregard Lute

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  Dinner at the Brake Fast is a hilarious and heartfelt story about road-trip mishaps, a murderous rooster, facing down anxieties, and unexpected friendship that is a must-pick for readers who loved The Science of Unbreakable Things and The First Rule of Punk.  
  Tacoma Jones loves working at her family’s roadside diner, the Brake Fast, pouring coffee and serving eggs and muffins to truckers all day long. But tonight, she is finally going to break out her collection of cookbooks and prepare the best dinner the state of Washington has ever seen.  
  But her excitement is dampened when she learns that today is one of Dad’s bad days, when his depression makes it hard for him to get out of bed.  
  Tacoma knows she can’t fix her dad’s depression. But what she can do is steal back his prized photograph of his second-best day from her nemesis, the nasty Crocodile Kyle—while also planning a dinner that is sure to brighten up his bad day.  
  She just might need an accomplice or two to pull off the heist. . . . 

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  I Always ALWAYS Get My Way

  Thad Krasnesky

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  When Emmy accidentally spills juice on her dad' s pants, she takes refuge behind Mom' s knee. Expecting a reprimand, Emmy is surprised when Mom tells Dad, " Now, sweetheart, you should let it be. After all… she' s only three." What an amazing discovery! She' s too young to be punished!
  
  
  For the next few days, whenever one of Emmy' s creative projects ends in a wreck, she wangles her way out of trouble by proclaiming " I' m only three" and pulling a handy weapon from her arsenal of manipulative maneuvers. With a carefully aimed pout, a shift of blame, or an all-out tantrum, this girl sure knows how to always, ALWAYS get her way.
  
  
  But even the most understanding families have their limit, and in this laugh-out-loud story, it turns out that the limit looks a lot like an iguana in a bikini.
  
  
  Take a walk on the wild side with an endearingly self-absorbed little scamp who gets caught up in what she' s doing without foreseeing the consequences.

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  Close Friends’ Cathedral Adventure

  Anne Ward Crocker

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  Peat, a toad, and Paul-Paulette, an earthworm, live in the woods beneath the roots of their friend, Christy, a Christmas fern. One day they are dug up and carried away. Christy is replanted in a pot large enough to hold Paul-Paulette, but Peat is too big to get in and cannot completely hide.
   He stays under Christy’s fronds, but can’t disappear.
   
  Together with their wild flower friends, they are taken to the Washington National Cathedral to participate in the annual Festival of Flowers. While the plants are being carried into the cathedral, Peat is discovered, picked up and left in the Garth – the small, enclosed garden near the base of the stairs.
   
  This is the story of the little toad’s adventure as he tries to find his plant and animal friends in the huge building. It is a tour of the cathedral and an introduction to cathedral architecture inside and out. A short glossary of architecture terms is included.

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  Infiltration

  Algis Budrys

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  Infiltration by Algis Budrys - If werewolves exist, they don't necessarily conform to all the superstitions people have. They may even know fear.... 
  Sunset. They're coming for me, tonight, he knew as he woke. 
  Sunset. Not really—if he were to get dressed now, and go out on the street, the red globe would still be hanging over the cliffs of New Jersey. But the shadow of the building next door had fallen over his apartment windows, and he sleepily pushed a cigarette between his numb lips and swung his feet over the side of the bed, fumbling with a match as he walked over to the small radio on the windowsill and turned it on. There was a double-header between the Giants and Cincinnati—the first game was probably in its last inning. 
  Sunset—odd, how the conditioning worked. Was it conditioning? Or were the old wives' tales not so absurd, after all? But he could go out in the sunlight—had done it many times. His tan proved it. He touched silver and cold iron countless times each day, crossed running water—and he'd gone to church every Sunday, until he was twelve. No, there was a core of truth under the fantastically complex shell of nonsense, but the old limitations were not part of it. He shrugged. Neither were most of the powers. 
  Still, he liked to sleep in the daytime. His schedule seemed to gain an hour at night, lose one in the morning, until, almost unnoticeably, it had slipped around the clock. 
  He went into the bathroom while the worn tubes in the radio warmed up slowly, and washed his face, brushed his teeth, shaved. He combed his hair, then paused thoughtfully. Wouldn't do any harm. No full moon in here, either, he thought, looking up at the circular fluorescent tube in the ceiling, but he noticed no impediment as he coalesced, dropped to all fours, and ran his pelt against the curry-combs he had screwed to the bathroom door.

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