I did a mean thing. A very mean thing. I HATE that I did it. But I did. This is worse than carrot juice on a cupcake or a wasp on my pillow or a dress that’s too tight at the neck. In the third instal
I hate camp. I just hate it. I wish I didn’t. But I do. Being here is worse than bug juice on a burger. Or homework on Thanksgiving. Or water seeping into my shoes. In this sequel to Like Pickle
I had a bad August. A very bad August. As bad as pickle juice on a cookie. Eleanor’s beloved babysitter, Bibi, is moving away. Suddenly, the things she used to enjoy aren’t fun anymore—everyt
A new kid moves into Owen and Eleanor's neighborhood, and she looks about the same age as Owen and Eleanor, which is super cool. But she speaks a language that Owen and Eleanor don't recognize, she dr
When something goes bump in the night . . . it’s most likely a plumbing problem, or something equally mundane. But fake medium Eleanor Wilde is happy to investigate and cleanse your home of spectral p
The Son She Loved. The Betrayal She Faced. The Legend She Became. The stunning conclusion to the Eleanor of Aquitaine trilogyImprisoned by her husband. Separated from her children. If King Henry II th
This major work trancends the conventional sub-cultures of academic history by bringing economic, social, military, and diplomatic history back together, where they belong. Allies at War represents a
"Well, I'm sure I don't have any secrets...," I said, trying to sound certain. "Can't we just tell them that?" Mom's steady gaze was driving me crazy. "Oh," she said slowly, "but that's where you're
