Rotten

Rotten

by Michael Northrop
Rotten

Rotten

by Michael Northrop

eBook

$5.99 

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Overview

A troubled teen. A rescued Rottweiler. An unlikely friendship.

Jimmer "JD" Dobbs is back in town after spending the summer "upstate." No one believes his story about visiting his aunt, and it's pretty clear that he has something to hide. It's also pretty clear that his mom made a new friend while he was away---a rescued Rottweiler that JD immediately renames Johnny Rotten (yes, after that guy in the Sex Pistols). Both tough but damaged, JD and Johnny slowly learn to trust each other, but their newfound bond is threatened by a treacherous friend and one snap of Johnny's powerful jaws. As the secrets JD has tried so hard to keep under wraps start to unravel, he suddenly has something much bigger to worry about: saving his dog.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780545495899
Publisher: Scholastic, Inc.
Publication date: 04/01/2013
Sold by: Scholastic, Inc.
Format: eBook
Pages: 256
Lexile: 670L (what's this?)
File size: 1 MB
Age Range: 13 - 16 Years

About the Author

Michael Northrop is the New York Times bestselling author of the middle-grade adventure series TombQuest. He is also the author of On Thin Ice; Trapped, an Indie Next List selection; Plunked, a New York Public Library 100 Titles for Reading and Sharing selection and an NPR Backseat Book Club pick; and other titles. An editor at Sports Illustrated Kids for many years, he now writes full-time from his home in New York City. Learn more at michaelnorthrop.net.

Read an Excerpt

ROTTENI grab my bag from the car and head for the side door. There's not much furniture in the front room of our house -- just a TV, an old couch, a low table, and, most nights, me -- so when I bang through the side door, make the right, and head in there to drop my stuff, I don't bother to switch on the light. Sure enough, I slam my shin into something and go down in a heap. I realize mid-fall that it must be the coffee table. I realize post-fall that mom must have moved it while I was away. I grab my shin and swear, but my voice is drowned out by the noise suddenly filling the room. It makes even less sense than the table being out of place. It's still dark and all I can see are stars from hitting my shin, so for a second I think maybe I'm imagining it or it's coming from the TV. But the TV is off and the sound keeps coming: It's a dog, barking its head off, barking at me. It makes no sense: We don't have a dog. We never have. I look around the dark room, trying to figure out where it is. It sounds close, and I don't want to get leg-humped or mauled or rabies. I reach up and sort of cover my face, so that I'm looking out through my spread fingers. Just as my eyes are beginning to adjust to the dark, the light flips on and I see my mom standing at the edge of the room. "Don't worry," she says. "He's new." It takes me a moment to realize she's talking to the dog.

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