Love, Annie

Love, Annie

by Dandi Daley Mackall

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Annie Lind was born to be "Professor Love," her Website column for the lovelorn. She knows how to handle guys! When her dream date asks her out she just knows she's in love—and neglects her friends and commitments. Will she discover what real love is before it's too late?

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Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780310567752
Publisher: Zonderkidz
Publication date: 05/26/2009
Series: Faithgirlz!: Blog On! Series , #2
Sold by: HarperCollins Publishing
Format: NOOK Book
Pages: 128
File size: 3 MB
Age Range: 9 - 12 Years

About the Author

Dandi Daley Mackall loves God, children, words, and animals. Her nearly 500 books for children and grown-ups have sold more than four million copies worldwide. She won the ECPA Christian Book Award for Best Children’s Book 2015 and multiple Mom’s Choice Awards, as well as ALA Best Book, NY Public Library Top Pick, Children’s Book Council Award of Excellence, and the Helen Keating Ott Award for Contributions to Children’s Literature. Her novel My Boyfriends’ Dogs is now a Hallmark Movie. Dandi writes from rural Ohio, where she lives with her family, including horses, dogs, cats, and an occasional squirrel, deer, or raccoon.


Read an Excerpt

Love, Annie

By Dandi Daley Mackall


Copyright © 2006 Dandi Daley Mackall
All right reserved.

ISBN: 0-310-71094-4

Chapter One

Annie Lind read the latest question emailed to the That's What You Think! website. It was a love question, and Annie's job was to field all questions about love. No problem. Not for "Professor Love," as Annie had started calling herself.

Grace Doe, a sophomore like Annie, had rounded up staff for her blog, which she called That's What You Think! Grace did most of the writing, putting out live journals about things she observed at Big Lake High School. But she'd recruited Annie to answer all love email.

"So?" Grace's long fingers drummed the back of the chair as she read the screen over Annie's shoulder. "Don't just sit there. How are you going to answer it, Annie?"

"I'm thinking!" Annie snapped. Grace could be so bossy. She and Annie had never been friends at high school. They had nothing in common. Annie belonged to everything - cheerleading, committees, Student Council. Grace belonged to nothing. Annie hated being alone. She needed her group of girls around her - or better yet, a group of guys. Grace, of course, liked to be alone. When Annie thought about it, it was pretty amazing that she and Grace could work together on anything.

Grace was growing on her, though. The girl saw things nobody else did. She knew when a teacher was going to explode, just bythe way the teacher's nose twitched. She could tell if a guy was lying by what he did with his hands. She could see through people. Annie admired that.

She smiled up at Grace to make up for snapping at her. "Just give me a sec, okay?"

Annie scrolled down to see the other questions from readers. She winked at Mick, Grace's little stepsis, who was sprawled on the gigantic leather couch. The three of them had come straight to "the Cottage" after school so Annie could use the main computer and Mick could upload it to the blog site.

Annie wished she lived in a cottage like this. She loved everything about it - the big wooden beams, the fireplace, the white stucco walls. The plush, all-white furniture wouldn't have lasted thirty seconds at Annie's house, with Marbles the Mutt. Grace was so lucky. The cottage sat empty most of the time because Grace's real mom was usually off in Paris or London or someplace exotic. But she kept the cottage in their little town of Big Lake, Ohio, so Grace could use it whenever she felt like it. Since Grace had recruited her "blog team," they'd started using the cottage as a base camp.

The team consisted of Grace and Mick; Jazz, the artist; Storm, the trivia queen; and Annie. Each of them had a section of the website, and the whole thing was anonymous. Jazz did graphics and came up with cartoons that rocked. Storm wrote the same way she talked, spilling out all kinds of funny facts about everything. Annie, as "Professor Love," was supposed to do an advice column. She liked being Professor Love, but she was so busy she couldn't waste much time with it today.

She finished reading the last question and got ready to answer. "No sweat, Grace. Prof Love is on the case!"

* * *


Dear Professor Love, I am SO in love with this boy @ my school, but i can't get him 2 love me back. I've done everything. I know his work and practice schedules, so I go 2 all his football practices and shop @ his store until I'm flat broke. I know his class schedule, and I dress hot every day and wait 4 him outside his classroom. Sometimes i drive by his house, just so i can "feel" his presence and hope he'll feel mine. What else can I do 2 make him love me? -Desperate

Dear Desperate,

So what is your plan here? Stalk him and hope he'll panic and give in? There are laws against you, you know. Did you ever hear of a time-tested strategy called "playing hard to get"? No? Didn't think so. Try it! Soon-before the police show up on your doorstep. There's a chance - a small chance - that he'll miss your adoration and wonder why you no longer know he exists. True, he may just be glad to be rid of you. But even so, isn't it better to move on than to be locked up in juvie for stalking? -Love, Professor Love

Dear Professor Love,

My boyfriend is picky. My girlfriends say he's controlling. I'll show up for our date in a skirt, and he'll suggest I go back and change into jeans. Another night, I show up in jeans, and he asks why don't I wear that red dress he likes. I guess it's more than clothes. He's always telling me not to laugh so loud, or to wear my hair up, or he's telling me to learn more about art and music. I don't want to make him mad or anything. But do you have something I could tell him? -Unsure

Dear Unsure,

Yeah. Tell the loser that you're not Burger King, and he can't have it his way. -Love, Professor Love


Excerpted from Love, Annie by Dandi Daley Mackall Copyright © 2006 by Dandi Daley Mackall. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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