Book by Benegar, John, Johnson, Jacquelyn, Singleton, Laurel

Global Issues in the Middle School

Politics & Social Sciences

Johnson, Jacquelyn

Benegar, John

Singleton, Laurel R.

Politics & Government

Center for Teaching Intl

Service Learning in the Middle School Curriculum: A Resource Book

Education & Teaching

Schukar, Ron

Schools & Teaching

Social Science Education consortium

Teaching About U.S. History

History

Smith, Gary

Zola, Jaye

Zola, John

Americas

From the Author\nExcerpt from Chapter 1 of Just Me. Morley. 
I'm trudging all the way to the back of our yard, calling my sister's name, telling her come on, supper's ready. And getting soakers, because I forgot to put on my boots. 
Daisy doesn't answer. 
And now it's really starting to rain. I reach into my pockets. I find old used tissues. A folded piece of paper. A quarter. Pocket fuzz. That's all. My gloves aren't there. 
I'm getting wet. And cold. And hungry. 
"Daisy," I keep yelling. I'm all the way at the very back of our property now, where I know it isn't possible to see from where Mom's probably watching from the kitchen window. "Come on, where are you?" 
Then she giggles, and I look up. 
And there she is, up in the apple tree, sitting on the very edge of the little deck of the tree-house. "Fooled you, Morley!" she calls down to me. "Bet you didn't know I can get up here, but I can. Just like you!" 
"Come on down!" I yell, but all she says is, "Can't!" 
I look around for the rope ladder, but there's no sign of it. 
"Come on," I holler. "Get the ladder and climb down! Mom says we have to come for supper right NOW!" 
Daisy just laughs and stands up, right at the edge, holding the rope ladder. It's broken, so now it's just one rope, with some sticks hanging off it. I don't know how that could've happened, but I don't stop to figure it out. 
I have no idea how she got up there. Right now, Daisy needs to get down. 
But how? There aren't any low branches on the apple tree, so there's no way to climb up to the treehouse without the ladder. 
Or a ladder. 
Then I remember that there's a ladder in the garage. It's made out of metal so it's too long and heavy for me to carry all this way, but I can balance it on the wheelbarrow and push it back here. 
Or get Mom to help. 
"Sit down RIGHT NOW!" I shout up to Daisy. "STAY THERE. I'll get the ladder from the garage and get you down. But you have to WAIT till I go get it." 
"Don't want to!" she says, in her sing-song-y voice. "Silly old Morley. You're not the boss of me!" 
And she's standing up now, dancing around and trying to do a handstand on the little deck above me. 
Even though it's raining and that treehouse deck must be slippery. 
She's really starting to frighten me. Daisy is always what Danny calls, "a real little dare-devil." 
She isn't afraid of heights, or the dark, or monsters under the bed, or witches hiding in her closet, or getting a bad report card. 
Or anything. 
Daisy usually has band-aids on her knees, but she doesn't seem to care. With all her dare-devil stunts like trying to hold her breath underwater for longer than me, or ride her bicycle no hands, or do skateboard tricks, or when she jumped off the top bunk, so Mom made Danny take the bunk beds apart, she never gets hurt. 
Not really. 
Mom is always telling Daisy to just behave, missy, or she'll be sorry. 
Danny always just laughs and says Daisy is like him, easy-going and up for anything. She's got his Irish luck, he says. 
What he also says, that Daisy's more like him and I'm more like Mom, might be true. 
"Look at me, Morley!" Daisy shouts now. "I'm a famous acrobat! Catch me, Morley. I'll do a trick and you have to catch me, just like Daddy does!" 
That's her thing, being an acrobat. It started after she saw some acrobats on America's Got Talent. 
Before that, she wanted to be a ski jumper in the Olympics, or an ice dancer and do all those spins and jumps and leaps and throws through the air. 
Or a race car driver, or an astronaut. Mom says she'll grow out of all that foolishness eventually. 
Her dad, Danny, thinks it's hilarious. 
He'd get her down. Or catch her. 
But he isn't here. 
I am. 
And I know this is crazy dangerous. 
"No, Daisy. Don't. Please. Just wait. PLEASE. Sit down and stay still! I'll get you down, as soon as I go get the ladder! Just STAY there!" 
"NO-oooooooooooooh" Daisy shrieks. 
As I turn to go back to the house, fetch the ladder, tell Mom, then hurry back here, working out in my head how fast I can possibly do all the

Just Me. Morley.: A Coming of Age Book for Girls 10 to 13 (The Morley Stories)

Children's Books

Animals

Crimson Hill Books

From the Author\nExcerpt from Chapter 1 of Feather's Girl: 
"I'm sorry, Morley," she says, interrupting me. "Listen to me. Now isn't the right time to get a cat. We've just had a lovely lunch out together and you have some beautiful gifts. Why don't you have a look at them? You need to remember to be grateful for what you've got. And you have some Thank You letters to write too, don't you?" 
Thank you letters are another rule at our house. You have to write them the same day you get a gift. Just saying, "Hey, thanks," in an email isn't enough, Mom says. 
That would be if I could send an email. There's a no computer rule in our house, and I'm not allowed to use her phone. Also, I can't have my own phone. 
I'm so disappointed, I want to cry. Or maybe yell at someone. I'm too upset to make jewellery, or draw something, or read, or do anything. 
"Yeah," I said. "Maybe. Later. I'm, uh, going for a walk..." 
"Fine. Be back by 4, because we're going to the beach. I promised Daisy..." 
I grab my bike that Dom fixed almost like it was after Julia stomped on it and head for the pet shelter. 
There, I check on Feather. He's still in his cage, curled up, falling asleep. 
Feather, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I tell him in my mind. 
Girl. Gone, he says. Then he's sleeping. 
I race through all the tasks they ask me to do, watching the clock. I get those jobs for the other pets done in record time, so I can have a long, long cuddle with Feather. I wash my hands and lift him out of his cage. I sink my face into his soft fur. His head smells like carnations and cinnamon. 
Girl, he says. 
Morley, I remind him. I'm Morley. 
Want to go home, he says. Take me home. 
He starts to purr. He has a really soft purr, so soft you have to be cuddling him to even hear it. 
He looks up at me and puts one soft white paw on my cheek. 
I whisper to him about what it will be like, when he comes home with me. 
When he is mine. 
And I am his. 
I promise him that it will be soon. I say it out loud. Because I need to hear it. I need to believe. 
Most of all, I need to hope.\nHow hard can it be to adopt the kitten you’ve fallen in love with and put your family back together? 
As Morley Star’s 11th birthday dawns, she’s convinced her wish to adopt Feather will finally come true. Surely getting him for her very own is the birthday surprise her mother has promised?\nAnd maybe…just maybe…she will finally meet her father. Her real father.\nBut Morley is about to have a very different birthday and summer vacation than the one she hopes for. There will be more secrets revealed and surprises as she searches for what she’s always needed and wanted.\nGetting her family back together and saving Feather won’t happen unless Morley takes some big risks and faces even bigger dangers.\nFeather’s Girl is the second in a heartwarming series of realistic novels that take place in a small seaside town. It's a place where nothing - and everything - happens for real girls with big dreams! A coming-of-age novel series to enchant grade 5 and middle school readers ages 10 to 13.

Feather’s Girl: A Coming of Age Book for Girls 10 to 13 (The Morley Stories)

Sam's Gift: A Coming of Age Book for Girls 10 to 13

Rules for Flying: A Coming of Age Book for Girls 10 to 13 (The Morley Stories)

Secrets and Lies: A Coming of Age Book for Girls 10 to 13 (The Morley Stories)

Literature & Fiction

Contemporary

Gifted

Teen & Young Adult

ARE YOU STILL MINE: A Novel (North of Boston)

Genre Fiction

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Books by Johnson, Jacquelyn