For Corbett Griffith III, divorce and two busy
parents mean goodbye city life, hello great outdoors. With their busy Chicago
careers and schedules, his parents just don't seem to have any time for him.
When his mother sends him to his uncle's Wisconsin fishing resort for the
summer, Corbett feels that there's no one pulling for him or caring what
happens to him.
But all of that changes at Whispering Pines Lodge, Corbett learns he is never really alone, thanks to his Uncle Dell, who takes care of him, and his new friend Pike, who pulls him into one mischievous adventure after another. It's a summer of change for ten-year-old Corbett--even his name changes, when a cute girl calls him "Griffy," a nickname he likes enough to keep.
When Griffy catches two elusive walleyes, he is surprised to discover how much he likes fishing. Eager to test his newfound skills, he and Pike are stunned to hear that a seventy-pound muskie is on the loose. They resolve to catch the ferocious fish, no matter what. For Pike catching a world record muskie would be about the sport. For Griffy it would be about something more. Maybe, just maybe, if he caught that fish is parents would take notice.
But all of that changes at Whispering Pines Lodge, Corbett learns he is never really alone, thanks to his Uncle Dell, who takes care of him, and his new friend Pike, who pulls him into one mischievous adventure after another. It's a summer of change for ten-year-old Corbett--even his name changes, when a cute girl calls him "Griffy," a nickname he likes enough to keep.
When Griffy catches two elusive walleyes, he is surprised to discover how much he likes fishing. Eager to test his newfound skills, he and Pike are stunned to hear that a seventy-pound muskie is on the loose. They resolve to catch the ferocious fish, no matter what. For Pike catching a world record muskie would be about the sport. For Griffy it would be about something more. Maybe, just maybe, if he caught that fish is parents would take notice.
Think alligator. Think prehistoric beast. Think mean.
Will they be able to catch the muskie and stop it from attacking anyone or anything?
Genre: YA / MG crossover
Published: 3/11/2012 by Amazon
Digital Svcs.
Book Links: Amazon Kindle l Paperback l Barnes & Noble
Excerpt:
As
Gill turned to start the motor, she stopped short. “Good Gouda,” she gasped.
“What?
What is it?” Pike asked, his voice raising an octave. From his seat at the bow,
he strained to see what was going on.
“The
stringer. It’s gone.”
She
untied what was left of the stringer and held it out for Pike and Griffy to
see.
“It
looks like it’s been cut,” Griffy exclaimed. “How …”
The
three surveyed the water around them, fear growing on their faces.
“Vamanos,
Gil. Vamanos,” Pike ordered.
She
jumped to action, cranked up the motor, and turned the boat toward the lodge
and Suicide Rock. Luckily, the rocking boat had moved them a little closer to
home.
The Lucky 13 sped—as fast as a four-horsepower motor allowed—for the dock at
Whispering Pines Lodge. They almost made it, too, but the muskie pole, resting
against the side of the boat, suddenly slipped and caught on the underside of
Griffy’s seat.
“Whoaaaaa,
Gil. Whoaaaaa,” Pike called, waving his hands back and forth over his head.
Gil
cut the motor.
“Muskie
pole’s still in the water,” Griffy explained as he reached down to dislodge the
reel. As soon as he got it free, the pole jerked sharply backward. Griffy
wrestled it with both hands before being pulled spread eagle toward the stern
of the boat.
With
only seconds to react, Gil jumped away from the motor as Griffy and the fishing
pole flew at her. As it had with the muskie pole, Griffy’s bench seat stopped
him. His feet caught on its side saving him from being pulled out of the boat.
“Hit
the drag! Hit the drag! Give it line!” Pike ordered.
But
Griffy couldn’t move. All he could do was hold on.
“Don’t
let go, Grif!” Pike pleaded as he leaped to Griffy’s aid.
With
one hand, he grabbed the muskie pole just above the reel. With the other, he
pushed the drag button and released the line. He wasn’t quick enough to save
Griffy, though. With the tension gone, Griffy dropped—kerplunk!—to the bottom of the boat.
“Sorry,
dude,” Pike winced as he took the fishing pole from Griffy.
Griffy
moaned and pulled himself up. He flexed his hands back and forth. They hurt,
bad.
“Do
you think we snagged a log?” Gil asked quietly as she settled back in at the
boat’s helm.
“I
don’t know,” Pike answered. He started reeling the line in. “We’ll soon see.”
Griffy
watched Pike in tense silence.
With
the pole held high, Pike reeled and reeled. He heaved the pole back. It bent
dangerously low. “Ugh,” he gasped. “It feels like a log—dead weight—but it’s
moving.” He kept reeling, but it was difficult and slow going. “Here, my arms
are killing me,” Pike said, passing the pole to Griffy.
“Geez!”
Griffy exclaimed. “It weighs a ton.” He reeled and reeled, heaved and heaved
working the log closer and closer to the boat.
“Let’s
just cut the line and go in,” Gil stated. Her hands were shaking.
“Take
over, Pike,” Griffy called out. “My arms are about ready to go.”
Pike
grabbed the pole and started reeling again. Strangely, the line became very
slack, gathering in curls at the water’s surface.
“Hey,
I think we lost it,” Pike announced and reeled faster.
Curious,
both Gil and Griffy peered into the water.
“I
don’t see anything,” Gil said.
She
spoke too soon.
A
flat, reptilianlike head almost as big as hers broke water about four feet from
the boat. The beady-eyed muskie flashed its cream-colored belly and then
disappeared.
“Ohmigod!”
Gil gasped.
“Did
you see it! Did you see it?! What was it?” Griffy shouted.
Pike
stopped reeling. “Mu-u-uskie,” he stammered.
Somehow,
seeing the five-foot monster muskie didn’t frighten Griffy as much as it
excited him. He yelled at Pike and Gil. “Wow! Did you see it?” He punched Pike
in the arm. “Keep reeling! Keep reeling!”
The
punch seemed to get Pike back on track and in fisherman mode. He quickly got
the slack out of the line and gave the pole a heave. The muskie, playing dead
before, came alive. It frantically jumped out of the water and flipped
violently in the air, trying to free itself from the lure lodged in its mouth.
Its massive body crashed back down, spraying the kids and The Lucky 13 with cold lake water.
“Holy chedda cheese!” Pike and Griffy
yelled.
Gil
didn’t ask anyone’s permission this time. She sat down at the motor and cranked
it up. She was getting out of there—fish or no fish. Out of the corner of his
eye, Griffy saw Gil pick up the wooden club that Mr. Hanover had given them.
“When you see that muskie, hit it and hit it hard,” he had told them. Griffy
saw her place the club’s leather strap around her wrist and, with her other
hand, grab the handle of the idling motor.
“Brace
yourselves, boys,” she warned. “We’re going in.”
Pike
and Griffy battled the muskie as Gil inched them closer and closer to shore.
The muskie fought vigorously now. The small motor was barely a match for it.
The fish kept pulling the boat sideways.
“The
pole’s holding up. The line’s holding up. Our only hope is to wear him down,”
Pike instructed as he wiped sweat off his face and onto his T-shirt. The
double-eyed cane pole showed amazing flexibility against the muskie’s weight. Griffy
didn’t know how much longer he could battle this monster. His arms ached. The
thought of winning that five-thousand-dollar prize and showing his dad was all
that kept him going.
Gil
seemed to have her own agenda. “I see bottom!” she yelled. She cut the motor,
grabbed the anchor’s rope, and jumped out of the boat.”
“Gil!
Are you crazy!” Pike screamed after her. “You’ll drown.”
“Will
not! I’ve got a life jacket on. Duh. I’m anchoring us on shore.”
She
took a couple determined steps through the shoulder-high water, but without the
pull of the motor fighting against it, the muskie was too strong. The fighting
fish pulled her and The Lucky 13 into
deeper water. Griffy noticed Gil treading water instead of walking. She
obviously couldn’t touch bottom anymore. The anchor looked like it weighed a
ton.
“Hold
on, Gil,” Griffy commanded. He passed the pole once again to Pike and readied
the oars.
Griffy
oared with all his might, trying to push The
Lucky 13 back to shallow water. With Gil kicking hard and fast, she was
soon able to stand again. She lowered her head and, with determination, began
dragging the anchor to shore. Griffy stopped oaring and instead used one of the
paddles as a wedge. Digging it into the lake’s bottom, he pushed off again and
again with as much force as he could muster. Gil struggled against the now
waste-high water, lunging herself closer and closer to shore.
****
Underwater,
less than seven feet from The Lucky 13,
the muskie whipped its head back and forth trying once more to dislodge the
lure implanted in its mouth. Go deep,
its instincts said. But the muskie couldn’t. The water was too shallow. Find a weed bed. But in this part of the
bay, the weeds weren’t plentiful enough for a five-foot, seventy-pound fish to
tangle itself up in. Get to open water.
But whatever had hold of it wasn’t letting that happen. Escape, its instincts cried out. Find a way to escape. Any way. So the muskie changed its tactics.
The massive beast turned away from the depths of Lost Land Lake and swam with
torpedolike speed toward the bottom of The
Lucky 13.
Buy Links: Amazon Kindle l Paperback l Barnes & Noble
Buy Links: Amazon Kindle l Paperback l Barnes & Noble
AUTHOR BIO
G. M. Moore is a
former newspaper writer and editor. She grew up exploring the lakes of northern
Wisconsin. During the summer months, this Chicago-area author can be found up
north and out on the lake. Snakehead Invasion is the third book in the Up North
Adventure series. You can learn more about her books at: http://www.upnorthadventure-series.com/jvbook/Home.html
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