Informationen zum Autor Beginning in fifth grade, DAN POBLOCKI would gather his friends after school, frightening them with tales of ghosts, monsters, and spooky places. When his mother began to receive phone calls from neighborhood parents, warning that her son's stories were giving their children nightmares, Dan decided to write the stories down instead. Dan now battles his own neighborhood monsters in Brooklyn, NY. Klappentext Timothy July has a secret. And it's giving him nightmares. Abigail Tremens has a problem. Her nightmares are haunting her . . . while she is awake. When they team up for a school project! they don't realize that Abigail's past and Timothy's present are making them the target of a terrible curse. A curse that turns their worst fears to reality. But their fears are just the beginning. The curse stems from a strange artifact that gains strength by devouring a human soul. And it needs to feed again. Dan Poblocki has honed his storytelling skills! as every page is filled with chills and thrills in this! his fast-paced second novel. The Nightmarys will have his readers mesmerized until the last page . . . and then sleeping with the lights on. Timothy July first noticed the jars lining the top shelf along the side of room 117 at the beginning of the school year, but by mid-April he'd still not looked closer. The specimens inside the jars had been pickled decades earlier in an opaque and yellowish liquid by some forgotten alumnus of Paul Revere Middle School. Over the years, most of the labels had faded or peeled away from the glass, and so the true identity of the strange multilegged worms, the twisted slimy bodies of mammalian fetuses, and the hollow exoskeletons of beetles would be left to the imaginations of those students who bothered to crane their necks and peer into the dusty heights of the classroom's shadowy wall. Until today, Timothy had taken no interest in them. No one had, not even Mr. Crane, Timothy's seventh-grade history teacher, over whose classroom the specimens watched silently and who was presently providing instruction for the next day's field trip. You'll work in pairs, said the teacher evenly, pacing in front of the long green chalkboard. Together, you will choose a single artifact to study. I want ten pages from the two of you, illustrated in the manner of your choice--collage, drawings, charts, graphs, whatever--describing where your artifact is from, how it compares to the art of the era, and how?.?.?. Timothy was not paying attention. Something in one of the jars was staring at him with a glassy black eye. Stuart Chen leaned across the aisle and nudged him. Timothy jumped. This is so lame, Stuart whispered. I thought field trips were supposed to be fun. I can't believe he's actually going to make us do work. Timothy glanced at his friend and distractedly grunted in agreement before turning back to the specimen in the jar. It's funny, he thought, how things that were once invisible suddenly become visible. The black-eyed creature continued to watch him, silent and unmoving, as if waiting for him to turn away so it could shift position?.?.?.?or maybe unscrew the lid. Timothy shuddered with the sudden thought that there might be countless other invisible things out there in the world that he'd never noticed before, watching him all the time. The whole idea is dumb, Stuart quietly droned on, speaking over Mr. Crane's speech. I mean, how are we supposed to know what to pick? Anything in the whole museum?.?.?.?? He glanced at Timothy. You're going to have to choose for us. I don't really care. Timothy nodded. I don't care either, he whispered. To his right, he heard a strange clicking sound. For a brief moment, he thought the thing in the jar had actually moved; then he quickly realized that the sound had not come from the shelves above but from ...

Autorentext
Beginning in fifth grade, DAN POBLOCKI would gather his friends after school, frightening them with tales of ghosts, monsters, and spooky places.  When his mother began to receive phone calls from neighborhood parents, warning that her son's stories were giving their children nightmares, Dan decided to write the stories down instead. Dan now battles his own neighborhood monsters in Brooklyn, NY.

Klappentext

Timothy July has a secret. And it's giving him nightmares.
Abigail Tremens has a problem. Her nightmares are haunting her . . . while she is awake.

When they team up for a school project, they don't realize that Abigail's past and Timothy's present are making them the target of a terrible curse. A curse that turns their worst fears to reality.

But their fears are just the beginning. The curse stems from a strange artifact that gains strength by devouring a human soul. And it needs to feed again.

Dan Poblocki has honed his storytelling skills, as every page is filled with chills and thrills in this, his fast-paced second novel. The Nightmarys will have his readers mesmerized until the last page . . . and then sleeping with the lights on.

Leseprobe
Timothy July first noticed the jars lining the top shelf along the side of room 117 at the beginning of the school year, but by mid-April he’d still not looked closer. The specimens inside the jars had been pickled decades earlier in an opaque and yellowish liquid by some forgotten alumnus of Paul Revere Middle School. Over the years, most of the labels had faded or peeled away from the glass, and so the true identity of the strange multilegged worms, the twisted slimy bodies of mammalian fetuses, and the hollow exoskeletons of beetles would be left to the imaginations of those students who bothered to crane their necks and peer into the dusty heights of the classroom’s shadowy wall.

Until today, Timothy had taken no interest in them. No one had, not even Mr. Crane, Timothy’s seventh-grade history teacher, over whose classroom the specimens watched silently and who was presently providing instruction for the next day’s field trip.

“You’ll work in pairs,” said the teacher evenly, pacing in front of the long green chalkboard. “Together, you will choose a single artifact to study. I want ten pages from the two of you, illustrated in the manner of your choice--collage, drawings, charts, graphs, whatever--describing where your artifact is from, how it compares to the art of the era, and how . . .”

Timothy was not paying attention. Something in one of the jars was staring at him with a glassy black eye.

Stuart Chen leaned across the aisle and nudged him. Timothy jumped. “This is so lame,” Stuart whispered. “I thought field trips were supposed to be fun. I can’t believe he’s actually going to make us do work.”

Timothy glanced at his friend and distractedly grunted in agreement before turning back to the specimen in the jar. It’s funny, he thought, how things that were once invisible suddenly become visible. The black-eyed creature continued to watch him, silent and unmoving, as if waiting for him to turn away so it could shift position . . . or maybe unscrew the lid. Timothy shuddered with the sudden thought that there might be countless other invisible things out there in the world that he’d never noticed before, watching him all the time.

“The whole idea is dumb,” Stuart quietly droned on, speaking over Mr. Crane’s speech. “I mean, how are we supposed to know what to pick? Anything in the whole museum . . . ?” He glanced at Timothy. “You’re going to have to choose for us. I don’t really care.”

Timothy nodded. “I don’t care either,” he whispered.

To his right, he heard a strange clicking sound. For a brief moment, he thought the thing in the jar had actually moved; t…