The third book in the middle grade series that''s part After leaving the Sanguine Spa in pursuit of Edgaren''t, the kids find themselves at a mysterious summer camp, Camp Creek. There are lake games, happy counselors, and there''s even a tie-dye cabin. It''s all very... ; But if Theo and Alexander know one thing, it''s that normal doesn''t always mean good. When everyone around her starts acting strange, Theo wonders if maybe the fumes from the tie-dye cabin are seeping into their ; The third book in <New York Times< bestselling author Kiersten White''s Sinister Summer series continues the adventures of the Sinister-Winterbottoms and their aunt who never saw a discount vacation destination she didn’t love.

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Kiersten White has never been a lifeguard, camp counselor, or spa masseuse, but she is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than twenty books, including Wretched Waterpark, the first book in the Sinister Summer series, and Beanstalker and Other Hilarious Scarytales. She lives with her family near the beach and keeps all her secrets safely buried in her backyard, where they are guarded by a ferocious tortoise named Kimberly.

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Klappentext

The third book in the middle-grade series that's part Scooby-Doo, part A Series of Unfortunate Events, and entirely genius! Follow the Sinister-Winterbottoms on their most outrageous adventure yet, when they find themselves at a normal summer camp!

After leaving the Sanguine Spa in pursuit of Edgaren't, the kids find themselves at a mysterious summer camp, Camp Creek. There are lake games and happy counselors, and there's even a tie-dye cabin. It's all very . . . normal.

But if Theo and Alexander know one thing, it's that normal doesn't always mean good. When everyone around her starts acting strange, Theo wonders if maybe the fumes from the tie-dye cabin are seeping into their brains, and she resolves to investigate what's really going on at Camp Creek.   

The third book in #1 New York Times bestselling author Kiersten White's Sinister Summer series continues the adventures of the Sinister-Winterbottoms and their aunt, who never saw a discount vacation destination she didn’t love.

Leseprobe
One

The Sinister-Winterbottoms had a problem.

Well, they had several problems. Their parents had dropped them off with a previously unknown--and seriously weird--aunt in the middle of the night and then disappeared. Sixteen-year-old Wil, twelve-year-old Theo, and also twelve-year-old Alexander had not heard from their parents once since then, other than a frustratingly vague letter.

There was a man with small, mean eyes and a large, mean mustache who kept turning up where they didn’t want him. Which, to be fair, was a long list of places. Basically everywhere imaginable was a place they didn’t want to see Edgaren’t. The only places they might be happy to see him were: behind bars, in a pit with unclimbable walls, or at the DMV, a terrible place adults went to be tormented.

They had first met Edgaren’t and his large, mean mustache at Fathoms of Fun Waterpark, where he had tried to steal the whole park. Then again at the Sanguine Spa, where he succeeded in stealing a locked book with their name on it. And there was a chance Edgaren’t had been intending to steal them as well.

Currently, they were on their way to a camp where he might be lurking, which had seemed important when they left. Track him down, get their book back, and find out why their former friend Quincy was helping him. Somehow, especially to Alexander, going where they knew Edgaren’t might be didn’t feel like the best idea now that it was actually happening.

But, even with this abundance of problems, there was one problem that was quickly leaping to the top of their already-high problem pile: Aunt Saffronia’s car wasn’t working. More specifically, it seemed to be . . . disappearing.

“This car wasn’t a convertible when we got in, was it?” Theo stared upward in consternation, a word she liked because it was like confusion had populated an entire nation. There had definitely been a normal, solid car roof above them at the beginning of the drive. And now there was only sky.

“That’s weird,” Alexander said.

“Which part?” Theo answered, gesturing to everything around them.

“No wind.”

He had a point. There was no breeze. It was like they were sealed in against the world. But the boundaries of that seal were dissolving. Even the windows seemed less solid than they had a few minutes before.

Theo was very brave--sometimes to the point of being reckless, though she was trying to be reckful whenever possible now--but she drew the line at speeding down a lonely, empty forest road in a car that wasn’t sure whether or not it wanted to keep existing.

“It was not a convertible when we got in.” Alexander was sure of it. He wouldn’t have gotten into a convertible, worrying that there was no roof above him if the car were to flip or if an aggressive hawk were to take a liking to his hair. He had nice hair, always neatly parted and combed, and he could imagine exactly what it would feel like for a hawk to sink its greedy talons in.

Unlike his twin, he was not very brave, and never reckless or even reckful, preferring tremendous caution in all things. He was thoughtful and careful and deeply, deeply worried. As a default, but particularly at the current moment.

It had been bad enough heading toward a camp where Edgaren’t might be waiting for them. Worse, too, that Alexander suspected it was the same camp he had seen a book about. A book entitled A History of Summer Camps and the Unexplained Disappearances of Various Campers in the Mountainous Lake Regions. Worst that they were doing it in a car that wasn’t dependable.

Their dad knew a lot about mechanics on account of building battle robots in their garage all the time. He would agree that a dependable car had a reliable engine in good working order and a body that didn’t disappear at random.

Alexander watched the mountainous landscape with dread, waiting for a lake to appear. He should have broken rules for once and aggressively borrowed that book from the Sanguine Spa library. At least then he’d know what they were getting into. Surely their friend Mina, who owned the spa now thanks to their help, wouldn’t have held it against him.

Sometimes reading was a necessary survival skill. And Alexander really wanted to survive.

Wil should have had an opinion about the state of the car, but she was too busy staring at Rodrigo. Rodrigo, its case covered in shiny stickers, was her constant companion. But it was the shine of its screen that held a magnetic grip on both Wil’s eyes and her brain.

“Here, twerp,” she said, holding her hand out. “Let me be in charge of the keys to the books until we find them.”

Alexander was more than happy to relinquish the ring of tiny keys he had gotten from Lucy’s nest. Holding on to the keys meant being responsible for them, and even though he was the most responsible twelve-year-old possibly in existence, he didn’t want to be responsible for something so important.

“About the car,” he said, hoping Aunt Saffronia would reassure them. But instead, as though triggered by their doubts, the car drifted to a stop.

“What’s wrong?” Alexander asked. They were surrounded by towering trees so green they were nearly black. The road beneath them was cracked with disuse. It didn’t look like anyone was around for miles and miles.

Aunt Saffronia stayed in the dri…