Quote

What does it feel like to get shot? I don't recommend it, said Nellie in a controlled voice. Chocolate is definitely better.

Gordon Korman

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Gordon Korman
Age: 61
Born: 1963
Born: October 23
Author
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Montreal
Quebec
Like
Shot
Shots
Definitely
Voice
Doe
Nellie
Better
Recommend
Feel
Chocolate
Feels
Controlled

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Dan instantly recognized the angry scratch that stretched from the corner of Ian's eye all the way along the olive skin to his chin. Have you been messing with Saladin? No. Saladin has been messing with me, Ian shot back. He isn't big on Lucians, Dan explained. Animals are really good judges of character.
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Ian Kabra rolled up his window. My god, what's that smell? Behind the wheel, Sinead laughed. It's called fresh air. Growing up in London, you've probably never breathed it before. And I hope I never breathe it again.
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Yeah! shouted Jonah, twirling the much larger Hamilton around the restaurant in a victory dance. The other diners watched in amazement. This wild display was hardly the public image of the too-cool-for-school Jonah Wizard. What's the matter? Hamilton challenged. Haven't you ever seen a happy rapper before?
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We don't have to love it. We just have to steal it.
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Jonah spoke what everyone was thinking. Wouldn't it be Twilight Zone if the door was open, too? Hamilton tried the knob. It didn't budge. Ian stepped forward and examined the lock. Natalie's diary has better security than this. He produced a credit card and slipped it between the latch and the jamb. There was a click, and the door swung wi
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Jonah peered critically up at the Renaissance masterpiece. Man, those copies don't due it justice. This one's the truth! Only a Janus, groaned Hamilton.
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Slime him, sis, Dan urged, Make him a redcoat.
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Where's Amy? Ian put in. Will you please get her to call that Evan character? He rings here twenty times a day. He's either the most mule-headed person who ever lived, or he really likes your sister. She has to have mercy on him–on all of us!
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Amy hugged Sinead, and Dan scratched Saladin. Later, Saladin. Take it easy on Kabra. On second thought, don't.
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Who's that new guy with the snooty accent who came out and talked to the police? Evan persisted. He looks like some kind of male model. That's just my cousin Ian, Amy explained. Not much of a family resemblance, Evan noted sourly. He's like a twenty-fifth cousin, ten times removed. Evan was not satisfied.
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No fair! Those guys ripped off what we rightfully stole!
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Don't think of it as losing a boyfriend. Think of it as gaining a stalker. -Dan Cahill
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I hate France. It's like the whole country's on a diet
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Dan was suspicious. How did he find out where we were staying? Amy frowned. I think that's the message inside the message. He wants us to know that he has a long reach–that's he's rich and powerful. Like we'll see his giant mansion and assume he works at Burger King, scoffed Dan.
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Ask me. I'm a cow expert.
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They crested a rise, and there it was, in the hollow between rolling hills—a low, square building, ghostly gray in the moonlight. Is that it? asked Hamilton. It probably isn't the local opera house, groaned Ian.
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When we lock things away, he said with conviction, we're really imprisoning ourselves.
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