A father?A son?and the dragon they became. One head: Malevolent, attired in barbs and spines, took pleasure in decimating the forested village.Avery, formerly White Boar, wanders the forests seeking forgiveness from the people he sold into slavery, but is repentance payment enough? Righteous, with two horns on each side, tried to calm the evil one's violent ambition.More servant than son, Jonathan Gudwyne had been powerless to stop his father from taking the Men of the Forest into captivity. As a man, White Wolf reverses the damage he and his father caused by returning the Natives home. Jonathan gains honor and worship, but what does he do with the remains of his past? Justice has yet to be served to the dragon. Should Jonathan be the one who administers the sentence to his wandering father? To himself? The two heads formed Brinsop, whose iron talons wrought chaos?. Can a man change? Can a broken family be made whole again? If one head is destroyed can the other survive?
A sweet and clever friendship story in rhyme, about looking past physical differences to appreciate the person (or dragon) underneath. George and Blaise are pen pals, and they write letters to each other about everything: their pets, birthdays, favorite sports, and science fair projects. There’s just one thing that the two friends don’t know: George is a human, while Blaise is a dragon! What will happen when these pen pals finally meet face-to-face? "When I was a kid, my best friend was Josh Funk. Now he's becoming a friend to a whole new generation.”--B.J. Novak, author of The New York Times bestseller The Book With No Pictures
“Bryan Davis writes with the scope of Tolkien, the focus of Lewis, the grandeur of Verne, and most of all the heart of Christ.” —Jeremiah F., reader A boy with fiery breath . . . a girl with dragon wings . . . Outcasts Billy and Bonnie must come together to preserve a secret legacy more than a millennium in the making. They find their lives turned upside down when they are thrust into a war against evil, a war they didn’t even know was being waged. Their newly formed friendship is tested and shaped as they are forced to fight a malevolent slayer who wields a powerful, medieval weapon and is intent on exterminating their dragon heritage forever. Raising Dragons is a hair-raising, modern-day Arthurian adventure and a glimpse into another world filled with knights, dragons, and fair maidens fighting to destroy evil.
This imaginative journey through the alphabet teaches all the sound(s) made by each letter. With delightful characters such as dragons, elves, and hedgehogs students giggle their way through the ABCs. Toddlers and preschoolers often beg for the book to be read again spontaneously repeating the phonogram sounds laying the groundwork to become a strong reader and speller. Children ages 0-3 are developmentally tuned to the sound(s) of the language spoken around them. Young children are drawn to Doodling Dragons and desire to hear it read again and again while they mimic each sound. This provides not only an outstanding foundation for literacy skills but aids children in developing the building blocks for spoken language. Children ages 4-7 delight in hearing the sample words for each of the A-Z phonograms. By hearing and seeing their application within words, students develop phonemic awareness, or an understanding of how sounds combine to form words. Students also delight in the silly examples which provide another memory tool for mastering difficult sounds such as the /ü/ in "püt the bütcher in the püdding"
NATIONAL BESTSELLER "Destined to become an adventure classic." —Anchorage Daily News Hailed as "gripping" (New York Times) and "beautiful" (Washington Post), The Adventurer's Son is Roman Dial’s extraordinary and widely acclaimed account of his two-year quest to unravel the mystery of his son’s disappearance in the jungles of Costa Rica. In the predawn hours of July 10, 2014, the twenty-seven-year-old son of preeminent Alaskan scientist and National Geographic Explorer Roman Dial, walked alone into Corcovado National Park, an untracked rainforest along Costa Rica’s remote Pacific Coast that shelters miners, poachers, and drug smugglers. He carried a light backpack and machete. Before he left, Cody Roman Dial emailed his father: “I am not sure how long it will take me, but I’m planning on doing 4 days in the jungle and a day to walk out. I’ll be bounded by a trail to the west and the coast everywhere else, so it should be difficult to get lost forever.” They were the last words Dial received from his son. As soon as he realized Cody Roman’s return date had passed, Dial set off for Costa Rica. As he trekked through the dense jungle, interviewing locals and searching for clues—the authorities suspected murder—the desperate father was forced to confront the deepest questions about himself and his own role in the events. Roman had raised his son to be fearless, to be at home in earth’s wildest places, travelling together through rugged Alaska to remote Borneo and Bhutan. Was he responsible for his son’s fate? Or, as he hoped, was Cody Roman safe and using his wilderness skills on a solo adventure from which he would emerge at any moment? Part detective story set in the most beautiful yet dangerous reaches of the planet, The Adventurer’s Son emerges as a far deeper tale of discovery—a journey to understand the truth about those we love the most. The Adventurer’s Son includes fifty black-and-white photographs.
Hunter S. Thompson, “smart hillbilly,” boy of the South, born and bred in Louisville, Kentucky, son of an insurance salesman and a stay-at-home mom, public school-educated, jailed at seventeen on a bogus petty robbery charge, member of the U.S. Air Force (Airmen Second Class), copy boy for Time, writer for The National Observer, et cetera. From the outset he was the Wild Man of American journalism with a journalistic appetite that touched on subjects that drove his sense of justice and intrigue, from biker gangs and 1960s counterculture to presidential campaigns and psychedelic drugs. He lived larger than life and pulled it up around him in a mad effort to make it as electric, anger-ridden, and drug-fueled as possible. Now Juan Thompson tells the story of his father and of their getting to know each other during their forty-one fraught years together. He writes of the many dark times, of how far they ricocheted away from each other, and of how they found their way back before it was too late. He writes of growing up in an old farmhouse in a narrow mountain valley outside of Aspen—Woody Creek, Colorado, a ranching community with Hereford cattle and clover fields . . . of the presence of guns in the house, the boxes of ammo on the kitchen shelves behind the glass doors of the country cabinets, where others might have placed china and knickknacks . . . of climbing on the back of Hunter’s Bultaco Matador trail motorcycle as a young boy, and father and son roaring up the dirt road, trailing a cloud of dust . . . of being taken to bars in town as a small boy, Hunter holding court while Juan crawled around under the bar stools, picking up change and taking his found loot to Carl’s Pharmacy to buy Archie comic books . . . of going with his parents as a baby to a Ken Kesey/Hells Angels party with dozens of people wandering around the forest in various stages of undress, stoned on pot, tripping on LSD . . . He writes of his growing fear of his father; of the arguments between his parents reaching frightening levels; and of his finally fighting back, trying to protect his mother as the state troopers are called in to separate father and son. And of the inevitable—of mother and son driving west in their Datsun to make a new home, a new life, away from Hunter; of Juan’s first taste of what “normal” could feel like . . . We see Juan going to Concord Academy, a stranger in a strange land, coming from a school that was a log cabin in the middle of hay fields, Juan without manners or socialization . . . going on to college at Tufts; spending a crucial week with his father; Hunter asking for Juan’s opinion of his writing; and he writes of their dirt biking on a hilltop overlooking Woody Creek Valley, acting as if all the horrible things that had happened between them had never taken place, and of being there, together, side by side . . . And finally, movingly, he writes of their long, slow pull toward reconciliation . . . of Juan’s marriage and the birth of his own son; of watching Hunter love his grandson and Juan’s coming to understand how Hunter loved him; of Hunter’s growing illness, and Juan’s becoming both son and father to his father . . .
