If you enjoy stories filled with intrigue, mystery, and a dash of the supernatural, then HL Carpenter’s The Ghost in the Gardens about a ten year old girl trying to ignore an intrusive ghost haunting her while attempting to find a rare orchid without trying to get killed may be just up your alley.
So
what’s my take on a story that’s all about a determined tween girl trying to solve the mystery of her
teacher’s disappearance and discover a rare orchid? This is what I posted on
Amazon and Goodreads…
A 4 Star Bouquet of Flowers for The
Ghost in the Gardens…
A
perfect read for middle graders who are drawn to ghosts, mystery, and anything
that goes bump in the night, or in this case, the garden. I found this
well-written story filled with enough conflict to keep it going and growing
(pun intended) with plenty of cliffhangers at the end of each chapter.
Chrysantha
Howe dreams of being a botanist when she grows up, and is true to her nature
with her knowledge of plants and flowers. Haunted from the get-go by a pesky
ghost while searching for the illusive Coralroot orchid doesn’t deter the
resilient tween. Chrys, her best friend, and a boy dubbed ‘the Nuisance’ face
many obstacles and dangers throughout the book while learning to work together
as a team to bring justice to their small town community.
In
a nutshell, HL Carpenter works her storytelling magic, and is not afraid of
getting her hands dirty from the very first chapter!
About the Book:
All.
The.
Time.
She has her future planned out, and that future includes
plants. Chrys is going to be a plant scientist like her uncle and her favorite
teacher, and she's determined to find the very rare Coralroot orchid.
The ghost is not in the plan.
But when her teacher disappears and the police suspect her
uncle was involved, Chrys has to figure out what the ghost is trying to tell
her—before it's too late.
Read an Excerpt:
I
tugged Barkley's ear and picked up one of the quarter-size flat stones
scattered beside the path. I tossed the stone into the deep end of the Water
Garden pond.
Barkley
scrambled to the bank, then yipped and jumped back, almost jerking the leash
from my hand. The ruff on his neck rose straight up. He stared at the pond, his
lips curled, his teeth bared.
I
gripped the red plastic leash more tightly.
The
ghost liked water.
Barkley
growled.
In
the pond, twin black shafts of water shifted into the wavy outline of feminine
eyes. Pale lips, reed-thin and white as unearthed slugs, parted. The lips tried
to form a word. A gurgle rose from the depths like a deep sigh.
"Daaaaay...daaaay..."
Bubbles
roiled the surface of the water.
Barkley
growled again. Then he barked, as if to prove the ghost hadn't silenced him.
I
tried to speak, to ask the ghost what she wanted. My tongue clung to the roof
of my mouth. My lips moved in a quivery jiggle as if I were silently whistling.
But I could not force out a sound, much less a whole question.
Maybe
if I could think a question, the ghost and I could
communicate. Maybe she didn't need actual words to hear me and to answer.
I
tipped forward. My glasses slipped down my nose. I wanted to ask
her...something...something...important...
What
would touching her feel like?
I
stretched out my hand.
The
buzz of a bee snapped me out of my trance. I scrambled back as the edge of the
bank crumbled under my foot. The ghost vanished.
I had the
future planned out.
The ghost
was not in the plan.
After the
first visit, I still didn't really believe in ghosts. But when she came back
the second time, I had to change my mind. I hadn't been dreaming and I wasn't
crazy. The only other alternative was: I had seen a ghost.
I started
researching ghost visitations. What made them stick around in this world? How
did they choose who to haunt? Why had no one ever caught a legitimate sighting
on video or made a recording?
Mostly
what I learned was that people argued a lot about whether ghosts existed.
People who believed in ghosts liked other people who believed in ghosts. People
who didn't believe in ghosts thought people who did were crazy.
I was not
crazy.
Finding
out the answers to my questions about ghosts should have been easy. I had my
own personal ghost to ask. But every time she visited me, I couldn't say a
word. My thoughts got all tangled and my breath stuck in my throat and I got
dizzy. Having my own personal ghost was not helpful. The visits were...creepy.
Like are-you-here-because-I'm-going-to-die creepy. Maybe the creep factor was
why no one had ever documented a ghost.
I
shivered, though I hadn't seen the ghost in hours and cheerful sunlight warmed
the early June morning. The Water Garden, a magical green fairyland of
trickling streams and arched bridges, closed in around me. Shadows shifted.
Bushes rustled.
I'd never
seen a ghost before, not even when my dad died. Why had one decided to haunt me
now?
"Just
lucky, I guess," I said. "What do you think, Barkley?"
My
long-legged Schnauzer scratched his ear with his hind foot.
"That's
what I think too."
I tugged
Barkley's ear and picked up one of the quarter-size flat stones scattered
beside the path. I tossed the stone into the deep end of the Water Garden pond.
Barkley
scrambled to the bank, then yipped and jumped back, almost jerking the leash
from my hand. The ruff on his neck rose straight up. He stared at the pond, his
lips curled, his teeth bared.
I gripped
the red plastic leash more tightly.
The ghost
liked water.
Barkley
growled.
In the
pond, twin black shafts of water shifted into the wavy outline of feminine
eyes. Pale lips, reed-thin and white as unearthed slugs, parted. The lips tried
to form a word. A gurgle rose from the depths like a deep sigh.
"Daaaaay...daaaay..."
Bubbles
roiled the surface of the water.
Barkley
growled again. Then he barked, as if to prove the ghost hadn't silenced him.
I tried
to speak, to ask the ghost what she wanted. My tongue clung to the roof of my
mouth. My lips moved in a quivery jiggle as if I were silently whistling. But I
could not force out a sound, much less a whole question.
Maybe if
I could think a question, the ghost and I could communicate. Maybe she didn't
need actual words to hear me and to answer.
I tipped
forward. My glasses slipped down my nose. I wanted to ask
her...something...something...important...
What
would touching her feel like?
I
stretched out my hand.
Book Details:
Genre: Middle Grade Paranormal Mystery
Page Count: 152 pages
Publisher: Mirror World Publishing (http://www.mirrorworldpublishing.com/)
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/40072894-the-ghost-in-the-gardens
Order Links:
Mirror World Publishing: Ebook Paperback
Meet the Author:
Florida-based mother/daughter author duo HL Carpenter
writes family-friendly fiction. The Carpenters
write from their studios in
Carpenter Country, a magical place that, like their stories, is unreal but not
untrue. When they’re not writing, the Carpenters enjoy exploring the Land of
What-If and practicing the fine art of Curiosity.
Connect with HL Carpenter:
Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5820921.H_L_Carpenter
