At long last, Rachel's powers have arrived and she's a bona fide get-your-broom-ready witch! And it's happened just in time. No Manhattan for her this summer—she's spending her vacation at Camp Wood Lake.
But she's having some serious issues:
Mosquitoes in the Adirondacks are incredibly thirsty.
Her stepmom keeps sending embarrassing feminine hygiene care packages.
She accidentally zapped away all her clothes.
And there's a backstabber in her cabin intent on making life miserable.
Good thing Rachel's a witch.
From the Hardcover edition.
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|Title of eBook: Spells & Sleeping Bags||Series: Magic In Manhattan, , #3|
|Release Date: 05-27-2008|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: Random House Children's Books|
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|Parent title||Spells & Sleeping Bags|
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Spells & Sleeping Bags
I'm pretty sure my camp backpack is not supposed to be levitating off the sidewalk of Fifth Avenue. Whoopsies. I make a (somewhat) discreet lunge for one of its red straps and plant it back next to my feet.
My mother, who is fortunately too busy eyeing the parked camp buses lining the street to notice my infraction, asks, "Do you know where you're going?"
"Yes, Mom," my sister says, rolling her eyes. "We know how to read. We're both on the same bus. The sign says 'Girls grades seven thru nine,' and since that's both of us, that's where we're going. Unfortunately."
Miri is not happy about being shipped off to Camp Wood Lake in the Adirondacks for seven weeks. She'd much rather stay in the city, free to spend the summer as she pleases, helping the homeless. That's her cause du jour. Unfortunately for her, she can't help the homeless when she is being sent to a summer camp filled with spoiled rich kids. Those are her words, not mine. I'm perfectly happy to spend the summer with spoiled rich kids. No, wait. That didn't come out right. What I mean is I'm perfectly happy to be going to camp, because I'm perfectly happy doing anything these days. Deliriously happy. Jumping-on-couches-like-they're-trampolines happy.
Why? Because I'm finally a witch!
No, not witch as in mean or cranky. I don't pull my sister's hair or rip off her Barbies' heads. (Not that either of us still has Barbies. Okay, fine. Not that I still play with them. Sure, they're in a bag at the back of my closet, and I sometimes take them out just to see how they're doing, but that's it, I swear.) I have powers, like Hermione and Sabrina. Like my sister. And my mother.