RUBY CRANE IS a rising star. At 15, she sold her first book, got a movie deal, scored the hottest guy in school, and became the most popular student at Frasier High. Now, as a soon-to-be junior and published author, she's ready to make waves in New York's literary world. But every star falls back to earth one day. Ruby's accused of plagiarism - on national television. And the worst part is that the proof of her literary lies is indisputable.
Her friends won't return her phone calls. Her boyfriend's gone AWOL. The media vultures are flying low, and they want answers. So Ruby does what any self-respecting headline would do. She disappears. And that's when her story really begins.
From the Trade Paperback edition.
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|Title of eBook: Kiss My Book|
|Release Date: 09-11-2007|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: Random House Children's Books|
This eBook download is available in the following formats:
|Parent title||Kiss My Book|
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Kiss My Book
I Am Famous
My English teacher asked me for an autograph.
It was June 12, exactly two weeks before the end of the school year. The sixth-period bell had just rung and I was reaching into my bag for a notebook and a pen when a shadow fell across my corner of the grimy cafeteria table. Startled, I looked up. Then I blinked. Twice. Old Mrs. Gallagher was standing over me, stylishly dressed in one of her usual calf-length checkered dresses buttoned tightly at the neck. And she was smiling.
“Ruby, would you do me the honor?” she asked in a shockingly sugary tone.
I glanced down and saw that both of her arms were outstretched; her left hand held a black ballpoint pen, and in her right was a hardcover copy of my first novel, The Heart Stealer. It was a sobering sight, because the book had landed in stores only a few days earlier. I didn’t think anyone aside from the members of my immediate family had bought it. Yet. There had been a few ads in magazines and a mention of the book on one of the early-morning talk shows, but I wasn’t expecting instant recognition.
“Oh,” I replied. I think I even gasped. “I . . . uh . . . of course. Yes. Sure.”
“Take your time with the inscription,” she said gently. “I’m sure no one will mind if you get to your next class a little late today.”
I reached out and took the pen. I laid the book—my book, complete with a glossy cover and my name in bright block letters across the top—down on the table. I felt my cheeks blush. All around me, the cafeteria went silent. Students who would have otherwise bolted for the double doors were