{"product_id":"montgomery-bonbon-sabotage-at-sea-isbn-9781536241716","title":"Montgomery Bonbon: Sabotage at Sea","description":"\u003cb\u003eAs the witty murder-mystery series continues, Bonbon returns for a pyrotechnic display aboard ship—until a shocking demise puts a damper on the festivities. \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShenanigans are once again afoot in the town of Widdlington, and this time they're on board the \u003ci\u003eDreadnowt\u003c\/i\u003e—a galleon that’s set to host a fireworks display for the town. Bonnie Montgomery and Grampa Banks are on board as guests, but just after sundown, a fog rolls in and a terrible cry is heard over the crash of the waves. Captain Valancourt stumbles out of the mist, dripping wet and covered in red welts the like of which a sea monster would leave behind, and is soon pronounced dead by the doctor on board. The crowd is shocked, and Bonnie's fishy-o-meter is off the charts. While Inspector Sands takes over as captain, Bonnie transforms into Montgomery Bonbon, and it’s not long before she’s laid anchor on her prime suspects. Can Montgomery Bonbon hoist his moustache and figure out which scallywag is responsible for the death of the ancient mariner?\u003cb\u003eAlasdair Beckett-King\u003c\/b\u003e is an award-winning comedian and writer. Since studying at the London Film School, he has performed critically lauded solo shows at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, written for BBC radio, appeared on comedy panel shows such as \u003ci\u003eMock the Week\u003c\/i\u003e, cowritten an award-winning video game, and created numerous viral sketches for social media, including an interactive whodunit. Alasdair Beckett-King lives in southeast London.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eClaire Powell\u003c\/b\u003e is a best-selling children’s book maker, character designer, and illustrator who started out designing for television brands. She is the illustrator of \u003ci\u003eThe Night Before the Night Before Christmas\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eThe Night after Christmas \u003c\/i\u003eby Kes Gray and \u003ci\u003eThe Wizard and Me \u003c\/i\u003eby Simon Farnaby.  She has also illustrated books for Jeanne Willis, Peter Bently, and Michelle Robinson. Claire Powell lives in England.\u003cb\u003eChapter One: Grimmfire Night\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003eThe fate of Captain Nicodemus Grimm was no mystery.\u003cbr\u003eCaptain Grimm died in 1702, when his infamous ship, the \u003ci\u003eDreadnowt\u003c\/i\u003e, exploded in Widdlemouth Harbor. His lifelong habit of chewing flint caught up with him, forty minutes into his final voyage, when he set light to his own gunpowder store and doomed the \u003ci\u003eDreadnowt’s \u003c\/i\u003eentire crew. They say the explosion was so loud that the locals in the harbor tavern seriously considered looking out the window.\u003cbr\u003eThe fireball was reported to be one hundred feet tall, and the bowsprit (which is the pointy wooden bit at the front of a ship) shot clean off. It flew fifteen miles before landing in Roffle Woods. There it remained, warning the other trees of the danger of going to sea.\u003cbr\u003eIn the years that followed, Widdlemouth Harbor was renamed—after someone eventually said the name out loud—but Captain Grimm was not forgotten. Every year, the people of the lovely town of Widdlington (and the neighboring but less nice town of Widdling-on-Sea) paid tribute to the captain’s terrible demise by celebrating Grimmfire Night. They gathered on Widdlington Historic Quay to enjoy bonfires, live music, and hopefully-not-alive hot dogs.\u003cbr\u003e“It’s what old Grimm would have wanted,” the locals told one another, quite inaccurately.\u003cbr\u003eEveryone agreed that \u003ci\u003ethis year’s\u003c\/i\u003e Grimmfire Night was going to be something special. For Bonnie Montgomery, it was going to be unforgettable. After all, her mom was in charge of the fireworks.\u003cbr\u003eThe lazy sun hung low in the sky, looking forward to knocking off for the evening, as Bonnie darted nimbly through the crowds on the quayside. She was followed by her Grampa Banks, who was attempting to eat a huge cloud of cotton candy without making a mess of his dandy sport jacket or the vintage camera around his neck.\u003cbr\u003eThe quay (pronounced \u003ci\u003ekey\u003c\/i\u003e, apparently) was surrounded by aged buildings of yellow and pink sandstone. Bonnie passed the tavern, the jailhouse, and the store where Harbormaster Sandy Futtocks sold all the essentials for a long sea voyage: fridge magnets, funny hats, and postcards that Grampa Banks wouldn’t let Bonnie get a close look at.\u003cbr\u003eClutching her yellow backpack, Bonnie dodged around rusty anchors, antique cannons, and those informative signs they put up to teach visitors that the golden age of sail involved a lot less gold and a lot more kidnapping than you would have hoped. She skipped lightly down a flight of stone steps and onto a sun-bleached boardwalk, which led off toward the twinkling lights of Widdlington Pier’s amusement rides. But Bonnie could not think about tilting on the Tilt-A-Whirl nor bumping in the bumper cars tonight.\u003cbr\u003e“This way!” Bonnie called over her shoulder.\u003cbr\u003e“Coming,” replied Grampa Banks, just as a seagull made off with his cotton candy. “Why, you cheeky devil!”\u003cbr\u003eBonnie could scarcely believe it. She was about to board a REAL pirate ship. There in front of her, as the sunset turned the waters of the North Sea bronze, was the \u003ci\u003eDreadnowt\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003cbr\u003eThe ship was a hulking black silhouette against the sky, draped with seaweed and pockled with barnacles all the way from its prow to a row of five elaborately filigreed windows on its back end. The vessel was bigger than Bonnie had expected, and taut rigging creaked overhead as it rocked gently on the tide. Bonnie knew that every knobbly, nasty part of a ship had its own name, but she was not sure exactly what those names were. She was only aware of the funny ones: the booby hatch and the poop deck.\u003cbr\u003eNevertheless, spending Grimmfire Night aboard the \u003ci\u003eDreadnowt \u003c\/i\u003ehad been Bonnie’s lifelong dream, ever since she had heard about it earlier that week.\u003cbr\u003eOf course, the ship taking Bonnie’s breath away was not actually the real \u003ci\u003eDreadnowt\u003c\/i\u003e. That would have been impossible. The original ship was at the bottom of the harbor in more pieces than a family-size bucket from Beverley Fried Chicken. The pride of Widdlington Historic Quay was a reconstruction of Nicodemus Grimm’s lost vessel. It may not have been a perfect copy—the original ship probably did not have a disco ball—but it looked ever so real to Bonnie.\u003cbr\u003e“Ahoy, me hearties and so forth!” came a very familiar, very posh voice from the deck. “Avast and blow the man down, et cetera!”\u003cbr\u003eIt was Bonnie’s friend Dana Hornville. Dana leaned over the bulwarks with a pirate’s spyglass in one hand. With the other hand, she gave a very serious, very nautical-looking salute. Bonnie returned the salute, and they both grinned stupidly.\u003cbr\u003eDana was a handy friend to have. Not because she tended to dress like a vampire at the seaside, but because she knew so much about . . . well, everything.\u003cbr\u003eShe knew a lot about history—or about dead people, at least.\u003cbr\u003eShe had a head full of obscure facts, and she was rather good at talking to VIPs. Which is exactly what Bonnie was today: a Very Important Personage. Bonnie and her grandfather were special guests aboard the \u003ci\u003eDreadnowt\u003c\/i\u003e. They were big cheeses, for once, and Bonnie planned to enjoy it.\u003cbr\u003eA gangplank stretched from the boardwalk to the ship, with tarry old ropes dangling from it. Bonnie bounded up the slope toward the bustling deck, her feet drumming on the wood. Grampa Banks followed.\u003cbr\u003e“Y’know, it’s not nearly as wobbly as it—\u003ci\u003ewhoops\u003c\/i\u003e!” he said, steadying himself with his cane and narrowly avoiding a dip in the harbor.\u003cbr\u003eBonnie reached the top of the plank and ran—\u003ci\u003esmack\u003c\/i\u003e!—into a red tailcoat.\u003cbr\u003eWhen she had recovered from the impact, she looked up and found herself staring into a face that could easily have belonged to Nicodemus Grimm himself. It had sharp eyes and one of those cavalier beards that come in three separate, equally pointy parts.\u003cbr\u003eBonnie staggered back. She bumped into Grampa Banks at the top of the gangplank and clung on tight to keep him from pitching over the side.\u003cbr\u003e“Miss Montgomery and Mr. Banks?” said the man with the beard and the tailcoat. He smelled musty, with a dusting of cinnamon—like an old spice barrel after a long ocean crossing.\u003cbr\u003e“Captain Roger Valancourt, at your service,” he said.\u003cbr\u003eCaptain Valancourt’s voice was dark and syrupy, like the soft-center chocolates Bonnie’s mom liked.\u003cbr\u003eHe removed his wide-brimmed hat with a cinnamon swish and gave a low bow. Bonnie could tell that Grampa Banks was as taken aback as she was. No one had ever been \u003ci\u003eat their service\u003c\/i\u003e before. Was this the life of a big cheese?\u003cbr\u003e“Well, uh . . . thank you, Your . . . Majesty,” Grampa Banks managed to say, fumbling with his flat cap.\u003cbr\u003e“Welcome aboard,” said Captain Valancourt, immediately turning his attention to another pair of cheeses coming up the gangplank behind them. With one dismissive motion, he swept Bonnie and Grampa Banks onto the ship and returned his hat to his head.","brand":"Candlewick","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":48233401647333,"sku":"NP9781536241716","price":9.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9781536241716.jpg?v=1767732942","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/montgomery-bonbon-sabotage-at-sea-isbn-9781536241716","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}