Incurable (The Ellie Chronicles #2)
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Ellie Linton is a survivor. Because she's honest. Because she's loyal. Because she's incurably brave. And because sometimes she's lucky.
But what happens to survivors when their luck runs out?
Packed full of action and human drama, John Marsden's Incurable delivers another fast-paced adventure that will thrill old fans and new readers like.
in Stratton and my mother had bought all the stuff we needed, all the boring stuff, and I’d been nagging her in every shop for something for me: sweets, toys, dolls, ice-creams, anything. Finally, to shut me up, she said, ‘You can have whatever money’s left over in my purse after I get the ammo.’ We went into the gun shop, and she bought fifty or a hundred rounds or whatever, and paid for it, and then gave me the purse. I was quivering with excitement, because I thought her purse always contained
used them as security to get loans from the bank, but already it looked like our overvaluations weren’t so over. After tea I went back to the office and sat at the desk staring at the big sheet of paper where I’d done my calculations. Mr Yannos had been at me to do a budget and I thought I’d better get on with it, but it was difficult because every day came something I hadn’t thought of or hadn’t expected. Like the quaddy. But there was always something. One day the pump would break down, the
Now I’d made it mad. I imagined it going into attack mode and filling my brain with venom. Amazingly, it didn’t do this, and I was able to have a second go, which was more successful. I swear, he was the size of my ear, and that’s not counting his legs. Yes, between rats and spiders, not to mention fights to the death with armed enemy soldiers, life was never dull. Anyway, I took my shower. I’m a long-shower person, because I find it the best place to think. We have a pretty good supply of
ran in zigzags among the rocks and moss and tufty grass, then ran straight until I had almost lost sight of Gavin. Perhaps if Gavin had not been there I would never have come back. The sight of his sad little figure, watching me from the top of the track, didn’t change my mood completely but it reminded me that I was still connected to the world. I couldn’t fly. My wings were working well again but the anchors were holding fast. I ran back and tackled him and we rolled down the hill a few
thought he was making a mess of it. When the kids were in bed though, which took an exhausting forty-five minutes – and that was without baths – we sat down and had coffees at the kitchen table. It was funny, there was no hint of sex or relationship stuff in the air. There wasn’t a good atmosphere for that kind of conversation after the noise and conflict of the kids. I was more than happy to avoid it anyway, given that my thoughts were about Jeremy these days, although every time I looked at