Grief can sometimes feel like being caught in the jaws of a great white shark. J.C., who goes by the nickname Sharky, has been having a hard time ever since his best friend died in front of him in what might or might not have been an accident. Shell-shocked, Sharky spends countless hours holed up in his room, obsessively watching documentaries about sharks and climate change—and texting his dead friend. Hoping a change of location will help, Sharky’s mom sends him to visit his dad on a remote island in Canada. There, Sharky meets a girl who just may show him how to live—and love—again.

After Sharkey's best friend commits suicide (or was it an accident?) in front of him, he spends the summer processing his grief on an abandoned beach resort island where his dad is the caretaker.

Our world, the planet Earth, needs our help, desperately, if she is to allow the human race to survive and thrive; to reach whatever levels of social, economic, spiritual and intellectual achievement we can attain. We have done a superior job of following God's directive to "go forth and multiply". We have been a great deal less successful in our realization that we are not the earth's owners, merely her stewards.

“Full of wit and wisdom, and riotously funny to boot. A phenomenal debut!” —Ransom Riggs, New York Times bestselling author of Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children “As irreverent as it is gratifying.” —David Arnold, New York Times bestselling author of Kids of Appetite and Mosquitoland A grieving teen faces dangerous classmates, reckless friends, and the one-year anniversary of his sister’s devastating death in this poignant, quirky, often humorous novel that’s perfect for fans of Jeff Zentner and Brendan Kiely. Kirby Burns is about to have the second worst day of his life. Tomorrow is the one-year anniversary of the worst day of his life, and in the three hundred and sixty-four days since then he hasn’t stopped running: from his family, his memories, and the horse-sized farm dogs that chase him to the bus stop every morning. But he can’t run forever, and as This Might Hurt a Bit begins, Kirby and his friends PJ and Jake sneak out of his house to play a prank whose consequences follow them to school the next day, causing a chain reaction of mayhem and disaster. It’s a story that’s touching and funny, an authentic meditation on the pain of loss, and the challenge of getting paint to stick to cows.

Originally published in hardcover: Oxford; New York: Oxford Universtiy Press, 2009.

When the honeybee population disappears and a pandemic sweeps across the planet, the government tried a bio-engineered cure even deadlier than the problem. Branded with the mark of the vaccine, Fiona must navigate this new dystopian world. But there's no cure for being stung. . . Fiona doesn't remember going to sleep. But when she opens her eyes, she discovers her entire world has been altered-her house is abandoned and broken, and the entire neighborhood is barren and dead. Even stranger is the tattoo on her right wrist-a black oval with five marks on either side-that she doesn't remember getting but somehow knows she must cover at any cost. And she's right. When the honeybee population collapsed, a worldwide pandemic occurred and the government tried to bio-engineer a cure. Only the solution was deadlier than the original problem--the vaccination turned people into ferocious, deadly beasts who were branded as a warning to un-vaccinated survivors. Key people needed to rebuild society are protected from disease and beasts inside a fortress-like wall. But Fiona has awakened branded, alone-and on the wrong side of the wall . . . Don't miss these other books by Bethany Wiggins: Stung: Stung Cured The Transference Trilogy: The Dragon's Price The Dragon's Curse Shifting

Should we bring new humans into the world? Or would it be better off without us? A renowned philosopher and advisor to NBC’s The Good Place offers a thoughtful exploration of humanity’s future—or lack thereof. “For more than five years, Todd May was my philosophical advisor. I heartily recommend that he be yours as well. (It helps that he’s quite funny.)”—Michael Schur, from the Introduction These days it’s harder than ever to watch TV, scroll social media, or even just sit at home looking out of the window without contemplating the question at the heart of philosopher Todd May’s Should We Go Extinct? Facing climate destruction and the revived specter of nuclear annihilation even as humans continue to cause untold suffering to our fellow creatures on planet Earth, we are forced each day to contemplate whether the world would be better off in our absence. In this timely, fascinating examination, May, a renowned philosopher and advisor to the acclaimed TV show The Good Place, reasons both for and against the continuation of our species, trying to help us understand how and whether, the positive and negative tallies of the human ledger are comparable, and what conclusions we might draw about ourselves and our future from doing so. He discusses the value that only humans can bring to the world and to one another as well as the goods, like art and music, that would be lost were we no longer here. On the other side of the ledger, he walks us through the suffering we cause to nature and the non-human world, seeking to understand whether it’s possible to justify such suffering against our merits and if not, what changes we could make to reduce the harm we cause. In this moment of rising pessimism about the future, and as many people wonder whether they should bring children into such a dark and difficult world, the questions May tackles in Should We Go Extinct? are hardly theoretical. As he explores the complexities involved with changes such as an end to factory farming, curbing scientific testing of animals, reducing the human population, and seeking to develop empathy with our fellow creatures, May sketches a powerful framework for establishing our responsibilities as a species and gives hope that we might one day find universal agreement that the answer to his title question should be No.