The Romans and dinosaurs live together in a huge glass dome called Romasauria. They race their rocket chariot and feast on moon-cow until their very existence is threatened by a giant asteroid. Will they be able to come up with a cunning plan to save Romasauria in time?

The Romans and Dinosaurs live on Mars in a huge glass dome called Romasauria. They race their rocket chariots and feast on Moon-Cow and chips until life on Mars is threatened by a Giant Asteroid. Will a wooden catapault and some Dinosaur poo save the day? Finish the illustrations and find out

"The Romans and Dinosaurs live together in a huge glass dome called Romasauria. They race their rocket chariots and feast on Moon-Cow and chips until life on Mars is threatened by a Giant Asteroid. Will a wooden catapult and some Dinosaur poo save the day? Finish the illustrations and find out!"--Publisher's website.

Draw your own adventure! These books take great subjects for boys and combine them into short, bonkers, and funny stories that are incredibly easy to read. The illustrations are bold and crazy, and there’s plenty of space left on each page — together with suggestions for how to fill it — so kids can add their own drawings. The books read as hilarious, zippy stories that look a lot like novels but are terrific doodle books as well. The Romans and Dinosaurs live together in a huge glass dome called Romasauria. They race their rocket chariots and feast on moon-cow and chips until life on Mars is threatened by a giant asteroid spotted by Augustus Astronomus through his giant telescope. Will a wooden catapult and some Dinosaur poop save the day? The Romans and the Dinosaurs are going to have to work together or it’s KAPOW for life on Mars.

What if some tiny slugs fell into a pool of toxic goo and became Giant Slugs? Would they take over the world? Or would the Spies vanquish them with their secret weapon?

A scientific look at creationism from a former creationist A significant number of Americans, especially evangelical Christians, believe Earth and humankind were created in their present form sometime in the last 10,000 years or so—the rationale being that this is (presumably) the story told in the book of Genesis. Within that group, any threatening scientific evidence that suggests otherwise is rejected or, when possible, retrofitted into a creationist worldview. But can this uncomfortable blend of biblical literalism and pseudoscience hold up under scrutiny? Is it tenable to believe that the Grand Canyon was formed not millions of years ago by gradual erosion but merely thousands of years ago by the Great Flood? Were there really baby dinosaurs with Noah on his ark? Janet Kellogg Ray, a science educator who grew up a creationist, doesn’t want other Christians to have to do the exhausting mental gymnastics she did earlier in her life. Working through the findings of a range of fields including geology, paleontology, and biology, she shows how a literal interpretation of the book of Genesis simply doesn’t mesh with what we know to be reality. But as someone who remains a committed Christian, Ray also shows how an acceptance of the theory of evolution is not necessarily an acceptance of atheism, and how God can still be responsible for having created the world, even if it wasn’t in a single, momentary, miraculous event.

The so-called “Bone Wars” of the 1880s, which pitted Edward Drinker Cope against Othniel Charles Marsh in a frenzy of fossil collection and discovery, may have marked the introduction of dinosaurs to the American public, but the second Jurassic dinosaur rush, which took place around the turn of the twentieth century, brought the prehistoric beasts back to life. These later expeditions—which involved new competitors hailing from leading natural history museums in New York, Chicago, and Pittsburgh—yielded specimens that would be reconstructed into the colossal skeletons that thrill visitors today in museum halls across the country. Reconsidering the fossil speculation, the museum displays, and the media frenzy that ushered dinosaurs into the American public consciousness, Paul Brinkman takes us back to the birth of dinomania, the modern obsession with all things Jurassic. Featuring engaging and colorful personalities and motivations both altruistic and ignoble, The Second Jurassic Dinosaur Rush shows that these later expeditions were just as foundational—if not more so—to the establishment of paleontology and the budding collections of museums than the more famous Cope and Marsh treks. With adventure, intrigue, and rivalry, this is science at its most swashbuckling.