Finally! Winter is over and little Tommy can put away those bulky, itchy snow clothes. With the spring sun warming his face and the soft green grass tickling his toes, Tom is the happiest boy in the world. Look out Tom, something cold and white is lurking just around the corner ready to ruin your plans. Will Tom be able to find the good in this chilly situation or will his friends have all the fun without him?

The classic mystery that introduces Inspector Henry Tibbett. “If you’re hungry for a really good whodunit, you will welcome the debut of Patricia Moyes.” —The New York Times Are you craving Christie? Yearning for a plot? Whimpering softly into your teacup about the days when one could count on a nice civilized, mannerly sort of murder, with a sleuth who was reasonably free of neuroses and substance addictions? Patricia Moyes to the rescue! In Dead Men Don’t Ski she introduces Inspector Henry Tibbett, a blissfully ordinary English copper with a pleasantly plump wife and a nose for the bad guys. Sadly for Henry (but happily for us) that nose has a knack of ruining his vacations. In Dead Men, he and Emmy are headed for the Italian Dolomites, ready for a spot of skiing and some first-class people-watching, all those athletic youngsters in their swanky late-1950s ski outfits. It’s all very “Mad Men” until one dead body turns up, and then another, and it becomes clear that Murder has come to the mountain. Praise for Patricia Moyes “The author who put the ‘who’ back in whodunit.” —Chicago Daily News “A new queen of crime . . . her name can be mentioned in the same breath as Agatha Christie and Ngaio Marsh.” —Daily Herald “An excellent detective novel in the best British tradition. Superbly handled.” —Columbus Dispatch “Intricate plots, ingenious murders, and skillfully drawn, often hilarious, characters distinguish Patricia Moyes’ writing.” —Mystery Scene

From the author of Still Beating comes another standalone forbidden romance turning something broken into something beautiful. Want to know what happens to a man who barely claws his way out of a tragedy, only to fall right into the arms of the one girl in the world he isn't allowed to love? Another tragedy, that's what. When Brant was six years old, his father made a choice that altered the course of his entire life. Because of what he did, the only girl Brant ever loved became the only girl he couldn't have. Though in a lot of ways, he did have her... He had her first steps, her first words, her first smile. He had her milestones, her heartbreaks, her dreams. He had her heart so woven in with his, he didn't know where she ended, and he began. Only, as the years pressed on, lines became blurred—and the blurrier the line, the easier it is to cross. They say tragedy comes in threes. For Brant, that was true. The first one changed him, the second one broke him, and the third one healed him. But at the center of all that tragedy, there is a love story. And at the center of that love story, there is June.

Rhyme follows rhyme as layer after layer of winter clothing ("bunchy and hot, wrinkled a lot, stiff in the knee, and too big for me!") is first put on and then taken off to the relief of the child bundled inside. Clever rebuses and jaunty illustrations make The Jacket I Wear in the Snow especially fun for prereaders and new readers.

Mandy enters A Circle of Three with her friends April and Sandy in a Newport, Rhode Island summer of seventeenth birthdays, summer jobs, an Enchanted Hurricane, and a Dream Invader, who's after a secret that the girls don't even know they're guarding. Struggling to catch up in her Magikal training with her friends, Mandy's newfound chaotic skills are both helpful and dangerous as the three teens and April's precocious younger sister, Brenna, try to have a normal summer amidst the coming Hurricane's 'Winds of Misfortune', the appearance of Aisling, the mischievous Invader of their summer Dreams, and an unwelcome return of Courtney who helps and hinders their every step. Each girl deals with a recent past as Sandys mom, Karen, struggles with her own past, a past that only Three can Free.