About the Author

Tanya Lloyd Kyi

 

Tanya Lloyd Kyi has written over fifteen books of fiction and nonfiction for middle-grade and young-adult readers, including many award winners. Her recent titles for Annick Press include Extreme Battlefields: When War Meets the Forces of Nature (2016), DNA Detective (2015), and When the Worst Happens: Extraordinary Stories of Survival (2014). Tanya lives in Vancouver, British Columbia, with her husband and two children.

 

Books by this Author
50 Body Questions

50 Body Questions

A Book That Spills Its Guts
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50 Burning Questions

50 Burning Questions

A Sizzling History of Fire
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50 Poisonous Questions

50 Poisonous Questions

A Book With Bite
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50 Underwear Questions

50 Underwear Questions

A Bare-All History
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Burn

Burn

The Life Story of Fire
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Eyes and Spies

Eyes and Spies

How You're Tracked and Why You Should Know
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La otra vida de Caz

La otra vida de Caz

(My Time as Caz Hazard)
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La verdad

La verdad

(Truth)
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Fue un hombre pelirrojo tirado en el suelo del cuarto de los padres de lan, con un brazo en alto como si se hubiera caído de la cama. Tenía el brazo torcido y la parte de atrás de la cabeza ensangrentada.

"Respira," me digo a mí misma mientras tamborileo con las uñas en la mesa del comedor. "No pienses en eso. Si te pones a recordarlo, el oficial Wells se puede dar cuenta. Él no sabe nada y no te ha venido a buscar a tí." Hago que mis dedos paren.

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Lowdown on Denim, The

Lowdown on Denim, The

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My Time as Caz Hazard

My Time as Caz Hazard

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Dodie Dunstan died last night," she said.
Strangely, my first thought was that Dodie had a last name. Other than Doorknob, that is. Was that how you talked about a dead person? You used her full name?
Ms. Samuels' voice caught, but she continued. "The police don't suspect foul play."
"That means what?" I asked, confused.
"She offed herself. Suicide," Jaz said, turning his intense stare in my direction for the first time all morning. He pursed his lips, considering. "She seems like the pill type to me. She wouldn't want to see blood.

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Prince of Pot
Excerpt

Waterfall plus girl. That’s apparently what it takes for me to forget where and how I live.

A low, phlegmy grunt reminds me.

Another.

Snuffling.

“Is that what I think it is?” Sam asks, her voice turned raspy. Then she starts whistling. She manages a few notes before she’s all air and no sound.

I know the feeling. It’s hard to whistle when your mouth’s gone dry as a creek bed in August.

That sound was a bear, all right. It was Hazel. I can tell before I catch a glimpse of her cinnamon-speckled fur.

She’s going to ruin my perfect hour.

*

When I push open the door, I startle them all.

There’s an insistent knot in my gut.

“I ran into a hitchhiker by the highway.”

Dad’s eyes narrow.

“And?” he asks.

We just had our biggest fight ever, but he trusts my judgment. With that one word, he’s relying on me to make the call.

“We have a problem.”

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Shadow Warrior

Shadow Warrior

Based on the true story of a fearless ninja and her network of female spies
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Koga, 1558

 

 

 

Chiyome dangled upside down from the cliff’s edge. The blood rushed to her head, and the pounding in her ears drowned out the calls of forest birds. The breeze, which had seemed so mild a moment ago, now threatened to tear her from the rock.

 

 

 

Her training partner adjusted his grip on her ankles, giving them a tiny tug. Chiyome held back a scream. The rocks at the base of the cliff were jagged and seemed heart-stoppingly far below. If she fell ...

 

Be patient. Conquer fear. Sensei’s words from that morning echoed in her head. She glimpsed her instructor on the cliff’s edge above, watching her silently. A dozen other students, all boys, clustered nearby. Most had already completed this particular challenge.

 

 

 

She forced herself to take long, slow breaths as their voices drifted down to her.

 

 

 

“She’ll give up soon.”

 

 

 

“Maybe. But you know who her great-grandfather was, right?”

 

 

 

“Who?”

 

 

 

“Mochizuki Izumo-no-kami.”

 

 

 

A murmur ran through the group at the sound of his name. He’d been one of Koga’s best fighters.

 

 

 

Chiyome felt her legs trembling. Be patient. Conquer fear, she repeated to herself. She remembered Sensei’s lessons about practicing zanshin: calm awareness. She tried to clear her mind, ignoring the boys and focusing only on the rhythm of her breath and the cold wind on her face.

 

 

 

For just a whisper of time the fear seemed to float away from her body before she heard Sensei speak: “Bring her up.”

 

 

 

Once again Chiyome began to shiver. Her partner gripped her legs tighter as another boy reached down for her hand, and together they hauled her up over the edge, the rough granite scraping her elbows and knees. She sprawled on the ground, gasping for air, and glanced at her partner. He looked as shaken as she felt. Then she forced herself upright and bowed to Sensei, who nodded his approval.

 

 

 

“Next,” Sensei called, and a boy to her right stepped unsteadily forward.

 

 

 

Chiyome leaned against a tree trunk. Another ninja test, and she had survived. Not only survived, but gained a rare nod from her teacher. Though she kept her face carefully smooth, she was beaming inside.

 

 

 

Once, her great-grandfather had helped establish Koga’s ninja traditions. Now, Chiyome would carry on his legacy. She’d serve as one of the guards and lookouts who ranged through the nearby mountains, protecting the local villages. Or she’d seek her fortune working for a faraway daimyo.

 

 

 

First, she needed to learn everything Sensei could teach: how to scale castle walls, how to make waterproof torches, and how to count the sleeping bodies in a darkened room. She’d practice disguising herself in the light and listening from the shadows.

 

 

 

Today’s tests had just begun. As the last boy pulled his partner up over the edge, Sensei pointed to the cliff’s face. Their next challenge, he explained, was to climb all the way across it, to the path on the far side, barely visible through the mist.

 

 

 

Chiyome looked at the sheer granite, her eyes seeking out tiny ledges and possible handholds. She glanced at the ground far below and swallowed hard.

 

 

Zanshin. Be patient. Conquer fear.

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The Blue Jean Book

The Blue Jean Book

The Story Behind the Seams
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Truth

Truth

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It was a redheaded man sprawled across the floor in Ian's parents' room, one arm up as if he'd rolled out of bed. His arm was twisted, and the back of his head was wet with blood.
Just breathe, I tell myself as I drum my fingernails on the dining room table. Don't think about it. If you think about it, Officer Wells is going to know. And he doesn't know anything. He's not looking for you anyway. I make my fingers stop tapping.

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When the Worst Happens

When the Worst Happens

Extraordinary Stories of Survival
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