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The Tail of Emily Windsnap

Illustrated by Sarah Gibb
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Hardcover
$15.99 US
5.38"W x 7.94"H x 0.8"D   | 11 oz | 40 per carton
On sale Sep 12, 2023 | 224 Pages | 9781536230482
Age 8-12 years | Grades 3-7
Reading Level: Lexile 540L | Fountas & Pinnell S
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The enchanting first tale in the New York Times best-selling series is now available in a beautiful twentieth-anniversary edition poised to captivate a new generation.

For as long as she can remember, twelve-year-old Emily Windsnap has lived on a boat. And, oddly enough, for just as long, her mother has anxiously kept Emily away from the water. But when Mom finally agrees to let her take swimming lessons, Emily makes a startling discovery—about her own identity, the mysterious father she’s never met, and the thrilling possibilities and perils shimmering deep below the water’s surface. In a lovely twentieth-anniversary edition of the spellbinding fantasy about family secrets, loyal friendship, and the convention-defying power of love, New York Times best-selling author Liz Kessler lures us into a glorious undersea world where mermaids study shipwrecks at school and Neptune rules with an iron trident. This deluxe unjacketed hardcover features a ribbon bookmark, decorative stained edges, an author’s note, facts about mermaids, and a personality quiz to reveal what kind of sea creature the reader might be.
Pre-teen girls will likely bite at this novel's tempting bait.
—Publishers Weekly

Light, imagination-tickling fare ideal for middle-grade girls, with charming ink-wash illustrations scattered throughout.
—Booklist

Middle school girls . . . will enjoy the tale.
—VOYA

There is no denying the siren-like allure of mermaid stories. . . . Gibb's spot art has a fluid delicacy that adds much to the watery ambience.
—Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books

Liz Kessler makes a splash with this tightly written, highly imaginative debut.
—FamilyFun

Charming.
—The Wall Street Journal

Liz Kessler creates an engaging heroine, full of funny asides and derring-do, and a sparkling, fast-paced story with more plot twists than a mermaid's flipping tale.
—Washington Parent

Kessler has a wonderful new "tail" she has woven with Emily...There is enough mystery that you keep reading for more… It is a book that leaves you wanting more Emily.
—1340magbooks.com

One of the more imaginative tales I have ever read.
—5 Minutes for Books blog
Liz Kessler lives in England, and has worked as a teacher, journalist, and editorial consultant. She says she first knew she wanted to become a writer at the age of nine, when she had a poem published in a local newspaper. The Tail of Emily Windsnap, her first children’s book, grew out of a poem she wrote about a mermaid.
As I swam around the rocks at the end of the bay, the water became clearer and softer. It was like switching from grainy black-and-white film into color. The fat gray fish were replaced by stripy yellow-and-blue ones with floppy silver tails, long thin green ones with spiky antennae and angry mouths, orange ones with spotted black fins—-all darting purposefully around me.

Every now and then, I swam across a shallow sandy stretch. Wispy little sticklike creatures as thin as paper wriggled along beneath me, almost see-through against the sand. Then the water would suddenly get colder and deeper as I went over a rocky part. I swished myself across these carefully. They were covered in prickly black sea urchins, and I wouldn’t be thrilled to get one of those stuck on my tail.

Soon the water got warmer again as I came to another shallow part. I was getting tired. I came up for fresh air and realized I was miles from home; farther away than I’d ever been on my own. I tried to flick myself along, but my tail flapped lazily and started to ache. Eventually, I made it to a big, smooth rock with a low shelf. I pulled myself out of the water, my tail resting on some pebbles in the sea. A minute later, it went numb. I wiggled my toes and shivered as I watched my legs come back. That part was still really creepy!

Sitting back against a larger rock, I caught my breath. Then I heard something. Like singing, but without words. The wet rocks shimmered in the moonlight, but there was no one around. Had I imagined it? The water lapped against the pebbles, making them jangle as it sucked its breath away from the shore. There it was again—-the singing.

Where was it coming from? I clambered up a jagged rock and looked down the other side. That’s when I saw her. I rubbed my eyes. Surely it couldn’t be . . . but it was! It was a mermaid! A real one!

The kind you read about in kids’ stories. Long blond hair all the way down her back, which she was brushing while she sang. She was perched on the edge of a rock, shuffling a bit as though she were trying to get comfortable. Her tail was longer and thinner than mine. Silvery green and shimmering in the moonlight, it flapped against the rock as she sang.

She kept singing the same song. When she got to the end, she started again. A couple of times, she was in the middle of a really high part when she stopped and hit her tail with the brush. "Come on, Shona," she said sharply. "Get it right!"

I stared for ages, opening and closing my mouth like a fish. I wanted to talk to her. But what exactly do you say to a singing mermaid perched on a rock in the middle of the night? Funnily enough, I’ve never had that come up before.

In the end, I coughed gently and she looked up immediately.

"Oh!" she said. She gaped open-mouthed at my legs for a second. And then, with a twist and a splash, she was gone.

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About

The enchanting first tale in the New York Times best-selling series is now available in a beautiful twentieth-anniversary edition poised to captivate a new generation.

For as long as she can remember, twelve-year-old Emily Windsnap has lived on a boat. And, oddly enough, for just as long, her mother has anxiously kept Emily away from the water. But when Mom finally agrees to let her take swimming lessons, Emily makes a startling discovery—about her own identity, the mysterious father she’s never met, and the thrilling possibilities and perils shimmering deep below the water’s surface. In a lovely twentieth-anniversary edition of the spellbinding fantasy about family secrets, loyal friendship, and the convention-defying power of love, New York Times best-selling author Liz Kessler lures us into a glorious undersea world where mermaids study shipwrecks at school and Neptune rules with an iron trident. This deluxe unjacketed hardcover features a ribbon bookmark, decorative stained edges, an author’s note, facts about mermaids, and a personality quiz to reveal what kind of sea creature the reader might be.

Praise

Pre-teen girls will likely bite at this novel's tempting bait.
—Publishers Weekly

Light, imagination-tickling fare ideal for middle-grade girls, with charming ink-wash illustrations scattered throughout.
—Booklist

Middle school girls . . . will enjoy the tale.
—VOYA

There is no denying the siren-like allure of mermaid stories. . . . Gibb's spot art has a fluid delicacy that adds much to the watery ambience.
—Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books

Liz Kessler makes a splash with this tightly written, highly imaginative debut.
—FamilyFun

Charming.
—The Wall Street Journal

Liz Kessler creates an engaging heroine, full of funny asides and derring-do, and a sparkling, fast-paced story with more plot twists than a mermaid's flipping tale.
—Washington Parent

Kessler has a wonderful new "tail" she has woven with Emily...There is enough mystery that you keep reading for more… It is a book that leaves you wanting more Emily.
—1340magbooks.com

One of the more imaginative tales I have ever read.
—5 Minutes for Books blog

Author

Liz Kessler lives in England, and has worked as a teacher, journalist, and editorial consultant. She says she first knew she wanted to become a writer at the age of nine, when she had a poem published in a local newspaper. The Tail of Emily Windsnap, her first children’s book, grew out of a poem she wrote about a mermaid.

Excerpt

As I swam around the rocks at the end of the bay, the water became clearer and softer. It was like switching from grainy black-and-white film into color. The fat gray fish were replaced by stripy yellow-and-blue ones with floppy silver tails, long thin green ones with spiky antennae and angry mouths, orange ones with spotted black fins—-all darting purposefully around me.

Every now and then, I swam across a shallow sandy stretch. Wispy little sticklike creatures as thin as paper wriggled along beneath me, almost see-through against the sand. Then the water would suddenly get colder and deeper as I went over a rocky part. I swished myself across these carefully. They were covered in prickly black sea urchins, and I wouldn’t be thrilled to get one of those stuck on my tail.

Soon the water got warmer again as I came to another shallow part. I was getting tired. I came up for fresh air and realized I was miles from home; farther away than I’d ever been on my own. I tried to flick myself along, but my tail flapped lazily and started to ache. Eventually, I made it to a big, smooth rock with a low shelf. I pulled myself out of the water, my tail resting on some pebbles in the sea. A minute later, it went numb. I wiggled my toes and shivered as I watched my legs come back. That part was still really creepy!

Sitting back against a larger rock, I caught my breath. Then I heard something. Like singing, but without words. The wet rocks shimmered in the moonlight, but there was no one around. Had I imagined it? The water lapped against the pebbles, making them jangle as it sucked its breath away from the shore. There it was again—-the singing.

Where was it coming from? I clambered up a jagged rock and looked down the other side. That’s when I saw her. I rubbed my eyes. Surely it couldn’t be . . . but it was! It was a mermaid! A real one!

The kind you read about in kids’ stories. Long blond hair all the way down her back, which she was brushing while she sang. She was perched on the edge of a rock, shuffling a bit as though she were trying to get comfortable. Her tail was longer and thinner than mine. Silvery green and shimmering in the moonlight, it flapped against the rock as she sang.

She kept singing the same song. When she got to the end, she started again. A couple of times, she was in the middle of a really high part when she stopped and hit her tail with the brush. "Come on, Shona," she said sharply. "Get it right!"

I stared for ages, opening and closing my mouth like a fish. I wanted to talk to her. But what exactly do you say to a singing mermaid perched on a rock in the middle of the night? Funnily enough, I’ve never had that come up before.

In the end, I coughed gently and she looked up immediately.

"Oh!" she said. She gaped open-mouthed at my legs for a second. And then, with a twist and a splash, she was gone.