Confessions of a Teen Sleuth: A Parody

Confessions of a Teen Sleuth: A Parody

Chelsea Cain

Language: English

Pages: 85

ISBN: 2:00194652

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

America's favorite girl detective is back to set the record straight. According to our titian-haired heroine, she was not in fact a fictional character, but an intrepid real-life sleuth who investigated some of the twentieth century's biggest mysteries. And the famous series she starred in was not cooked up by a team of writers, but plagiarized from her exploits by her nosy college roommate Carolyn-who, not surprisingly, got a whole lot wrong. Here are the daring escapes, brilliant hunches, and dependable stock characters, including interlopers from numerous other beloved series, that have delighted generations of fans. And here, also, are the details of teen-sleuth life that you never saw: the secret romances, reckless driving, minor drinking problems, political action, and domestic drama that have, up till now, remained hidden from these brave detectives' adoring public.

I can't remember when I've laughed aloud so frequently during the reading of a book...A wonderful send-up of the Nancy Drew novels.-Nancy Pearl, NPR

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remained unaware of its presence. The robot approached the front door of the residence, and we watched entranced as it reached an extendable arm up, picked the lock, turned the doorknob, and entered the home of the vice president of the United States. We breathed a collective sigh of relief when the robot was safely inside, only to have that sigh turn to a gasp when an enormous racket exploded over the speakers on either side of the monitor. Tom expertly spun the robot around to face the source

opened the door. A fair-haired young man was curled at the bottom of the closet, his arms and legs bound and a handkerchief tied across his mouth. "Joe!" wept Frank. He quickly cut the cords that bound his brother and lifted him out of the closet, trembling, into his arms. My momentary fright gone, I let my guard down. It was a split second later that I felt the blanket come down over my head and wrap tightly around me. I screamed and struggled as my assailant attempted to drag me backward

directions to a church in Leopoldville where Lumumba was said to be preparing his independence movement. We drove there in silence. When Chris pulled the car to a stop outside the stone structure, I cleared my throat. "I think I should go in by myself," I offered carefully. "It's too dangerous," Chris replied. "You're fifty. You're out of shape. You don't even know aikido." "I can fake it," I assured him. I got out of the car before he could protest again and, carrying the puppet in a burlap

ramifications of inequality. Clearly there is a social problem at the heart of this matter. If we can address the big picture, perhaps we can effect real change." We all looked at her blankly. She sat back down. "Or we can call my husband, Peter. He's in the FBI." "Or my dad," piped in Kim. "He's in the FBI too." "I don't think we need to call the FBI yet," I declared. "Not until we know more about what's going on." "Golly, how do we do that?" asked Donna. "We go back to the scene of the

doorbell rang again. Hannah answered it. She turned to me, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "Nancy!" she gasped. "It's a letter for you. Special delivery!" Hannah Gruen and Frank Hardy gathered around me as I opened the mysterious letter that had just arrived. "Who's it from?" asked the housekeeper. "I don't know," I answered. "There's no return address." I opened the letter carefully so as not to destroy any clues. Inside was a typewritten note: "STAY OUT OF IT," the note warned. I

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