Nighty-Nightmare
By James Howe and Leslie Morrill
4/5
()
About this ebook
What Harold knew was that Chester was a well read, over-stimulated cat, full of weird ideas. He did not take Chester's worries too seriously. He had s'more to think about. But then, the Monroes set up camp near two strange men and their even stranger dog, and things began to happen that made even Harold wonder. Could Chester be right?
This begins a long night, full of terrors and alarms, full of Chester's horrifying tale of how Bunnicula, the vampire bunny, was born and came to America, full of storms and a total sense of danger; and at the end came surprises that even Chester could not have predicted.
Once again, the Monroe family may be the victims of evil forces or only of Chester's strange imagination. But whichever, the result is suspenseful and very, very funny.
James Howe
James Howe is the author of more than ninety books for young readers. Bunnicula, coauthored by his late wife Deborah and published in 1979, is considered a modern classic of children’s literature. The author has written six highly popular sequels, along with the spinoff series Tales from the House of Bunnicula and Bunnicula and Friends. Among his other books are picture books such as Horace and Morris but Mostly Dolores and beginning reader series that include the Pinky and Rex and Houndsley and Catina books. He has also written for older readers. The Misfits, published in 2001, inspired the nationwide antibullying initiative No Name-Calling Week, as well as three sequels, Totally Joe, Addie on the Inside, and Also Known as Elvis. A common theme in James Howe’s books from preschool through teens is the acceptance of difference and being true to oneself. Visit him online at JamesHowe.com.
Read more from James Howe
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Reviews for Nighty-Nightmare
10 ratings6 reviews
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Harold, Chester and Howie are back in this new adventure. The Monroe's go camping but when the three animals get lost with their new acquaintance, Dawg, things really take a walk on the wild side.This one is a bit outlandish but hey aren't they all? And it is still cute as hell. It kind of reminds me of Homeward Bound with a sinister twist but still perfect for the little ones to read. I definitely recommend this as a part of the series.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Read this book in fifth grade and frmo what I remember it was really good.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Nighty Nighmare: The Monroes and the pets ( minus Bunnicula) go on a camping trip. Unfortunatly they go during St George's Day. A day when ghost and evil spirits are out. Fiction/ Fantasy I don't know. This was a cute story and I enjoyed hearing about Bunnicula's story. But I didn't enjoy it as much as the previous books. Still I'm looking forward to reading Return to Howliday Inn. =)
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Great read-aloud!
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Chester the cat warns Harold and Howie that they're camping on Saint George's Eve- everything they see is an evil portent. This all leads up to Chester telling a long scary-story about Bunnicula's origins. Meanwhile "Dawg," the suspicious dog of two men the Monroe family has met in the woods, has led them astray and gotten them lost. The Monroe pets have scary ideas, and a scary situation to get through that night.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Harold, Chester and Howie are back in this new adventure. The Monroe's go camping but when the three animals get lost with their new acquaintance, Dawg, things really take a walk on the wild side.This one is a bit outlandish but hey aren't they all? And it is still cute as hell. It kind of reminds me of Homeward Bound with a sinister twist but still perfect for the little ones to read. I definitely recommend this as a part of the series.
Book preview
Nighty-Nightmare - James Howe
[ ONE ]
The Adventure
IT BEGAN on the bottom of a canoe in the middle of Boggy Lake, some sixty miles from home and fifty yards from solid ground. The gentle rocking of the boat was lulling me to sleep when I felt Mr. Monroe’s hand come to rest on that spot between the tops of my ears where the hair goes every which way and the scalp seems to lie forever in wait for a little love and attention. I sighed. Three pats usually led to some vigorous scratching. But this time something was wrong. Mr. Monroe didn’t lift his hand after the second pat. Instead, he left it there flat and heavy, like an iron forgotten in the rush of attending to more pressing matters.
I looked up, hoping to hear that he’d grown tired of fishing and was ready to head back to the cabin and cook up some s’mores. Ever since Toby and Pete had introduced me to those gooey, crispy, chocolaty delights the summer before, I couldn’t get enough. But s’mores were not what was on Mr. Monroe’s mind. Alas. No, he was in the mood for reflection. And who better to share such moments, he was undoubtedly thinking, than man’s best friend himself?
Harold,
he said, staring off at the pine trees along the lake’s edge, "I’m going to be forty soon.
You know what that means, don’t you?"
Birthday cake, I thought.
It means half my life is over. Half my road is traveled. Half my songs are sung.
I’d never thought about middle age that way before. Gee, I thought, half my naps are taken.
I whimpered sympathetically.
Mr. Monroe looked at me and smiled. You understand what I’m talking about, don’t you, ol’ buddy?
In all the years I’d known him he’d never called me ol’ buddy. I mean, he’s a college professor. This was serious. You know what we need? We need an adventure, Harold. We need to do something we’ve never done before. Something we always wanted to do in our youth but never did.
I never chewed a chair leg, I thought. That would be fun. Listen, boy, we’re only here for a few days, but we still have time to do something new and adventurous and fun. Let’s go on an overnight camping trip! We’ll sleep out in the open, under the stars. What do you think, Harold?
Mosquitoes, I thought. Ticks, I thought. Cockleburs. I wasn’t sure I liked the idea at all. But then something else occurred to me.
S’mores.
My tongue fell out of my mouth, and the next thing I knew I was looking into Mr. Monroe’s eyes and drooling.
That’s the spirit, Harold,
he said. Let’s go tell the others.
The paddle hit the water with a sharp smack. Mr. Monroe’s eyes glinted with determination as he carried us quickly to shore. He wasn’t simply homeward bound, however; he was bound for adventure, bound for recapturing his youth.
I had no idea then that he had set his course as well on what would prove to be the most terrifying night of my life.
TEN MINUTES LATER, we were at the door of Lake Expectations,
the Monroes’ cabin retreat, named after Mr. Monroe’s favorite book. The boys, who seemed to be the only ones around, came running when they heard their father call out his news. I couldn’t help noticing that despite their enthusiasm, they managed to keep their tongues in their mouths.
"That is so cool, Pete shouted.
Can we go tonight?"
Yeah, Dad, can we?
Toby echoed.
I don’t know,
Mr. Monroe said as we all went inside. I’ve never done this sort of thing before. There’s a lot of preparation involved.
Don’t worry,
said Pete. I’ll take charge.
Well,
his father said.
No, its okay. Really,
Pete said, in a tone I’d heard him using a lot lately. I’ve been reading up on camping. For my badge, see. I know all about this stuff.
Mrs. Monroe came in from the back porch then, carrying a chipped pitcher full of buggy flowers. Is this the secret project you’ve been working on?
she asked Pete.
Pete shook his head. That’s a different merit badge.
Why can’t you tell us about it?
Toby said.
Because it’s none of your business, squirt.
Pete,
said Mrs. Monroe, wiping the bottom of the pitcher with her hand and placing it on the table.
Well, it isn’t fair,
Pete said. Toby thinks he has to do everything I do.
I’m a scout, too,
Toby said.
Pete looked at his younger brother and laughed.
You’re a Bobcat,
he said. Anybody can be a Bobcat.
Yeah, I guess so,
Toby mumbled. "You were one once."
Boys,
said Mrs. Monroe. Robert.
Right,
Mr. Monroe said. If we’re going to go on an overnight, let’s have some fun doing it. I don’t know what your other project is, Pete, but I see no reason why Toby can’t help you out on this one. Why don’t you get those camping books of yours, and we’ll all pitch in? The sooner we’re ready, the sooner we can leave.
Yippee!
Toby shouted. Can the animals come with us?
"Oh, I don’t know about that," Mrs. Monroe said. They’ll be fine here for one night.
But they’ll miss all the fun,
Toby said. He ran over and gave me a hug. Harold wants to go, don’t you, boy?
I licked his ear. See?
Mr. Monroe patted my head. Three times. And then he began to scratch. This was Harold’s idea almost as much as mine,
he said. I think he deserves to go.
It’s not Harold I’m worried about,
Mrs. Monroe