And on that swervy-curvy car ride back home Max smiles as the moon tags along, thinking of Grandpa. But when the sky darkens and the moon disappears behind clouds, Max worries that it did not follow him home after all. Yet when the clouds part and light streams through his window, he realizes that Grandpa was right—the moon was with him all along.Floyd Cooper received the Coretta Scott King Award for The Blacker the Berry, two Coretta Scott King Honors for Honey in Broomwheat Tea and I Have Heard of a Land, and an NAACP image award. His books have also been named to numerous best books list and been given many Parents Choice Awards.  In Max and the Tag-Along Moon, his lush paintings perfectly capture the wonder of the moon, the love between grandfather and grandson, and that feeling of magic every child experiences when the moon follows him home.

    A rhyming story about one little mouse trying to make himself heard and discovering along the way that even the smallest of us has the heart of a lion.

    And, His Excellency has a boy! Pepito, as he is named, is not just any boy: according to Madeline, he is a "bad hat"--for starters, he's equipped with an irksome slingshot, he "ghosts," and he boasts. And when Miss Clavel gives him a box of tools to function as an "outlet for his energy," he makes a guillotine for the cook's chickens. ("He ate them ROASTED, GRILLED, AND FRITO! Oh what a horror was PEPITO.") Children will love Ludwig Bemelmans's jaunty rhymes and simple, evocative drawings, and the ferocity with which the feisty Madeline suspects, condemns, and rebuffs the boisterous new boy neighbor. In the end, however, everything comes out right, and we, along with Miss Clavel, can relax. (Ages 4 to 8) --Karin Snelson

    Well, except for Bob. Much to the other bunnies’ frustration, Bob can never get the rhythm right. Then he saves everyone from a big, scary monster wielding—gasp!—a broom, and they all breathe a sigh of relief. But can Bob save them from the big, scary monster’s next attack? Vrrrrrroooommm . . .