Welcome to my stop on the Muskie Attack Blog Tour hosted by Worldwind Virtual Book Tours. For today's stop, I've got an excerpt to share with you that I hope you'll really enjoy!
About the book:
Author: G. M. Moore
Publisher: Self-published
Release date: March 22, 2012
For Corbett Griffith III, divorce and two busy parents mean goodbye city life, hello great outdoors. With their busy Chicago careers and schedules, his parents just don't seem to have any time for him. When his mother sends him to his uncle's Wisconsin fishing resort for the summer, Corbett feels that there's no one pulling for him or caring what happens to him.
But all of that changes at Whispering Pines Lodge, Corbett learns he is never really alone, thanks to his Uncle Dell, who takes care of him, and his new friend Pike, who pulls him into one mischievous adventure after another. It's a summer of change for ten-year-old Corbett--even his name changes, when a cute girl calls him "Griffy," a nickname he likes enough to keep.
When Griffy catches two elusive walleyes, he is surprised to discover how much he likes fishing. Eager to test his newfound skills, he and Pike are stunned to hear that a seventy-pound muskie is on the loose. They resolve to catch the ferocious fish, no matter what. For Pike catching a world record muskie would be about the sport. For Griffy it would be about something more. Maybe, just maybe, if he caught that fish is parents would take notice.
Think alligator. Think prehistoric beast. Think mean.
Will they be able to catch the muskie and stop it from attacking anyone or anything?
Excerpt from Muskie Attack:
As Gill turned to
start the motor, she stopped short. “Good Gouda,” she gasped.
“What? What is
it?” Pike asked, his voice raising an octave. From his seat at the bow, he
strained to see what was going on.
“The stringer.
It’s gone.”
She untied what
was left of the stringer and held it out for Pike and Griffy to see.
“It looks like
it’s been cut,” Griffy exclaimed. “How …”
The three surveyed
the water around them, fear growing on their faces.
“Vamanos, Gil.
Vamanos,” Pike ordered.
She jumped to
action, cranked up the motor, and turned the boat toward the lodge and Suicide
Rock. Luckily, the rocking boat had moved them a little closer to home.
The Lucky 13 sped—as fast as a four-horsepower
motor allowed—for the dock at Whispering Pines Lodge. They almost made it, too,
but the muskie pole, resting against the side of the boat, suddenly slipped and
caught on the underside of Griffy’s seat.
“Whoaaaaa, Gil.
Whoaaaaa,” Pike called, waving his hands back and forth over his head.
Gil cut the motor.
“Muskie pole’s
still in the water,” Griffy explained as he reached down to dislodge the reel.
As soon as he got it free, the pole jerked sharply backward. Griffy wrestled it
with both hands before being pulled spread eagle toward the stern of the boat.
With only seconds
to react, Gil jumped away from the motor as Griffy and the fishing pole flew at
her. As it had with the muskie pole, Griffy’s bench seat stopped him. His feet
caught on its side saving him from being pulled out of the boat.
“Hit the drag! Hit
the drag! Give it line!” Pike ordered.
But Griffy
couldn’t move. All he could do was hold on.
“Don’t let go,
Grif!” Pike pleaded as he leaped to Griffy’s aid.
With one hand, he
grabbed the muskie pole just above the reel. With the other, he pushed the drag
button and released the line. He wasn’t quick enough to save Griffy, though.
With the tension gone, Griffy dropped—kerplunk!—to
the bottom of the boat.
“Sorry, dude,”
Pike winced as he took the fishing pole from Griffy.
Griffy moaned and
pulled himself up. He flexed his hands back and forth. They hurt, bad.
“Do you think we
snagged a log?” Gil asked quietly as she settled back in at the boat’s helm.
“I don’t know,”
Pike answered. He started reeling the line in. “We’ll soon see.”
Griffy watched Pike
in tense silence.
With the pole held
high, Pike reeled and reeled. He heaved the pole back. It bent dangerously low.
“Ugh,” he gasped. “It feels like a log—dead weight—but it’s moving.” He kept
reeling, but it was difficult and slow going. “Here, my arms are killing me,”
Pike said, passing the pole to Griffy.
“Geez!” Griffy
exclaimed. “It weighs a ton.” He reeled and reeled, heaved and heaved working
the log closer and closer to the boat.
“Let’s just cut
the line and go in,” Gil stated. Her hands were shaking.
“Take over, Pike,”
Griffy called out. “My arms are about ready to go.”
Pike grabbed the
pole and started reeling again. Strangely, the line became very slack,
gathering in curls at the water’s surface.
“Hey, I think we
lost it,” Pike announced and reeled faster.
Curious, both Gil
and Griffy peered into the water.
“I don’t see
anything,” Gil said.
She spoke too
soon.
A flat,
reptilianlike head almost as big as hers broke water about four feet from the
boat. The beady-eyed muskie flashed its cream-colored belly and then
disappeared.
“Ohmigod!” Gil
gasped.
“Did you see it!
Did you see it?! What was it?” Griffy shouted.
Pike stopped
reeling. “Mu-u-uskie,” he stammered.
Somehow, seeing
the five-foot monster muskie didn’t frighten Griffy as much as it excited him.
He yelled at Pike and Gil. “Wow! Did you see it?” He punched Pike in the arm.
“Keep reeling! Keep reeling!”
The punch seemed
to get Pike back on track and in fisherman mode. He quickly got the slack out
of the line and gave the pole a heave. The muskie, playing dead before, came
alive. It frantically jumped out of the water and flipped violently in the air,
trying to free itself from the lure lodged in its mouth. Its massive body
crashed back down, spraying the kids and The
Lucky 13 with cold lake water.
“Holy chedda cheese!” Pike and Griffy
yelled.
Gil didn’t ask
anyone’s permission this time. She sat down at the motor and cranked it up. She
was getting out of there—fish or no fish. Out of the corner of his eye, Griffy
saw Gil pick up the wooden club that Mr. Hanover had given them. “When you see
that muskie, hit it and hit it hard,” he had told them. Griffy saw her place
the club’s leather strap around her wrist and, with her other hand, grab the
handle of the idling motor.
“Brace yourselves,
boys,” she warned. “We’re going in.”
Pike and Griffy
battled the muskie as Gil inched them closer and closer to shore. The muskie
fought vigorously now. The small motor was barely a match for it. The fish kept
pulling the boat sideways.
“The pole’s
holding up. The line’s holding up. Our only hope is to wear him down,” Pike
instructed as he wiped sweat off his face and onto his T-shirt. The double-eyed
cane pole showed amazing flexibility against the muskie’s weight. Griffy didn’t
know how much longer he could battle this monster. His arms ached. The thought
of winning that five-thousand-dollar prize and showing his dad was all that
kept him going.
Gil seemed to have
her own agenda. “I see bottom!” she yelled. She cut the motor, grabbed the
anchor’s rope, and jumped out of the boat.”
“Gil! Are you
crazy!” Pike screamed after her. “You’ll drown.”
“Will not! I’ve
got a life jacket on. Duh. I’m anchoring us on shore.”
She took a couple
determined steps through the shoulder-high water, but without the pull of the
motor fighting against it, the muskie was too strong. The fighting fish pulled
her and The Lucky 13 into deeper
water. Griffy noticed Gil treading water instead of walking. She obviously
couldn’t touch bottom anymore. The anchor looked like it weighed a ton.
“Hold on, Gil,”
Griffy commanded. He passed the pole once again to Pike and readied the oars.
Griffy oared with
all his might, trying to push The Lucky
13 back to shallow water. With Gil kicking hard and fast, she was soon able
to stand again. She lowered her head and, with determination, began dragging
the anchor to shore. Griffy stopped oaring and instead used one of the paddles
as a wedge. Digging it into the lake’s bottom, he pushed off again and again
with as much force as he could muster. Gil struggled against the now waste-high
water, lunging herself closer and closer to shore.
****
Underwater, less
than seven feet from The Lucky 13,
the muskie whipped its head back and forth trying once more to dislodge the
lure implanted in its mouth. Go deep,
its instincts said. But the muskie couldn’t. The water was too shallow. Find a weed bed. But in this part of the
bay, the weeds weren’t plentiful enough for a five-foot, seventy-pound fish to
tangle itself up in. Get to open water.
But whatever had hold of it wasn’t letting that happen. Escape, its instincts cried out. Find a way to escape. Any way. So the muskie changed its tactics.
The massive beast turned away from the depths of Lost Land Lake and swam with
torpedolike speed toward the bottom of The
Lucky 13.
About the author:
G. M. Moore is a former newspaper writer and editor. She grew up exploring the lakes of northern Wisconsin. During the summer months, this Chicago-area author can be found up north and out on the lake. Snakehead Invasion is the third book in the Up North Adventure series. You can learn more about her books at: http://www.upnorthadventure-series.com/jvbook/Home.htmlConnect with G. M. Moore: Website | Goodreads | Facebook
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This sounds different. I really enjoyed the fun excerpt, too. Thanks for sharing this with us :)
ReplyDelete- Ellie at The Selkie Reads Stories