Mrs. Smith's Spy School for Girls /

Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:

A girl discovers her boarding school is actually an elite spy-training program, and she must learn the skills of the trade in order to find her mother in this action-packed middle grade debut.

After a botched escape plan from her boarding school, Abigail is stunned to discover the school is actually a cover for an elite spy ring called The Center, along with being training grounds for future spies. Even more shocking? Abigail's mother is a top agent for The Center and she has gone MIA, with valuable information that many people would like to have--at any cost. Along with a former nemesis and charming boy from her grade, Abigail goes through a crash course in Spy Training 101, often with hilarious--and sometimes painful--results. But Abigail realizes she might be a better spy-in-training than she thought--and the answers to her mother's whereabouts are a lot closer than she thinks...

Excerpt provided by Syndetics

Mrs. Smith's Spy School for Girls Chapter 1 New York City. Eight Months Ago. Where Things Take a Turn for the Weird. Dear Abigail Hunter, It is with great pleasure that we welcome you to the Smith School for Children's class of 2019. We are confident you will contribute many amazing things to our school and community. Here at Smith we take our motto very seriously: Non tamen ad reddet. Not to take, but to give back. We strive each day to make the world a better place for our fellow human beings because this is what matters most. Attached please find details regarding the start of the school year. Our travel office will be contacting you shortly to arrange transportation for you and your belongings to our beautiful Connecticut campus. We look forward to an exciting and rewarding year! Sincerely, Lola Smith Headmaster, The Smith School for Children The Smith School for Children? What? There has to be a mistake, because I go to Sweetbriar Montessori with Rowan and Ainsley and Blake and Alec, and we have plans. Next year, in eighth grade, there's the epic three-day field trip to Washington, DC. And Blake and I trade lunch every day because he likes the kale chips and other inedible green things my mother packs for me. Speaking of my mother, "Mom! Get in here right now!" I yell. My mother, the smart yet apparently forgetful Jennifer Hunter, appears in my bedroom doorway. She has a towel wrapped around her hair and one covering her torso. Her mouth is full of toothpaste. "What?" she mumbles through the foam. "Are you on fire?" I hold up the letter high so she is sure to get a good look at the Smith School crest and coat of arms, bright red and blue. (Also, why does a school for kids have a coat of arms?) Mom squints. She's vain, so she avoids wearing her reading glasses unless the situation calls for splinter removal. I clear my throat. "Does the Smith School for Children ring a bell?" I shout. Mom freezes, a look of shock clouding her face. Toothpaste rolls down her chin. My stomach sinks. This letter is no mistake. "Hold on," my mother says. "I gotta spit." She turns on her heel and leaves. She could have swallowed the toothpaste, but she's angling for time. She needs a minute to determine the best way to tell me she's sending me to boarding school and just kind of forgot to mention it. I sit cross-legged on my bed. In my free hand, I hold a ceramic box I made in pottery this year. It's glazed purple and orange and fits perfectly in my palm like a grenade. Not that I plan on throwing it or anything. My mother returns in a white T-shirt, her long, wet hair dripping on the floor, a totally inappropriate smile plastered on her face. She eyes my pottery. The smile falters. "Don't you even think about throwing that at me," she says, taking a seat on the end of my bed. "I'll duck, it'll smash on the wall, and what will you get?" I put down the ceramic box. "Nothing," I mutter. "Exactly," she says. "No upside. Just like when you ditched school with Ainsley to liberate the lemurs at the Central Park Zoo. There were police involved. No upside." "The lemurs were not happy," I mumble. "And you're dripping all over my bed." "I'm sorry you got the letter," she says, frowning. "But since when do you pick up the mail?" "I was trying to be helpful," I say. "Didn't you say it would be nice if I was more helpful? Besides, it was addressed to me." "The Smith School is the most prestigious boarding school in the country," she says. "I don't care," I say indignantly. "I'm not going." "You can wear skirts with little whales on them and polo shirts and things," she says. "It'll be a good fit. Lots of smart kids. Accomplished. You know." This is a ridiculous answer, even by Mom standards. I mean, how much can any kid accomplish by age twelve? The correct answer is . . . not much. "Are you mad?" I ask. "I've never seen this place! I've never even heard of it until right now! I go to Sweetbriar Montessori. I have friends! I have plans!" "The Smith School is really nice," my mother offers. I pick up the ceramic box again. She shakes her head ever-so-slightly. I put it down. "I don't care if it's nice," I whine. "I'm not going." "You are." Mom takes me by the shoulders and looks deep into my eyes. I hate when she does this. It's mesmerizing, like she's some kind of snake charmer, and although I've been her daughter for my whole life, I'm still powerless against it. "You're smart, Abigail," she says. "But you need focus and discipline, and it's my responsibility to find the place where that focusing and disciplining can happen. I need you to be safe." It's true I sometimes get into trouble. For example, two months ago I rigged the student council elections and got caught mid-ballot-box-stuffing, but that was out of loyalty to Josh, who really wanted to win and probably wasn't going to. So is loyalty bad? I think not. The Sweetbriar principal has called me a chronic user of poor judgment. Usually he's red in the face when he's saying this, and my mother is sighing loudly in a chair in front of his desk. "Boarding school?" I say again. For someone with a sharp tongue, I have a pathetically monosyllabic argument against boarding school. But to my credit, I'm in a state of shock, having just learned not five minutes ago that I will soon be disappeared into the green Connecticut landscape. I shake the letter at my mother. "I will die in this prison," I say. "I will shrivel up and disappear just like the Wicked Witch of the West. My creative self will be forever silenced. I cannot possibly go." Mom sits back and looks at me, a slight arch to one of her professionally engineered eyebrows. "Plus, I hate polo shirts," I add. "When have you ever seen me wear a polo shirt? And what sort of person wears marine life on her skirts? Wicked Witch of the West, Mom. Poof! Gone in a puff of smoke. The end of Abigail Hunter as you know her." "Steam," Mom says. "What?" "The Wicked Witch didn't burn. She steamed." Whatever. I hug my knees to my chest, the defensive posture of a hedgehog under attack. Mom looks me up and down. "Listen," she says with a sigh. "This is going to be a complicated year. There are places I have to be and things that . . . need doing. I can't be watching over you every second, pulling you back from the edge, intervening every time you take a wrong step. It just won't work. Smith will challenge you and keep you focused. Give it a try. Please? For me?" Mom has the most amazing violet eyes, and right now they tell me I ought to give in. This is the closest she will ever come to begging, and it doesn't happen very often. I love my mother. She's fun and funny and treats me with respect even when I mess up, which is frequently. But she also failed to mention she was sending me to boarding school in September. So I wait to see what else she's going to put on the table. Mom stands up. She paces the short length of my narrow bedroom, thinking. "Okay, how about winter break in Switzerland?" she says. "We can ski or build snowmen or, I don't know, drink hot chocolate." I shake my head. I hate the snow. Besides, Mom drives on icy roads the same way she drives on not-icy roads: fast and terrifying. "Tahiti?" she offers. "St. Barts? Galapagos? The Costa Rican cloud forest?" Now she's talking. "I'll take Galapagos and that art history camp in Rome you said I was too young for." She eyes me. My heart races. The elusive victory is close, I can feel it. Mom puts her hands on her hips. A trickle of sweat runs down my back. "Done," she says finally. We shake hands. And while I'm ecstatically happy (I won!), I also know I've been had. Because just like that, I'm off to the Smith School for Children. Excerpted from Mrs. Smith's Spy School for Girls by Beth McMullen All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

Reviews provided by Syndetics

Publishers Weekly Review

Abby lives in New York City with her single mother, and with summer winding down, she's looking ahead to seventh grade. Then a surprise letter announcing her acceptance to the Smith School for Children turns Abby's world upside down. After arriving at the school, she learns that it has an undercover element-training girls to be spies-and its best alumna, code named Teflon, is Abby's own mother, who has gone missing. A lot of people want to find Teflon, including the head of the Smith School, who uses Abby as bait to lure her mother out. When that fails, Abby and her friends search for her mother themselves. In her first book for children, McMullen (the Sally Sin series) delivers a fast-moving, twist-filled addition to the kid spy genre, which builds to a nail-biter of a conclusion. Abby's wry observations and tenacity, combined with glimpses of her vulnerability, make for entertaining reading while establishing a real and relatable character readers will hope to see again. Ages 9-13. Agent: Leigh Feldman, Leigh Feldman Literary. (July) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

School Library Journal Review

Gr 4-8-Twelve-year-old Abigail Hunter, occasional rule breaker, is adjusting to her new boarding school and scary headmistress, Mrs. Smith, when she stumbles into a web of intrigue centered on her own missing mother. Abby discovers that her mother has been living a secret life as a spy, and now both good guys and bad are trying to track her down. Guess who's the bait to lure Abby's mother into the open? After learning some handy self-defense moves from mean girl Veronica and being outfitted with fantastical spy technology (a self-destructing smartphone that shoots rubber bullets, for example), Abby is sent to California, where she must use all of her wits to escape the clutches of henchmen working for a mysterious villain called "The Ghost." The action continues in the Big Apple after Abby enlists the help of her friends Charlotte, Toby, and Izumi. Throughout the story, Abby's faith in her abilities, even when she is underestimated, shows strength of character and purpose. Abby's funny, over-the-top personality and the book's numerous, enjoyable secondary characters combine to create a solid foundation for further installments as Abby follows in her mother's footsteps to enroll in spy training. VERDICT Middle grade readers of Stuart Gibbs's Spy School as well as fans of boarding school adventures such as Shannon Hale's Princess Academy will appreciate this comical and exhilarating escapade.-Alyssa Annico, Youngstown State University, OH © Copyright 2017. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Booklist Review

It's a rude awakening for Abigail when she opens an acceptance letter from the Smith School for Children, a preppy boarding school in Connecticut, to which she hadn't even applied. Her mother, on the other hand, is less ignorant of this matter, having decided that her rule-breaking daughter could benefit from a more focused environment. Old habits die hard, however, and Abigail has no problem sneaking out of her dorm or breaking into Headmistress Smith's office on a dare; yet, after a bungled escape attempt, the plucky seventh-grader goes from schoolyard snoop to live bait. Mrs. Smith reveals that the Smith School doubles as a spy school affiliated with the Center, a secret intelligence organization, and they need Abigail's help finding their top agent her mother. Mind effectively blown, Abigail agrees. An action-filled romp ensues, which first-time author McMullen appropriately outfits with gadgets, close calls, thwarted plans, and a villainous criminal spy group. Abigail's entertaining narration tempers suspense with levity, and readers will have a blast accompanying her through sticky situations.--Smith, Julia Copyright 2017 Booklist

Horn Book Review

Abigail is surprised--and angry!--when her mother sends her away to boarding school for seventh grade. But the Smith School is really a secret training ground for spies, and soon Abigail is hand-picked to locate one of the most famous spies of all: her mother. Strong supporting characters, cool gadgets, several kidnappings, and many narrow escapes will hook readers for this action-packed new series. (c) Copyright 2018. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Kirkus Book Review

Unexpectedly enrolled in a prestigious boarding school, 12-year-old Abigail suddenly finds herself embroiled in a dangerous mission for a secret spy ring."A chronic user of poor judgment," mixed-race Abigail has dark eyes and hair, "deep tan" skin, and a penchant for trouble. Facing a "complicated year," her white, single-parent mother, Jennifer, enrolls Abigail in Smith School in Connecticut, hoping her daughter will be challenged. However, Abigail soon discovers Smith clandestinely recruits and trains select students to gather intelligence for the Center, an elite national security organization. To Abigail's amazement, she also learns her mother's a Smith alum, was "the Center's top agent," has vanished trailing the infamous Ghost, and may be in "terrible danger." The Center enlists Abigail to act as bait to locate Jennifer, but the mission aborts, leaving Abigail on her own to outwit Ghost operatives. Determined to find Jennifer, Abigail cracks a key clue with help from Smith classmates (a multiethnic bunch) and emerges a wannabe spy. Abigail's first-person, present-tense narration lends nail-biting immediacy, vulnerability, and self-effacing humor to her attempts to escape from Smith, her cursory spy training, and her harrowing experiences as a hostage and escapee. A sassy, new spy series with a spunky heroine, multitalented sidekicks, and tense, rapid-fire adventure. (Mystery. 9-13) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Author notes provided by Syndetics

Beth McMullen is the author of the Mrs. Smith's Spy School for Girls series; the Lola Benko, Treasure Hunter series; the Secret of the Storm series; and several adult mysteries. Her books have heroes and bad guys, action and messy situations. An avid reader, she once missed her subway stop and rode the train all the way to Brooklyn because the book she was reading was that good. She lives in northern California with her family and two cats. Visit her at BethMcMullenBooks.com.