When I was 5, I had my little address book where I'd written down all the people I needed to call in case of emergency. A couple of years later, I had to cook and shop for groceries on my own. At 10, I was obsessed with translating into Italian all the Latin sentences in The Name of the Rose, and I enjoyed doing my best friend's trigonometry homework. If I try to recall memories of me as a teen, I don't think I ever acted like one. I've never been able to be my own age back then, but I sure did love kids and teen literature. Even now that I'm a grownup --sort of--, I still have a soft spot for this kind of stories, so when John Peragine asked me to read Max and the Spice Thieves, I was more than happy to accept.
Adeline LaRue is born in a small village in France at the end of the seventeenth century, where she grows up feeling that she's meant for more than living dying and being buried in the same place. She wants to be free, to be her own person, so when her family starts talking about marriage she is scared, and starts praying to the old gods. She is warned: no matter how desperate or dire, she must never pray to the gods that answer after dark. And yet she does, and this is how her real story begins.