In this spellbinding, lavishly illustrated story that Diary of a Wimpy Kid author Jeff Kinney calls "wildly imaginative and totally terrifying," two unlikely friends face down their worst fears in order to stop their small town—and themselves—from disappearing.
Levi and Kat are about to discover a very dark side to their neighborhood.
Nothing ever seems out of place in the safe, suburban town of Cowslip Grove. Lawns are neatly mowed, sidewalks are tidy, and the sounds of ice cream trucks fill the air. But now . . . kids have been going missing—except no one even realizes it, because no one remembers them. Not their friends. Not their teachers. Not even their families.
But Levi and Kat do remember, and suddenly only they can see why everyone is in terrible danger when the night air rolls in. Now it is up to Levi and Kat to fight it and save the missing kids before it swallows the town whole.
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"Merritt's imagination is a haunted garden, overgrown with fantastic ideas....[his] art seizes your attention and does not let go....Like a fine pumpkin stew, ‘No Place for Monsters’ is spicy and comforting and perfectly autumnal….Trick-or-treating might have been declared a severe health hazard this season, but Merritt’s unsettling world is open for some safe spookery.”—The New York Times Book Review
“Wildly imaginative and totally terrifying—No Place for Monsters will scare you silly!”—Jeff Kinney, New York Times bestselling author of the Diary of a Wimpy Kid series
"No Place For Monsters is like a haunted-house version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Kory Merritt’s wonderfully scary drawings will keep you turning the pages through this truly spooky adventure."—Brian Selznick, New York Times bestselling author of The Invention of Hugo Cabret and Wonderstruck
"No Place for Monsters is so striking, it leaves an after image. You'll be seeing the art long after you've shut your eyes for the night. Kory Merritt’s vision of monsters in our world is terrifying and unforgettable.”—Max Brallier, New York Times bestselling author of the Last Kids on Earth series
★ "This is one hell of a middle-grade read, the kind that will spark imaginations as it is read late at night under the covers with a flashlight. . . . A wonderfully spooky tale."—Kirkus, STARRED review
★"With this darkly humorous, fully illustrated romp, Merritt (The Dreadful Fate of Jonathan York) creates a world threatened by all manner of horrors, from banal (petty neighbors) to the unspeakable (being completely forgotten by loved ones). Merritt’s scratchy black-and-white line illustrations expertly embody Levi’s calm practicality, Kat’s hyperactive exuberance, and the twisting otherworldliness of their cryptid foes. Solid use of light and shadow manipulate the atmosphere and tension levels as the story goes from mundane to frightening, while tongue-in-cheek visual jokes make every scene worth studying. Weird, wild, and warmhearted, this is a real page-turner for the spooky season."—Publishers Weekly, STARRED review
"A story for persistent readers who are interested in fantastical mysteries with many twists, turns, and lively illustrations." —School Library Journal
"Merritt’s black-and-white line drawings of legendary creatures—which are truly the spooky stuff of nightmares—and the interspersed shaky hand-lettered text add extra creepiness." —Horn Book Magazine
"Detailed, vivid illustrations are essential, moving the story forward between the text...It’s a grim world all around, but at least there are moments of brightness, as when Levi and his sister, reunited, rekindle their deep connection that was lost in the move. Sometimes monsters and darkness abound, but it is enough to have one person that you know has your back."—The Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books
On Monday Cindy Fogle woke her parents at 2 a.m. with a scream.
Mr. and Mrs. Fogle found Cindy sitting bolt upright in her bed, eyes wide and skin clammy. Night terrors, figured Mrs. Fogle. Cindy slept with her parents the rest of the night.
On Tuesday Cindy woke at 1:45 a.m. She was hysterical when her parents arrived to calm her.
She spent another restless night in her parents’ room, babbling about the Really Tall Man.
On Wednesday Cindy’s screams started shortly after midnight. She begged to spend the night in her parents’ room again.
Her room was bad.
The closet was bad.
The curtains were bad.
Under the bed—bad, bad, bad.
Mr. Fogle even checked under the bed. See? No monsters. No “Really Tall Man.” Just a plush rabbit that Mr. Fogle didn’t remember buying.
At last her parents relented, and while Cindy snuggled between them, Mr. Fogle silently vowed this would be the final time his daughter slept in their bed.
On Thursday Mrs. Fogle was roused in the middle of the night by a faint shuffling noise. She held her breath and listened.
Silence.
Probably just the fridge or the water heater or one of many strange house noises she noticed only at night. She fell back into sleep.
In the morning Mr. and Mrs. Fogle woke and went about their business. They did not notice that Cindy was gone.
Her room was empty. The speckled wallpaper, the pony border, the Tinker Bell bed sheets, the toy chest, the clothes that should have been hanging in the closet: gone.
No, not gone. More like never there to begin with. It was just a spare room Mr. Fogle had been planning to fill with a pool table.
And the family portrait hanging in the hall? Oh, that was there. It showed Mr. and Mrs. Fogle holding hands and smiling. No Cindy between them. Why should there be a Cindy? The Fogles did not have a daughter.
And the school didn’t call when Cindy failed to show. Why should they? There was no Cindy Fogle in their records.
Cindy?
Cindy who?