A warm summer novel about a community banding together in the wake of a tornado, perfect for fans of Lynda Mullaly Hunt, Kate Messner, and Jeanne Birdsall.   The night of the sixth-grade dance is supposed to be perfect for Maddie: she’ll wear her perfect new dress, hit the dance floor with her friends, and her crush, Avery, will ask her to dance. But as the first slow song starts to play, her plans crumble. Avery asks someone else to dance instead—and then the power goes out.   Huddled in the gym, Maddie and her friends are stunned to hear that a tornado has ripped through the other side of town, destroying both Maddie’s and Avery’s homes.   Kind neighbors open up their home to Maddie’s and Avery’s families, which both excites and horrifies Maddie. Sharing the same house . . . with Avery? For the entire summer? While it buys her some time to prove that Avery made the wrong choice at the dance, it also means he’ll be there to witness her morning breath and her annoying little brother.   At the dance, all she wanted was to be more grown-up. Now that she has no choice, is she really ready for it? Praise for 14 Hollow Road : A Kansas National Education Association Reading Circle Selection "Bishop nails the tween voice: Maddie is a realistic heroine who deals with typical middle-grade problems amidst disaster, and she navigates upheavals with occasional grace and more frequent missteps."-- Booklist  "The emotional impact of this coming-of-age novel lies in its sensitive exploration of Maddie’s changing friendships in the transition from elementary school to junior high...Readers going through the messy transition into adolescence will find hope in the newly strengthened friendships with which Maddie enters seventh grade."-- The Bulletin "The hopeful tone and conversational writing style make this an accessible read."-- SLJ “This gorgeous summer tale will hit the spot with fans of The Penderwicks by Jeanne Birdsall and Gertie’s Leap to Greatness by Kate Beasley.” —Erin E. Moulton, author of Flutter and Keepers of the Labyrinth Praise for Jenn Bishop’s The Distance to Home:   “Recommend this poignant novel to fans of  Keeping Score  by Linda Sue Park and The Thing About Jellyfish  by Ali Benjamin.” — School Library Journal  “A piercing first novel. . . . Bishop insightfully examines the tested relationships among grieving family members and friends in a story of resilience, forgiveness, and hope.” — Publishers Weekly “With appeal to both sports- and drama-minded girls, this will make a good book-club selection and pass-it-among-your-friends read.” — The Bulletin “A sensitive, well-wrought novel perfect for both sports lovers and fans of character-driven stories.” — Booklist Jenn Bishop is also the author of  The Distance to Home  and is a former youth services and teen librarian. She is a graduate of the University of Chicago, where she studied English, and the Vermont College of Fine Arts, where she received her MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults. Along with her husband and cat, Jenn lives in Cincinnati. Visit her online at JennBishop.com or on Twitter at @buffalojenn. 1     “Maddie, can you please hold still! For one more murfnurt.”   Mom’s mouth is full of bobby pins, but I know she meant “minute.”   Standing on my toes is probably not the best way to hold still, but it’s the best way for Mom to get at my hair.   She jabs another bobby pin deep into my skull. “Ow, Mom.”   “Didn’t mean to, honey. Almost done.”   My best friend, Kiersten, who can do the yoga tree pose for ten minutes without falling over, says that the way to balance is to focus on one thing. If you can do that, you won’t fall over. Like that’s easy.   I try to find just one thing to stare at. It’s actually pretty hard since there are so many things covering my walls--posters, pictures of me and my friends, my bulletin board--and all of them jog my memory so that I turn my head a little and Mom tugs on my hair to hold me in place.   So instead, I look out the window. My neighbor Greta and her brother, Jeremy the Germ, are on their swing set. We call him the Germ because he gets every single stomach bug that goes around the school. I swear he must lick everyone; it’s the only explanation. Jeremy’s swinging so high I wonder if he’ll flip over the top. I’m pretty sure Ms. Kaufman, the science teacher, would say he couldn’t, but it sure looks like he could. That would make a cool science-fair project. Can a person swing hard and fast enough to go over the top of a swing set? I bet that’d get an A.   Greta is wearing a princess dress over her pajamas. I think she’s yelling something at Jeremy, but I can’t hear what because my window is closed.   Hank’s bell jingles as he enters the room, and I turn my head the tiniest bit to see him. He bounds over with a slobbery tennis ball in his mouth. It falls to the floor with a bounce and rolls under my bed. I reach out my foot to try and grab it.   “Made