The Wizard of Oz meets The Wind in the Willows in this middle grade novel full of “old world charm and adventure” ( Kirkus Reviews ) in which a theater-dwelling, Oz-loving hedgehog goes on the journey of a lifetime to find his way home in this tale of loyalty, friendship, loss, and hope. Marcel the hedgehog used to live with his beloved owner Dorothy, but since getting hopelessly lost, he’s tried to forget the happy home he left behind. Now, Marcel lives a quiet life in the abandoned balcony of The Emerald City Theater where he subsists on dropped popcorn and the Saturday showings of The Wizard of Oz . But when he’s discovered, Marcel is taken far away from everything he knows and ends up lost once more. His quest to return to The Emerald City Theater leads him to Mousekinland, where he meets Scamp, a tiny mouse armed with enormous spirit (and a trusty sling-shooter). Before long, they’re joined by an old gray squirrel, Ingot, who suffers from bad memories and a broken heart, and Tuffy, a baby raccoon lost and afraid in the forest. And the travelers attract the attention of an owl named Wickedwing, who stalks them as they search for the old theater. From field to forest, glittering theater to the gutter, the animals’ road home is a dark and winding journey. But sometimes you need to get a little lost before you can be found. Cory Leonardo grew up believing she’d replace Vanna White on Wheel of Fortune , but when that didn’t work out, she decided she’d turn letters and phrases in a different way (but minus the glittery dresses, sadly). A born and bred upstate New Yorker, she currently lives in the Syracuse area with her husband and three plucky children. Cory was selected and mentored in Brenda Drake’s Pitch Wars 2016 and has been an active SCBWI member for the past five years. She is the author of The Simple Art of Flying and The Hedgehog of Oz . Chapter 1: The Limes CHAPTER 1 The Limes MARCEL LISTENED AS GOMER DUPREE wrapped up the day’s battle against the old janitor’s sworn enemy: bubble gum. Blobs on the metal trash baskets, wads under seats, globs stuck like growths to the flying monkeys carved into the pillars. When the last wad was vanquished, Gomer (getting on in years and stooped with arthritis) valiantly vacuumed candy and popcorn kernels from the seat cracks and scrubbed what soda pop glue he could from the floor. He missed some things. When Gomer came back in after changing the marquee, Marcel perked up his ears. The old man grabbed his empty thermos and keys, stepped outside into the dark cloak of early morning, and locked the glass doors. There’d be quite a few hours before he’d return for tonight’s showing of Dragons of the Deep: A Love Story . When at last the theater was quiet and Gomer Dupree was safely away, Marcel scrambled up the broken railing of the balcony and popped his nose over the edge. He gave the air a good sniff. Ah . Breakfast. “Two Licorice Twithsts under seat 26D, a small bag of popcorn behind the trash bin—nearly full—and one lime Fruit Gem stuck to the exit sign in the north wing. I think there might be a yogurt raisin near the restrooms too,” Marcel said proudly. (He might depend on a strong pair of glasses—hedgehogs have terrible eyesight, particularly with the chandeliers dim, as they were now—but boy could he sniff out a yogurt-covered raisin when he needed to.) But where were his glasses? Marcel looked away from the fuzzy sea of seats below and back into the balcony. He didn’t like creeping up on the sisters when they were still sleeping, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “We could probably do without the Fruit Gem, huh?” he asked, squinting at the green mountain of lime gummy candies piled in a corner. He was met with silence. His glasses . He needed them in order to get started, and… He’d just remembered where he’d seen them last. Marcel coughed into his fist and raised his voice a hair. “Auntie Hen? Uncle Henrietta?” Auntie Hen, who’d been snoozing in the seat next to Marcel’s overturned popcorn tub of a house, in a nest made from a blue cashmere cardigan she’d plucked out of the lost-and-found box behind the concession stand, stirred, flapped her wings, and stretched. “Lime,” she clucked. “They always leave the lime ones! No one ever leaves a strawberry.” “That’s true,” said Marcel as he scrambled to the row in front of Auntie and poked his nose between two seats to squint at her. He could count on his paws the number of times they’d come across a coveted strawberry Fruit Gem. “Now, why do you think that is, dearie?” Two seats over, Uncle Henrietta opened one eye. “Because the lime ones taste like grass, that’s why.” “They do taste a bit leafy,” said Auntie Hen, eyeing the mountain of lime candies in the corner and shaking her head. “Like grass!” replied her sister. “Don’t forget about the yogurt raisin and Licorice Twithstssss,” said Marcel. “The what?” said Auntie. “The Licorice Twithsts