CHARLIE HERNÁNDEZ & THE GOLDEN DOOMS by Ryan Calejo (Excerpt)

I am thrilled to share an excerpt from the first chapter of CHARLIE HERNÁNDEZ & THE GOLDEN DOOMS by Ryan Calejo! This blog tour is hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!

 

About the Book:

Title: CHARLIE HERNÁNDEZ & THE GOLDEN DOOMS (Charlie Hernández #3)

Author: Ryan Calejo

Pub. Date: September 13, 2022

Publisher: Aladdin

Formats: Hardcover, eBook

Pages: 384

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, Kindle, B&N, iBooks, Kobo, TBD, Bookshop.org

Inspired by Hispanic folklore, legends, and myths from the Iberian Peninsula and Central and South America, this bold sequel to Charlie Hernández & the League of Shadows, which Booklist called “a perfect pick for kids who love Rick Riordan” in a starred review, follows Charlie as he continues on his quest to embrace his morphling identity.

Charlie Hernandez still likes to think of himself as a normal kid. But what’s normal about being a demon-slaying preteen with an encyclopedic knowledge of Hispanic and Latino mythology who can partially manifest nearly any animal trait found in nature? Well, not much. But, Charlie believes he can get used to this new “normal,” because being able to sprout wings or morph fins is pretty cool.

But there is a downside: it means having to constantly watch his back for La Mano Peluda’s sinister schemes. And when the leader of La Liga, the Witch Queen Jo herself, is suddenly kidnapped, Charlie’s sure they’re at it again.

Determined to save the queen and keep La Liga’s alliances intact, Charlie and his good friend Violet Rey embark on a perilous journey to track down her captors. As Charlie and Violet are drawn deeper into a world of monstruos and magia they are soon left with more questions than answers—like, why do they keep hearing rumors of dead men walking, and why is Charlie suddenly having visions of an ancient evil: a necromancer priest who’s been dead for more than five centuries?

Charlie’s abuela once told him that when dead men walk, the living run in fear. And Charlie’s about to learn the truth of that—the hard way.

 

Grab the first 2 books in
the CHARLIE HERNÁNDEZ  series now!

 

Cover Video:

 

Excerpt:

CHAPTER ONE 

 

Death came for me at around lunchtime. I was walking out of Ms. Alonso’s third-period history, on my way to the cafeteria, and didn’t even see it coming. No one usually does. In fact, as I started down the hallway toward the little stairs plastered with prom posters, all I saw was a girl. And she didn’t look particularly deadly, either. She was, as a matter of fact, seriously pretty. I mean, who would’ve thought somebody that cute was gonna bring about the end of the world? Definitely not me, or else I wouldn’t’ve stood there like some starry-eyed goof, basically just gawking at her as she slipped her way between the streams of hungry middle schoolers and came right up to me. 

“¿Perdona, tú eres Charlie Hernández?” 

Large hazel eyes blinked up at me from beneath ridiculously long, ridiculously thick lashes, and I think I might’ve managed a couple of blinks myself. I think. . . . 

She tried again. “Are you Charlie Hernández?”  

And this time I managed a whole nod. (Impressive, I know.) But before I could work up to an “Uh,” or a “Huh,” or even an “Uh-huh, that’s me!” her hands snapped out, quick as a thought, and she was shoving me backward— back, back, back past the broken water fountain, past the row of second-floor lockers, past the little janitor’s closet with all the brooms inside, and through a door very clearly marked GIRLS’ RESTROOM. 

“Hey, what are you DOING?” I hissed, watching her flip the dead bolt. 

“Locking the door.” 

“Yeah, that I can see. My question is, WHY?”

“¿Cuál es el problema?”

“The problem is that this is a girls’ bathroom!”

“So?”

“So there could’ve been A GIRL in here!”

“There is a girl in here.” 

“WHAT! Where?” I whirled, my heart doing its best flippity-floppity, fish-out-of-water impersonation; and a moment later I felt the tap of a cold finger on my shoulder. “Right behind you . . .”

Ah. Her. Right.

As I turned back around, I couldn’t help noticing that she was now staring up at me the same sorta way someone might stare at a three-headed mule. “You’re . . . different than I expected,” she said doubtfully. 

“Well, that’s kinda your fault for expecting. Most people don’t expect much from me. And it usually works out better for everyone that way.” 

Her dark eyes narrowed. “You seem tense.” 

“That’s because I am tense! And I’m getting outta here before someone catches us and I get even tenser!”  

I started toward the door, which was definitely a step in the right direction, but not nearly enough. I should’ve gone running out of that bathroom and not stopped until I’d reached the North Pole. (Which, in case you were wondering, was approximately 3,972 miles from South Florida.)  

“Wait!” Suddenly, Little Miss Shoves-a-Lot leapt in front of me, flinging her hands out like a traffic cop. “¡Necesito tu ayuda!” 

And it was the fear—no, the pleading in those last few words (“I need your help”)—that really got me. She sounded alone. And scared. And near tears. 

So I stopped. I stared at her, and she stared back. Her hair was thick and dark and wavy, and her skin was smooth and tan and so uniformly flawless that you had to wonder if she’d ever even had a single zit. 

She was almost too perfect to be real. Which, come to think of it, should’ve been my first tip-off. 

The second, though—easily—should’ve been her fashion sense. Or, rather, her lack thereof . . . She looked like someone who had been told how middle school kids liked to dress but hadn’t actually ever seen one. At least not in a while. Her hairstyle and bell-bottoms made her look like she’d just stepped out of Austin Powers’s groovy time machine, and her colorful purple sweater screamed eighties pop (and actually read, on one sleeve: THE 80S ROCK!).

She said, “I’m in trouble.” 

“Trouble?” Confused, I shook my head. “Well, in that case, you should probably find a hall monitor. And those are usually found out in the halls. . . .” 

“But I don’t need a hall monitor,” she said pleadingly. “I need a Morphling!”

 

About Ryan:

Ryan Calejo is the author of the Charlie Hernández series. He was born and raised in south Florida, where he graduated from the University of Miami with a BA. He teaches swimming to elementary school students, chess to middle school students, and writing to high school students. Having been born into a family of immigrants and growing up in the so-called “Capital of Latin America,” Ryan knows the importance of diversity in our communities and is passionate about writing books that children of all ethnicities can relate to.

 

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Giveaway Details:

2 winners will win a finished copy of CHARLIE HERNÁNDEZ & THE GOLDEN DOOMS, US ONLY. 

Ends October 7^th, midnight EST.

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