One great book club selection is "The Sisters Grimm," by Michael Buckley, illustrated by Peter Ferguson. For Sabrina and Daphne Grimm, life hasn't been a fairy tale. After the mysterious disappearance of their parents, the sisters are sent to live with their grandmother — a woman they believed was dead! Granny Relda reveals that the girls have two famous ancestors, the Brothers Grimm, whose classic book of fairy tales is actually a collection of case files of magical mischief. Now the girls, along with Puck, a boy both magical and mischief-making, must take on the family responsibility of being fairy-tale detectives. Their first case? A roller-coaster ride of an adventure to stop a giant from destroying their new hometown. With five books available so far and sixth due out in 2008, here's an excerpt of Chapter Two from book one, "The Fairy-Tale Detectives."

“What are we doing here?” Sabrina asked.

“We’re investigating a crime, naturally,” Mrs. Grimm said.

“Are you a police officer or something?” asked Daphne.

“Or something,” the old woman said with a grin. “Why don’t you get out and take a look around?”  She walked away, apparently to snoop through the rubble.

Having a two-hundred-pound dog lie on her lap had given Sabrina a charley horse, so she and Daphne decided to get out and stretch their legs.

“She talks to the house, and cows, and has all these crazy rules. Now she thinks she’s Sherlock Holmes,” Sabrina muttered.

“Maybe it’s a game,” Daphne said. “I’m going to be a detective, too! I’m going to be Scooby Doo!”

Despite all of Sabrina’s warnings, Daphne seemed to be having fun, something she hadn’t had in nearly a year and a half. It was nice to see a smile on her sister’s face and that old light in her eyes. It was the same look she used to have when their father would read them the Sunday comics or when their mother would let them invade her closet to play dress-up. Sabrina smiled and put her arm around the little girl’s shoulders. She’d let her have her fun. Who knew how long it would last?

Just then, a long white limousine pulled into the clearing. It was bright and shiny with whitewall tires and a silver horse for a hood ornament. It parked next to Mrs. Grimm’s car and a little man got out of the driver’s side. He couldn’t have been more than three feet high. In fact, he was no taller than Daphne. He had a big bulbous nose and a potbelly that the buttons of his black suit struggled to contain. But the most unusual thing about the man wasn’t his size or his clothing. It was the pointy paper hat he wore on his head that read, I AM AN IDIOT. He rushed as quickly as he could to the other side of the car, opened the back passenger door, and was met with a barrage of insults from a man inside.

“Mr. Seven, sometime today!” the man bellowed in an English accent. “Do you think I want to sit in this muggy car all afternoon waiting for you to find time to open the door? You know, when you came to me for a job, I happily gave you one, but every day you make me regret it!”

A tall man in a purple suit exited the limousine and looked around. He had a strong jaw, deep blue eyes, and shiny black hair. He was probably the best-looking man Sabrina had ever seen, and her heart began to race. That was, until he opened his mouth again.

“What is this? Heads are going to roll, Mr. Seven,” the man fumed as he looked around.

“Yes, sir,” Mr. Seven answered.

“I was told that this was taken care of last night. It’s just lucky that I realize that everyone who works for me is an incompetent boob or we would never have known this was still out here until it was too late. My goodness, look at that rubbish sitting there in broad daylight. What do the Three think I pay them for? I can’t have this nonsense going on right now. Doesn’t everyone realize that the ball is tomorrow? Heads are going to roll, Mr. Seven.”

The little man nodded in agreement. His boss looked down at Sabrina and Daphne and scowled.

“Look, the tourists are already here and they’re leaving their filthy children unsupervised. They are children, right, Mr. Seven? Not just a couple more of your kind?”

Mr. Seven’s dunce cap had slid down over his eyes. He lifted it and gazed at the two girls. “They’re children, sir.”

“The way they are dressed you would think they were circus folk. You worked in the circus for some time, didn’t you Mr. Seven?”

The little man nodded.

“Why, there ought to be a law about unsupervised children. This is a crime scene and it’s crawling with kids. Mr. Seven, let’s make that a law, if that isn’t too much trouble?” the man continued.

“No trouble at all, sir,” said Mr. Seven as he took a spiral-bound pad and a pen from his jacket pocket and furiously jotted down his boss’s instructions.

“See how easy it is to be a team player, Mr. Seven? I like your change of attitude. If you keep this up we might be able to get rid of that hat,” the man said.

“That would please me, sir.”

“Let’s not rush things, Mr. Seven. After all, you still haven’t given these children my card, which is incredibly frustrating, especially since we discussed this just last night. What did I tell you, man?”

“Give everyone your card. It’s good networking.”

“Indeed it is,” the man replied, tapping his toe impatiently.

“So sorry, Mr. Charming, sir,” Mr. Seven said as he rushed to the girls and shoved a business card into each of their hands. It was purple with a golden crown on one side and the words MAYOR WILLIAM CHARMING — HERE TO LEAD YOU written on it in gold lettering. Underneath the name were a telephone number, an e-mail address, and a Web site: mayorcharming.com. 

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