I
am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the CITY SPIES: MISSION MANHATTAN by James
Ponti Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar
Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to
enter the giveaway!
About
The Book:
Author: James Ponti
Pub. Date: February 6, 2024
Publisher: Aladdin
Formats: Hardcover, eBook, Audiobook
Pages: 430
Find it: Goodreads, https://books2read.com/CITY-SPIES-MISSION-MANHATTAN
In this fifth installment in the New
York Times bestselling series from Edgar Award winner James Ponti, the
young group of spies take on New York City in another international adventure
perfect for fans of Spy School and Mrs. Smith’s Spy
School for Girls.
The City Spies head to the Big Apple when a credible threat is made to a young
climate activist who is scheduled to speak in front of the upcoming United
Nations General Assembly. With Rio acting as alpha and a new member in their
ranks, the team’s mission to protect a fellow teen takes them on an exciting
adventure in, around, and even under the greatest city in the world as they
follow leads to the outer boroughs, the UN Headquarters, and even the usually
off-limits stacks that extend deep under the main branch of the New York Public
Library.
Grab the rest of the CITY SPIES BOOKS now!
Book Trailer:
1.
The
Swarm
Spy
missions were nothing like spy movies. All Cairo had to do was look in a mirror
to see that. He was about to go undercover for the first time, and rather than
a tuxedo or finely tailored suit, he was wearing a bumblebee costume. It was a
padded onesie over a pair of black tights and was very much not tailored.
“This thing’s giving me a wedgie,”
he complained, tugging at the seat of his costume.
“It was the best we could do on
such short notice,” replied Paris, who wore a matching outfit and was smearing
black and yellow greasepaint on his face. “When it comes to spycraft, the
bottom line is that comfort takes a backseat to blending in.”
“Maybe so,” Cairo replied. “But
right now, my backseat and bottom line are blending in with my underwear.”
Paris laughed. It was a good sign
that Cairo was able to joke right before his first official mission. Most
people would’ve been too nervous. “Welcome to MI6,” he said. “It’s oh so
glamorous.”
They were in Venice, Italy,
because the Secret Intelligence Service had gotten word of a potential threat
at a global warming demonstration scheduled for St. Mark’s Square. The event
was organized by a group of teenage environmental activists known as the Swarm, whose members dressed accordingly at
protest rallies.
“You ready?” Paris asked once he’d
finished putting on his makeup.
Cairo nodded, gave his costume one
final tug, and said, “Let’s get buzzing.”
This was their first time in
Venice, and it would’ve been easy for them to get lost because the city was
spread across more than one hundred small islands, but they had help navigating
its baffling blend of bridges and alleyways. As they stepped out of their safe
house, they heard a loud buzzing that sounded as though a massive swarm of bees
was overtaking the city.
“What’s that noise?” Cairo asked.
“Vuvuzelas,” answered
Paris.
“You mean those plastic horns fans
play at soccer matches?”
“The Swarm uses them whenever they
march to a rally,” Paris explained. “All we have to do is listen and follow.”
“Helpful,” Cairo said. “Annoying, but
helpful.”
As they tried to catch up with the
Swarm, the rest of the team was getting ready in St. Mark’s Square, which the
Italians called Piazza San Marco. Sydney and Brooklyn were stationed near the
security gates through which all the protesters had to pass, while Rio and
Monty were backstage keeping an eye on the speakers scheduled to talk at the
rally.
Kat was the alpha, which meant
she’d call the shots once the mission got underway. She was positioned on the
observation deck atop the bell tower overlooking the square. Four hundred years
earlier, this was where Galileo looked to the heavens with his newly invented
telescope and discovered order in the universe. Now it was where a
fourteen-year-old spy looked across a sea of demonstrators, hoping to figure
out which ones were a threat to the others.
“Testing comms, one, two, three,”
she said into the microphone hidden in her jacket collar. “Can everyone hear
me?”
“Roger that,” replied Sydney.
“Loud and clear,” Brooklyn added.
“All good,” said Monty.
“Good for me, too,” answered Rio.
Kat waited a moment before
prodding, “Paris, Cairo, are you in range?”
“You’ll have to speak up,” Cairo
said, trying to be heard over the noise around them. “It’s pretty loud over
here.”
He and Paris had just joined up
with dozens of protesters dressed as bees and making a ruckus as they paraded
through the city. In addition to blaring vuvuzelas, some of them pounded drums,
while others chanted, “Be-a-triz! Be-a-triz!” in honor of their leader.
“We’re on the Rialto Bridge
crossing the Grand Canal,” Paris said, raising his voice. “We should reach St.
Mark’s in about ten minutes.”
“What about you, Mother?” Kat
said. “I know you can’t answer directly, but if you can hear us, let us know by
asking someone a question.”
Mother was one of the two adult
agents who oversaw the team. MI6 had managed to place him inside Venice’s
state-of-the-art Control Room. This was the highly secretive—and somewhat
controversial—location where local authorities used a web of sensors, CCTV
cameras, and mobile-phone trackers to monitor every person visiting the city.
It would’ve caused an uproar if the Italians found out a British agent was
running a mission from here, so Mother couldn’t be overheard communicating
directly with the others. Instead, he turned to a nearby police officer and
asked, “Dov’é il bagno?”
“Seriously?” Sydney said with a
laugh. “That’s the best you could come up with?”
“You know what that means, don’t
you?” Kat asked.
“Yes,” answered Sydney. “It means
‘Where’s the bathroom?’”
“True, but it also means that the
comms are set and everyone’s in position,” Kat said. “And that means ‘This operation is hot. We are a
go!’”
This was the phrase the alpha said
to launch every mission for the City Spies, an experimental team of six covert
agents, aged twelve to sixteen, who British Secret Intelligence sent on
assignments in which adults would stand out.
“Chills,” Brooklyn replied.
“Every. Single. Time.”
Shy and awkward by nature, Kat had
come into her own as the alpha on some recent high-value missions. She’d been
surprised by how much she’d enjoyed the role. “We are underway, and the rally
is set to start in twenty-three minutes,” she said, taking charge. “That means
open eyes and open minds. This is not a typical assignment.”
“And by that, are you referring to
the part where we’ve been told to look for zombies?” Rio replied.
There were snickers on the comms.
“Not just zombies,” Kat replied.
“I’ll settle for vampires, flesh-eaters, or any undead creatures you may come
across. We’re casting a wide net here.”
And that was the problem with the
mission. They didn’t really know what they were looking for.
Five days earlier, MI6 intercepted
a partial message sent between criminal syndicates in Kazakhstan and Turkey
that discussed an attack in St. Mark’s to be carried out on this date by . . . the walking dead.
That was literally what it had
said.
British analysts probably wouldn’t
have paid much attention to it if it weren’t for the fact that the protest was
happening at the same time world leaders would be in Venice for the United
Nations Climate Change Conference, which was being held across the Giudecca
Canal on the island of San Giorgio Maggiore.
The threat sounded like a joke but
couldn’t be ignored.
“The walking dead?”
Mother had asked when the team was given the assignment by his superior. “Are
you being serious? What does that even mean?”
“There are several possibilities,”
responded Tru, one of only a handful of high-ranking officials at the Secret
Intelligence Service who even knew that the City Spies existed. “It’s either a
code, a message that’s been garbled in translation from Kazakh to Turkish to
English, or the first sign of the zombie apocalypse. Whichever one, we’re going
to need someone there to keep an eye on things.”
The City Spies were chosen to be
that “someone” for two main reasons. First, because the rally was sponsored for
and by young people, it was easy for them to blend in. Second, the team’s
official cover was that they were all on student fellowships with the
Foundation for Atmospheric Research and Monitoring, a weather research center
in Scotland that was actually the headquarters for a covert MI6 operation. The
FARM, as it was known, was active in promoting climate change awareness, which
is how Monty and Rio were able to get backstage with the speakers.
“Você está nervosa?”
Rio asked Beatriz Santos, the sixteen-year-old activist who was scheduled to
give the main address at the rally.
She smiled, pleasantly surprised
to hear someone speak in her native language.
“Um pouco,”
she replied, admitting that she was a bit nervous. “Você
é brasileiro?”
“Eu sou carioca,” he
replied, which meant that he was from Rio de Janeiro.
Her eyes lit up and she beamed. “Eu também sou!” she said. So am I.
Although Kat was the alpha, Rio
had the most important assignment. He was supposed to get close to Beatriz and
watch over her since she was the most likely target of any attack. For him,
this was huge, not only because it was rare for him to get such an important
responsibility, but also because he was a massive fan of hers. He had to fight
feeling starstruck as they talked.
“Rafael,” he said introducing
himself with his cover name. “But you can call me Rafa.”
“I’m Beatriz,” she replied.
He laughed. “Yeah, I think I heard
that somewhere.”
The chants of “Be-a-triz!
Be-a-triz!” were ringing through the crowd, and she gave an embarrassed cringe.
“That must feel incredible,” he
said. “People just cheering your name.”
“It’s good for the cause,” she replied.
“But I don’t like the attention.”
“Really?” he asked, surprised.
“That’s too bad, because you sure get a lot of it.”
In just over two years, Beatriz
had gone from unknown concerned teenager to world-famous environmental activist. What started as
a one-person protest outside the Brazilian National Congress had grown into a
global organization with members in ninety-seven countries. Officially, she was
the director of the International Student Coalition
to Protect Rainforests, but among her ardent supporters, she was simply
known as Queen Bea, which is why they called
themselves the Swarm.
“Still,” Rio continued, “you
shouldn’t feel nervous about talking to a crowd that loves you so much.”
“I’m not too worried about the
speech in the piazza,” she said. “But there are people across the water who do
not love me so much. It’s important that I don’t make any mistakes that give
them an excuse to ignore what I have to say.”
After her speech Beatriz was
scheduled to take the five-minute boat ride across the lagoon to San Giorgio
Maggiore so she could address the world leaders at the UN conference. It would
be an intimidating audience that included the US president and British prime
minister.
“How do you keep calm when you
have to speak to a group like that?”
“I think of the bees,” Beatriz
said.
“The ones who dress up and chant
your name?”
“No,” she replied. “The bees who
pollinate a third of the food we eat. They are essential to feeding the world.
Thinking about them reminds me that even if you are very small, you can still
be very important.”
Rio flashed a charmer’s smile and
said, “Você vai fazer fántastico.” You’ll do
fantastic.
She held up both hands with her
fingers crossed.
Meanwhile, the crowd continued to
fill into the piazza.
“In case the incredibly loud
buzzing didn’t give it away, the Swarm just arrived at security gate number
one,” Sydney informed the others.
Fences had been erected so that
anyone entering the square had to pass through a series of metal detectors and
magnetometers as well as get patted down by officers in black jackets that read
polizia on the back.
“I can even see our busy little
bees,” Sydney added once she spotted Paris and Cairo enter the pat-down area.
“Bumble One and Bumble Two.”
“Make sure to get photos of them
both,” Kat said.
“To document the mission?”
Brooklyn asked.
“No, for future blackmail
opportunities.”
“Gotta love Kat,” Sydney said as
she snapped some pictures. “Always thinking ahead.”
“You’re all hilarious,” Paris
responded. “Besides, compared to the others, I think we look pretty good.”
“Keep telling yourself that,”
Sydney said. “But you may be mistaking this for our mission in Egypt.”
“Why do you say that?” he asked,
confused.
“Because you’re swimming in ‘da
Nile,’” she joked, eliciting more laughter on the comms.
“You walked right into that one,”
Rio said.
“All right, that’s enough,” Monty
said, laughing with them. “Loose is good, but this mission is important. We
need to focus.” Monty was the other adult with the team. She was the director
of FARM and was backstage gathered with the parents and advisors who’d
accompanied the speakers.
“All kidding aside, I’m wondering
if more of us should’ve worn costumes,” Brooklyn said. “We would’ve blended in
better.”
“Why’s that?” asked Monty.
“So many people are wearing them,”
she responded. “In addition to all the bumblebees, there are people dressed as
endangered animals, environmental superheroes, and even some with giant
papier-mâché heads of the world leaders. It looks like Halloween at security
gate two. Right now, the police are trying to figure out how to deal with two
creepy bird-people pushing a giant globe.”
“What’s the problem with it?”
Sydney asked.
“It’s too big to fit through the
metal detectors,” she replied.
“What do creepy bird-people even look like?” Cairo asked.
“They’re wearing black cloaks,
black hats, motorcycle boots, and white masks with big round eyes and long
beaks.”
“Those aren’t bird-people,” Paris
said. “They’re plague doctors.”
“What?” asked Brooklyn.
“In the Middle Ages, doctors wore
outfits like that when they treated patients who had the plague,” Paris said.
“They packed the beak with herbs and flowers to counteract the smell, which is
what they thought carried the disease.”
“They may not be birds, but the
masks are still creepy as all get-out,” Brooklyn responded.
“That’s what people thought in the
Middle Ages too,” Paris answered. “They freaked out when they saw one of the
doctors arrive in their neighborhood because it meant someone nearby had the
plague and was sure to die. It was like a real-life grim reaper.”
There was a beat, and then Kat
said, “The walking dead!”
About James:
JAMES
PONTI (he/him/his)
is the New York Times bestselling author of three middle grade book
series: City Spies, about an unlikely squad of five kids from around the
world who form an elite MI6 Spy Team; the Edgar Award–winning Framed! series,
about a pair of tweens who solve mysteries in Washington, DC; and the Dead
City trilogy, about a secret society that polices the undead living beneath
Manhattan. His books have appeared on more than fifteen different state award
lists and he is the founder of a writers group known as the Renegades of Middle
Grade. James is also an Emmy– nominated television writer and producer who has
worked for many networks including Nickelodeon, Disney Channel, PBS, History,
and Spike TV, as well as NBC Sports. He lives with his family in Orlando,
Florida. Find out more at JamesPonti.com.
Website | Twitter | Instagram | Facebook | Goodreads | Amazon
Giveaway Details:
1 lucky winner will receive a finished
copy of CITY SPIES: MISSION MANHATTAN, US Only.
Ends February 6th, midnight EST.
Tour Schedule:
Week One:
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1/22/2024 |
IG Review/TikTok Post |
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1/22/2024 |
Excerpt/IG Post |
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1/23/2024 |
Excerpt/IG Post |
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1/23/2024 |
IG Post |
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1/24/2024 |
Excerpt/IG Post |
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1/24/2024 |
Excerpt |
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1/25/2024 |
Excerpt/IG Post |
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1/25/2024 |
Excerpt/IG Post |
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1/26/2024 |
Review/IG Post |
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1/26/2024 |
IG Review |
Week Two:
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1/29/2024 |
Review |
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1/29/2024 |
IG Review |
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1/30/2024 |
IG Review |
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1/30/2024 |
TikTok Post |
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1/31/2024 |
IG Review/LFL Drop Pic/TikTok
Post |
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1/31/2024 |
Review/IG Post |
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2/1/2024 |
IG Review |
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2/1/2024 |
Review/IG Post |
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2/2/2024 |
IG Review |
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2/2/2024 |
Review |
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