The Inventor's Secret

by Andrea Cremer Narrated by Leslie Bellair

Overview

In this world, sixteen-year-old Charlotte and her fellow refugees have scraped out an existence on the edge of Britain's industrial empire. Though they live by the skin of their teeth, they have their health and each other. When a new exile with no memory of his escape or even his own name seeks shelter in their camp, he brings new dangers with him and secrets about the terrible future that awaits all those who have struggled has to live free of the empire's Machineworks. The Inventor's Secret is the first book of a YA steampunk series set in an alternate nineteenth-century North America where the Revolutionary War never took place and the British Empire has expanded into a global juggernaut propelled by marvelous and horrible machinery.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly

01/20/2014
Setting her self-described steampunk novel in an alternate 1816 in which the American Revolution failed and an insurgent war against a brutal British regime persists, Cremer (the Nightshade series) subverts the genre’s typical Victorian conventions with varying degrees of success. Sixteen-year-old Charlotte lives with her brother and other exiled children of Resistance fighters in the Wildlands outside the Floating City of New York. The appearance of an amnesiac boy with apparent ties to the city provides a reason for Charlotte to join an expedition to the glittering metropolis, affording Cremer opportunities to dress her heroine in silken finery and nurture a love triangle. Though a few inventions (e.g. the Floating City’s Great Wheel) inspire wonder, much of the technology feels too advanced a mere 40 years post–Declaration of Independence, distracting from the more intriguing political ramifications and cultural developments of this divergent timeline. Cremer handles the fantastical elements far better, hinting at rather than telegraphing the “secret” of the title. In revealing it, she sets herself up for a sequel that could be more cohesive than the series opener. Ages 12–up. Agent: InkWell Management. (Apr.)

From the Publisher

Praise for THE INVENTOR'S SECRET:

* "Cremer...creates an inventive blend of steampunk and alternative history in this new series. She gives readers a fantastical world with mechanical wonders and an opulent vintage setting. The characters are interesting and well developed. Readers will be drawn to future installments."—VOYA *STARRED*

"[A]n entertaining romp in a richly imaginative setting."—Kirkus Reviews

School Library Journal

03/01/2014
Gr 7 Up—Cremer, author of the "Nightshade" books (Philomel), has veered into a new world with this, the first title in an alternate-history series. She combines elements of steampunk and Victoriana to create an America in which the British won the Revolutionary War, descendants of the rebels are forced to labor in indentured servitude to atone for their forefathers' errors, and the children of those descendants are up to their eyeballs in plots against the government. Although the premise is promising, the execution is a bit of a miss. Character development is superficial, and a lack of historical context will exasperate readers. Most distressing of all is the female lead, Charlotte, who spends more time dithering over potential love interests than she does infiltrating the enemy and marshaling her troops. Teens who have come to expect strong female characters such as Katniss of "The Hunger Games" (Scholastic) and Alexia Tarabotti in the "Parasol Protectorate" series (Orbit) by Gail Carriger will be disappointed. Snappy dialogue and proficient world-building won't be enough to draw in kids.—Jane Henriksen Baird, Anchorage Public Library, AK

JUNE 2014 - AudioFile

Leslie Bellair narrates Cremer’s story of an alternative America, a steampunk land that lost the Revolutionary War and suffers as an oppressed British territory. Bellair’s lilting voice suits the character of 16-year-old Charlotte, who lives in hiding as a member of the American resistance movement. In the dialogue, Bellair captures Charlotte’s concern for her new friend, Grave, and the earnest hopes of both young people as they journey to the city to discover Grave’s identity. In the narrative, however, Bellair’s delivery is clipped and brisk, creating an overly perky effect that might have been softened by more fluid phrasing. Cremer’s inventive mechanical creatures and sympathetic characters help smooth the stiff presentation. Curiosity about Charlotte’s suitors and Grave’s past will keep listeners attentive—as will the cliff-hanger ending, which promises future installments. C.A. © AudioFile 2014, Portland, Maine

JUNE 2014 - AudioFile

Leslie Bellair narrates Cremer’s story of an alternative America, a steampunk land that lost the Revolutionary War and suffers as an oppressed British territory. Bellair’s lilting voice suits the character of 16-year-old Charlotte, who lives in hiding as a member of the American resistance movement. In the dialogue, Bellair captures Charlotte’s concern for her new friend, Grave, and the earnest hopes of both young people as they journey to the city to discover Grave’s identity. In the narrative, however, Bellair’s delivery is clipped and brisk, creating an overly perky effect that might have been softened by more fluid phrasing. Cremer’s inventive mechanical creatures and sympathetic characters help smooth the stiff presentation. Curiosity about Charlotte’s suitors and Grave’s past will keep listeners attentive—as will the cliff-hanger ending, which promises future installments. C.A. © AudioFile 2014, Portland, Maine

Kirkus Reviews

2014-01-08
Paranormal-romance queen Cremer (the Nightshade series) tries her hand at writing steampunk with an alternative-history twist. The year is 1816. The British have won the Revolutionary War, enslaved the Americans, and turned Boston into a prison and New York City into a socially stratified power center. Giant, robotic Imperial Labor Gatherers and man-eating rats terrorize the population. A colony of teenage resistance fighters are hiding in a remote maze of caves in the New York Wilderness. Tomboy heroine Charlotte rescues a mysteriously invincible but amnesiac boy, nicknamed Grave, and brings him back to the Catacombs. The plot thickens when fellow rebel, tough guy Jack, turns out to be the disgraced son of an elite admiral who holds a powerful position in Empire society. Piloting the made-for-movies Dragonfly, a fanciful insectlike aircraft tricked out in brass and leather, Jack flies Charlotte and her companions to the multilayered Floating City. There, disguised as aristocrats and servants from the islands, the rebels attempt to infiltrate the establishment and solve the mystery of Grave. Charlotte's steamy romantic intrigues with Jack and his Machiavellian brother dominate much of the action, leaving some plot details frustratingly opaque, including the titular secret itself. The cliffhanger at the conclusion of the novel clearly anticipates a sequel. On balance, it's an entertaining romp in a richly imaginative setting. (Steampunk. 12 & up)

Product Details

BN ID:	2940175548649
Publisher:	Dreamscape Media
Publication date:	04/22/2014
Edition description:	Unabridged
Age Range:	12 - 17 Years

Read an Excerpt

New York Wildlands, Amherst Province, 18161.Every heartbeat brought the boy closer. Charlotte heard the shallow pulls of his breath, the uneven, heavy pounding of his footfalls. She stayed curled within the hollows of the massive tree’s roots, body perfectly still other than the sweat that beaded on her forehead in the close air. A single drop of moisture trailed along her temple, dripped from her jaw, and disappeared into her bodice.
 The boy threw another glance over his shoulder. Five more steps, and he’d hit the tripwire. Four. Three. Two. One.
 He cried out in alarm as his ankle hooked on the taut line stretched between two trees. His yelp cut off when his body slammed into the forest floor, forcing the air from his lungs.
 Charlotte lunged from her hiding place, muscles shrieking in relief as they snapped out of the tight crouch. Her practiced feet barely touched the ground and she ran with as much silence as the low rustle of her skirts would allow.
 The boy moaned and started to push himself up on one elbow. He grunted when Charlotte kicked him over onto his back and pinned him against the ground with one foot.
 His wide eyes fixed on the revolver she had aimed at his chest.
 “Please,” he whispered.
 She adjusted her aim—right between his eyes—and shook her head. “I’m not in the habit of granting the requests of strangers.”Charlotte put more weight onto her foot, and he squirmed.
 “Who are you?” she asked, and wished her voice were gritty instead of gentle.
 He didn’t blink; his eyes mirrored the rust-tinged gleam of the breaking dawn.
 “I don’t know.”
 “Say again?” She frowned.
 Fear bloomed in his tawny irises. “I . . . I don’t know.”
 “You don’t know,” she repeated.
 He shook his head.
 She glanced at the tangle of brush from which he’d emerged. “What are you running from?”
 He frowned, and again said, “I don’t know.”
 “If you don’t know, then why were you running?” she snapped.
 “The sounds.” He shuddered.
 “Sounds?” Charlotte felt as though frost had formed on the bare skin of her arms. She scanned the forest, dread building in her chest.The whistle shrieked as though her fear had summoned it. The iron beast, tall as the trees around it, emerged from the thick woods on the same deer trail the boy had followed. Imperial Labor Gatherers were built like giants. The square, blunt head of the machine pushed through the higher branches of the trees, snapping them like twigs. Two multijointed brass arms sprouted on each side of its wide torso and its long fingers were spread wide, ready to clutch and capture. Charlotte’s eyes immediately found the thick bars of its hollow rib cage.
 Empty.
 “Who sent a Gatherer after you?”
 His voice shook. “Is that what it is?”
 “Are you an idiot?” She spat on the ground beside him. “You must know a Rotpot when you see one! Everyone out here knows how the Empire hunts.”
 The screech of metal in need of oiling cooled Charlotte’s boiling temper. A horn sounded. Another answered in the distance. But not nearly distant enough.
 She didn’t have time to mull over options. She lifted her foot from the boy’s chest and offered him her hand. The only advantage they had over the Rotpots was that the lumbering iron men maneuvered slowly in the forest.
 “We need to leave this place. Now.”
 The boy gripped her fingers without hesitation, but he shot a terrified glance at the approaching Gatherer. They were partially concealed from view by a huge oak, but the machine was close enough that Charlotte could see its operator shifting gears from within the giant’s iron skull. She watched as the man reached up, pulled down a helmet with telescoping goggles, and began to swivel the Rotpot’s head around.
 Charlotte hesitated a moment too long. And he saw her.
 Cranking hard on a wheel, which made steam spout from the machine’s shoulders, the operator turned the iron man to pursue them.
 “Go!” Charlotte shoved the boy away from her. “Run east! I’ll catch up.”
 “What are you—” he started to ask, but began to run when she pushed him so hard that he almost fell over.
 When she was certain he wasn’t looking back, Charlotte reached into her skirt pocket. Her hand found cool metal, and she pulled a small object from within the folds of muslin. It only took a few winds of the key before sputters and sparks leapt from her palm. She sighed and regretfully set the magnet mouse on the ground, pointing it at the encroaching machine. The little creature whirred and skittered away, its spring-anchored wheels accommodating the rough path she’d set it upon.
 “Come on.”
 When Charlotte caught up with the boy, she ignored the puzzled look on his face and grasped his hand, forcing him to run with her into the dark western wood, away from the now bloodred haze of early sun that stretched through the forest canopy.
 Between gasps of breath, his fingers tightened on hers. She glanced at him.
 His tawny eyes had sharpened, and he peered at her like a hawk. “What’s your name?” he asked.
 Charlotte dropped his hand and gathered her skirts to accommodate her leap over a moss-covered log.
 “Charlotte.”
 “Thank you for not leaving me back there, Charlotte.”
 She looked away from him, nodded, and ran a bit faster. Behind them she heard the explosion she’d been waiting for. Though they were hardly out of danger, Charlotte smiled, feeling a surge of triumph. But a moment later, a single thought chased her giddiness away.
 Ash is going to kill me.

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