It centers on Max Einstein: a curious young genius.
Its Pattersons big new series, and the author is prepared to preview it exclusively with EW.
Below, you could see the official cover for the new book, as well as read an excerpt.
Read on, and pre-orderThe Genius Experimenthere.
Even though she was shivering, she threw off her blanket and hopped out of bed.
Actually, it wasnt really a bed.
More like a lumpy, water-stained mattress with frayed seams.
But that didnt matter.
Ideas could come wherever they wanted.
She raced down the dark hall.
The floorboardsbare planks laid across rough beamscreaked and wobbled with every step.
Her red hair, of course, was a bouncing tangle of wild curls.
It was always a bouncing tangle of wild curls.
Max rapped her knuckles on a lopsided door hanging off rusty hinges.
What the… came a sleepy mumble.
Max took that question as permission to enter Mr. Kennedys apartment.
She practically burst through his wonky door.
Im fine, Mr. Kennedy.
In fact, Im better than fine!
Ive got something great here!
At least I think its something great.
Anyway, its really, really cool.
This idea could change everything.
It could save our world.
Its what Mr. Albert Einstein wouldve called an aha moment.
Yes, Mr. Kennedy?
Its six oclock in the morning, girl.
Sorry about the inconvenient hour.
But you never know when a brainstorm will strike, do you?
Not withyou,anyway…
Max was wearing a floppy trench coat over her shabby sweater.
He slid his bare feet into shoes he had fashioned out of cardboard and old newspapers.
Hang on, he said.
Need to put on my bedroom slippers here…
Because the floors so cold, said Max.
You needed to improvise those bedroom slippers because the floors cold every morning.
Maxinewere sleeping, uninvited, above a horse stable.
Of course the floors are cold.
And, in case you havent noticed, the place doesnt smell so good, either.
Max, Mr. Kennedy, and about a half-dozen other homeless people were what New York City called squatters.
That meant they were living rent-free in the vacant floors above a horse stable.
The top three floors?
As far as the owner of the building knew, they were vacant.
Winter is coming, Mr. Kennedy.
We have no central heating system.
Because we dont pay rent, Max!
Be that as it may, in the coming weeks, these floors will only become colder.
Soon, we could all freeze to death.
Even if we were to board up all the windows
Thats not gonna happen, said Mr. Kennedy.
We need the ventilation.
All that horse manure downstairs, stinking up the place… Thats precisely what I wanted to talk to you about.
Thats my big idea.Horse manure!
yo hear me out, sir.
give a shot to see what I see.
She labeled it manure/biofuel.
To stay warm this winter, all we have to do is arrange a meeting with Mr. Sammy Monk.
The owner of this building?
said Mr. Kennedy, skeptically.
The landlord who doesnt even know were here?ThatMr.
Yes, sir, said Max, totally engrossed in the diagram she was drafting on the wall.
We need to convince him to let us have all of his horse manure.
Mr. Kennedy stood up.
All of his manure?
Now why on earth would we want that, Max?
A green what mill?
You want to burn horse manure gas?
Thats the solution to our heating and power problems.
You sure youre just twelve years old?
As far as I know.
Mr. Kennedy gave Max a look that she, unfortunately, was used to seeing.
The look said she was crazy.
But Max never let the look upset her.
It was like Albert Einstein said, Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds.
Not that Mr. Kennedy had a mediocre mind.
Max just wasnt doing a good enough job explaining her bold new breakthrough idea.
She sketched a boxy cube fenced in by a pen of steel posts.
Heavy plastic would be best, of course.
And it would be good if it had a cage of galvanized iron bars surrounding it.
Mr. Kennedy stroked his stubbly chin and admired Maxs detailed design of the equipment sketched on the flaking wall.
A brilliant idea, Max, he said.
Max allowed herself a small, proud smile.
Thank you, Mr. Kennedy.
Whats that, sir?
Well, that container there.
Ten feet by ten by ten feet?
And you say you need a cage of bars around it.
You also mentioned three pipes.
To spin our own electricity.
Wont that cost a whole lot of money?
Max lowered her chalk.
And have you ever noticed the one thing most people squatting in this building dont have?
Max pursed her lips.
Max tucked the stubby chalk back into her sweater pocket and dusted off her pale, cold hands.
Point taken, Mr. Kennedy.
As usual, I need to be more practical.
Ill get back to you with a better plan.
Ill get back to you before winter comes.
Mr. Kennedy climbed back into his lumpy bed and pulled up the blanket.
Just dont get back to me before seven oclock, okay?
