Three modern teens, a 200-year-old diary, a literary mystery to solve.
Twelve-year-old Hyperion Frances Keats, great-great grand niece of poet John Keats, hates tip-toeing around her older sister's “medical diagnosis”. Why is Isabella so determined to turn her back on what makes her unique in a sea of wannabes? Is popularity more important than the truth?
The sisters and boy-next-door Will find themselves in the middle of a mystery after discovering a 200-year-old diary written by the girl who inspired the sonnet “To A Lady Seen For A Moment At Vauxhall.” The teens aren't the only ones after the answers found in the pages from the past, though. The LBT Brotherhood – a secret society dedicated to preserving the Romantic Poets three creeds of love, beauty, and truth – want the secrets contained in the diary to remain lost to time and will stop at nothing to silence Hyperion, Isabella, and Will forever.
I barely crack the door open before Neighbor Boy launches into a spiel that may or may not be rehearsed—I can't really tell because he's talking too fast for me to guess one way or the other. “Hi, I'm not a stalker or anything so don't get freaked out, okay? But I saw the historical marker in your front yard and had a couple of quick questions if you, uh, don't mind me, uh, asking. You don't mind me asking stuff, do you? I can go away if you do.” He blinks nervously a ton of times in anticipation of me either saying yes and waiting for his couple of supposedly quick questions or no and slamming the door in his face. Why would I say no? He's the prettiest boy I've ever seen up close. Even if boys don't like to be called pretty, with his huge blue eyes and unruly, anime character hair, that's the only word that comes to mind. Pretty. My heart does this funny little fluttery jump like I've run a mile in under five minutes and I'm positive my palms are too sweaty to shut the door. Even if I wanted to, shutting the door means he'd go away and there's no way I'm letting that happen. Especially not on my birthday.