Excerpt from Out of the Blue by Sophie Cameron, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

"Almost there, Per," I murmur, stroking the white fur of her back. "Just ten more minutes."

I know how she feels. We've spent five hours in Dad's stuffy Renault Clio, stuck in traffic on the A9 from Inverness to Edinburgh. It's a shitty way to spend the summer holidays, but neither of us had any choice in the matter.

In hindsight, I should have known something was up when I woke to the smell of pancakes last Saturday. It was the first time Dad had cooked in months; ever since the Falls started, we've lived on a diet of microwave dinners, cereal, and takeaway pizzas. Just as Rani and I had finished drenching our plates in maple syrup, he gave a nervous cough.

"How would you two feel about going down to Edinburgh for a few weeks? I think…" He was trying to sound casual, but I could tell from his hesitation that I wasn't going to like what he had to say. "I think I could catch a Being there."

My food went cold as I listened, openmouthed, to his plan. He'd done some "research" (i.e., chatting with other Wingdings on CherubIM), and based on the fact that southeast Scotland has had the highest number of Falls in the world, had "come to the conclusion" (made a wild guess) that another one was due to land in Edinburgh "within the next few weeks" (at some point in the future, or possibly never—he'd figure out the details later).

"Think about it, girls," he said. "We'd finally be able to find out where they're coming from and why they're falling."

I put up a fight. Dad pretended to listen, but when I finally ran out of reasons why this was the stupidest idea since chocolate teapots, he just smiled and ruffled my hair.

"I know it's a long shot, Jaya," he said, "but I really need to do this."

The car glides through a puddle, splashing the windows with murky rainwater. My phone buzzes. I know it won't be from Leah, but my heart leaps with hope all the same. Instead, I find Emma's name on the screen.

Look what sad sausages we are without you! Attached is a photo of her and Sam pretending to cry, their frowns hidden behind curved hot dogs. The sky above them is bright blue, perfect weather for a barbecue. They're only two hundred miles away, but suddenly the space between here and home seems infinite.

I'm tapping out my reply when Rani pipes up with another update. My sister is on constant Being-watch. She could tell you when and where each one fell, what he or she looked like, sometimes even how much their blood and feathers sold for. Personally I think there's something kind of creepy about an eleven-year-old trawling the internet for news of dead bodies, but Dad finds it useful.

"Listen to this," she says. "'Today's news means that seven Beings have now landed in Malaysia. The only other country to have hosted as many Falls is Scotland, also with seven; Russia has seen five, and Algeria four.'"

I twist in my seat to face Dad. "What if you got it wrong? What if the next one falls in Malaysia? I mean, they've had just as many, so it's just as likely, right?" I kick my right foot onto the dashboard, jab a toe at the sealskin-colored sky. "Maybe we should be on our way to Kuala Lumpur right now. At least it'd be sunny there."

"Malaysia's a lot bigger than Scotland, Jaya," Dad says, swatting my shoes away. "Plus, the Falls over there have been scattered all around the country, whereas here they've had seven within thirty miles of the city. There's no comparison. If I'm going to catch one anywhere, it'll be in Edinburgh."

I grit my teeth, trying to still the anger bubbling up inside me. He's so stupid. This whole "plan" is so ridiculous. You can't catch a Being. You just can't. They fall at unbelievable speeds. They've smashed through buildings, turned highways into craters. One caused a mini tidal wave when she fell in the South Pacific, and another killed a woman when he landed on her in a town square in Armenia. It's not a bloody Looney Tunes cartoon: you can't stick a trampoline under them and spring them back to safety.

Excerpted from Out of the Blue by Sophie Cameron. Copyright © 2018 by Sophie Cameron. Excerpted by permission of Roaring Brook Press. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.