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Informationen zum Autor From cupcakes to ice cream and donuts! When she’s not daydreaming about yummy snacks, Coco Simon edits children’s books and has written close to one hundred books for children, tweens, and young adults, which is a lot less than the number of cupcakes, ice cream cones, and donuts she’s eaten. She is the author of the Cupcake Diaries, the Sprinkle Sundays, and the Donut Dreams series. Her newest series is Cupcake Diaries: The New Batch. Klappentext "Mia is having a terrible day! Everything is going wrong. She woke up late and couldn't make her hair look perfect or brush her teeth, she probably failed a pop quiz, and she broke her glasses! But when her mom's cousin Laura arrives from Puerto Rico, she gives Mia a bracelet with a lucky charm. All of a sudden, Mia's luck changes for the better. Mia's thrilled--she'll never have a bad day again--or will she?"--Page 4 of cover.Mia the Way the Cupcake Crumbles CHAPTER 1 I Told You I Hate Mondays! It was one of those dreams that you wished would go on and on. I was at a fashion show, and there were tons of celebrities in the seats. And these models, who all looked like my friend Emma Taylor, were walking down the runway, wearing the most gorgeous clothes. And I had designed them all! Everyone kept clapping and clapping. Then the dream crowd began to chant. “Mia! Mia! Mia!” “Mia!” I woke up with a start at the sound of Mom calling my name. Why is she waking me up? I wondered groggily. She knows I set my alarm every night, and I wake up at six forty-five every morning—in time to get dressed, eat my breakfast, and, most important, do my hair. I was feeling really cranky that Mom had interrupted my dream—and then I looked at the clock: 7:06. “Mia, did you forget to set your alarm?” Mom called up to me. I groaned in reply. Yes, I had, but I hated to admit it out loud. “Mondays,” I mumbled, climbing out of bed. Mondays are bad enough as it is, but they’re even worse when you’re running twenty minutes late. I ran into the bathroom and quickly jumped in the shower. Normally, I like to leave my conditioner in my hair for a full three minutes, but I knew I didn’t have time. I slopped it on and rinsed it out. It would have to do. I toweled it dry and quickly got dressed in skinny jeans and a plain black T-shirt—classic, and my go-to look for when I’m in a hurry. And my black flats are the perfect touch. “Mia! Breakfast!” Mom called again. “I’ll take it on the bus!” I called back down, and then I turned on my blow-dryer so I wouldn’t have to hear Mom if she argued with me. I have this attachment that lets me comb and dry my hair at the same time and makes my hair supershiny. I had just finished the left side of my head when my blow-dryer made this funny wheezing noise. Then it just stopped. “Come on!” I said, pushing the button in and out. I checked the cord and saw that it was plugged in. Frustrated, I pushed the button again, but it still didn’t work. I hated to admit defeat, but I knew it was broken. Now one side of my hair was perfectly flat, and the other side was starting to dry into a wavy mess. I ran to the top of the stairs. “Mom! Can I use your blow-dryer? Mine’s broken, and my hair looks weird!” I called down. Mom came to the bottom of the stairs and looked up at me. “Mia, your bus will be here any minute. I made you eggs, and you are not going to miss breakfast just so you can make your hair look perfect. Please get down here right now.” “But I can’t go out with my hair like this!” I wailed. “Put it in a ponytail,” Mom snapped, and walked away. I was feeling p...
