I loved that Michael Vey, the protagonist has a neurological disorder. Not only that, Evans is a brilliant story teller. Fortunately, this book did not leave me in tears nor did it leave me with an uncontrollable urge to drive to Meridian, Idaho (it's a real place) or Pasadena, California. Still, others have found his books endearing and he spends an inordinate amount of time on the New York Times Best Sellers. I hate contrived tragedies which is why I never watch Little House on the Prairie, anymore. How much of this story was true? Then I calmed down enough to just be ticked off at him for making me cry. In fact, I was in a rather obsessive mood and considered how it would look if I disappeared for a couple of hours and drove to the cemetery to see if the grave marker really existed. I sat in the corner of the living room, reading The Christmas Box and cried. My take: Richard Paul Evans ruined Christmas for me one year. Michael will have to rely on his wits, powers, and friends if he’s to survive.
With the help of Michael’s friend, Ostin, the three of them set out to discover how Michael and Taylor ended up this way, but their investigation brings them to the attention of a powerful group who wants to control the electric children – and through them the world. Michael thinks he's unique until he discovers that a cheerleader named Taylor also has special powers.