Showing posts with label Excerpt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Excerpt. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Altered by Gennifer Albin Chapter Reveal + Giveaway


If you do not know yet how much I loved Crewel you can read my review here (it has giraffe balls)! For the rest of you, you must know how excited I am to be on this chapter reveal tour for its sequel, Altered. On each stop, you will ge part of the 1st chapter until you've read it all! Plus, you get a chance to win an ARC!

*Altered, the sequel to Crewel, does not yet have a cover*

Altered Chapter One (Part 3)


[...Continued from Part 1 at Bewitched Bookworms and Part 2 at Cuddlebuggery Book Blog]

“Clearly the fact that we are in some type of forsaken alternate reality is much less important than your grudge against me, so can we get this over with and move on?” Erik asks. He moves out of the shadows to face his brother. Standing there, they mirror each other, and for the first time I study them as brothers. I’d only just figured out the real reason they were cold to each other at the Coventry: they were both hiding that secret. They’re exactly the same height, something I’d not noticed before, but Jost is bulkier from his work at the Coventry. He’s dressed in casual work clothes, unlike Erik, whose suit, while wrinkly, is still smart. Erik’s hair brushes his shoulders and Jost’s is longer, but although they share the same unruly waves, Erik’s silvery hair is smoothly slicked into place. Jost’s wild dark locks look like you’d expect after as much action as we’ve seen. The one thing that’s exactly the same is their piercing blue eyes.

“Grudge?” Jost laughs, but there’s a hollowness to it. “You think watching my wife, our sister, our mother get wiped from Arras resulted in a grudge?”

“Then why are you here? What purpose does it serve to run to the Guild if you hate them so much for what they did to Rozenn?” Erik demands.

“That’s our problem.” Jost steps closer to him. “You’ve never understood. Even I knew why Rozenn’s brother and his friends were discontent. I know what the Guild is capable of, and so do you. How can you turn a blind eye? You’ve become one of them.”

“Jost, you were at the Coventry for two years, and I never once let it slip you were from Saxun.”

“It would have given away your own secret. You wouldn’t want those officials knowing you were a fisherman’s son,” Jost accuses.

Erik’s jaw tightens.  “I never once gave them a reason to suspect your motives, but I’ll be honest with you, I don’t understand what you were waiting for. I expected you to attack them, maybe even kill the Spinster who did it. Anything,” Erik says. “I wouldn’t have blamed you. I stood back, and you did nothing. I actually thought maybe you’d formed some type of twisted dependency on them.”

“That’s not it.” Jost sighs, and the lightest of lines remain on his forehead and around his eyes. “If you understood then you’d know I wasn’t looking for some quick, simple payback. I want to understand how the system operates.”

“How will that help you heal?” Erik demands. “What can you possibly gain?”

“Myself ? Not much. But understanding the system and getting the information into the right hands could do more damage.”

“So that’s it,” Erik says in a quiet voice. “You were plotting treason.”

“And killing Spinsters wouldn’t have been that?” Jost asks, responding to the allegation in his brother’s voice.

“Killing the one responsible would be reasonable,” Erik says. “But destroying the system would undermine the peace the Guild has established.”

“Peace?” Jost echoes with a laugh.

I think of the people who have been ripped, the neatly orga- nized proof in storage at the Coventry, the look of defeat on my father’s face as he tried to shove me into the tunnel the night the Guild came to claim me. No part of me wants to laugh.

Jost grabs my arm. “Ask Adelice. Ask her what it’s like to rip someone from Arras. Ask her if it’s peaceful for them.”

I open my mouth to protest being dragged into the middle of this, but Jost doesn’t wait for me to respond to his point.

“Or better yet, ask me, Erik. Ask me what it was like to see it happen.” Jost’s voice drops down and trails off. None of us speak. “I watched it. I saw her slip away piece by piece. I watched as they took her away from me.”

“I’m sorry,” Erik offers. He sounds sincere, but even I know his words are far from enough.

Jost shakes his head slightly as if to clear his thoughts, and looks out into the dark. “Rozenn was better than any of us. You or me. So was our mother.” He pauses. “And my daughter.” Erik’s shock registers like a slap across the face.

“Daughter?” he mouths. No actual sound comes, but the heaviness of the word presses on my chest, and judging from their expressions, they feel it, too.

“You missed out on a lot when you took off.” Jost’s words are dismissive, but he doesn’t look away from Erik.

“You could have telebounded me,” Erik insists. Now he’s the one who sounds accusatory.

“And what?” Jost asks. “You would have come to visit? You didn’t come when Dad got sick or I got married. I knew where we stood with you when you left to serve the Guild. Your family couldn’t help you move forward politically, so we were of no use to you.

“You wouldn’t have cared,” Jost continues. “You were busy cozying up to Maela, following her orders like the perfect Spinster’s errand boy. Just like you’ve been busy weaseling your way into Adelice’s heart.”


...Read more tomorrow over at The Book Cellar!




Have not heard of Crewel yet? *gasp* Check what you're missing:



Crewel
Gennifer Albin
Series: Crewel World #1
Publication date: October 16th 2012
by Farrar, Straus and Giroux (BYR)


Enter a tangled world of secrets and intrigue where a girl is in charge of other’s destinies, but not her own.

Sixteen-year-old Adelice Lewys has always been special. When her parents discover her gift—the ability to weave the very fabric of reality—they train her to hide it. For good reason, they don’t want her to become a Spinster — one of the elite, beautiful, and deadly women who determine what people eat, where they live, how many children they have, and even when they die.

Thrust into the opulent Western Coventry, Adelice will be tried, tested and tempted as she navigates the deadly politics at play behind its walls.  Now caught in a web of lies and forbidden romance, she must unravel the sinister truth behind her own unspeakable power.  Her world is hanging by a thread, and Adelice, alone, can decide to save it — or destroy it.



About the Author




I like coffee. A lot. Writing gives me time to go get a cup without my kids. I like books as much as I like coffee, but it is easier to read with children hanging on you than drink coffee due to the threat of third degree burns. That's why coffee gets top billing in my intro: its unattainability.

I hold a Masters in English with a specialization in 18th century women's studies. While this is a highly marketable area of expertise, I stay home with my kids, which means my 3 year-old son uses correct grammar and doesn't burn down the house.

I have a ridiculously supportive husband who dreams of being included on a book jacket: "The author lives in Kansas with her husband, two children, and a Tuesday cat."

--

Altered Chapter One Reveal Tour:

Monday, May 20—Prologue and Part One of Chapter One
Bewitched Bookworms

Tuesday, May 21—Part Two of Chapter One
Cuddlebuggery

Wednesday, May 22—Part Three of Chapter One
Xpresso Reads

Thursday, May 23—Part Four of Chapter One
The Book Cellar

Friday, May 24—Part Five of Chapter One
BookYAReview


Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Damaged Sneak Peek + Giveaway!

Today on Xpresso Reads I have an awesome sneak peek of Damaged by H.M. Ward and a giveaway for your very own copy! ;)



Damaged
H.M. Ward
Series: Damaged #1
Genre: NA Contemporary
Publication date: April 7th 2013
by Laree Bailey Press


Life sucks. And, as soon as Sidney picks up the pieces something always knocks her back onto her butt. It's never pretty, but this time is different. This time pretty isn't even the right word.

Peter is the personification of perfection. It's like he fell off his angel perch in purgatory, because let's face it--any guy that hot has got to be naughty. He was probably sent here to ruin her life.

Peter is beyond beautiful with his sexy blue eyes, dark hair, and toned body. Add in his charming wit and Peter is everything Sidney ever wanted in a man, but when things get hot and heavy Peter shows her the door. Sidney takes the walk of shame and leaves. It's the end of the worst blind date ever. Her life couldn't possibly reach higher levels of suckage, but it does.

The next morning everything comes crashing down. The insanely hot guy from last night, the one that saw her half naked, is teaching at the front of the class room.


Damaged Sneak Peek



He watches me as I try to crank the engine. It doesn’t start. It doesn’t catch. I look at the little gauges and notice the battery. He’s standing next to me now. “So, you’re a mechanic?”

I shake my head, “I just pretend to be. It makes for more interesting evenings.” I grin at him, not sure what’s come over me. I never talk random guys, but it’s not like he’s random anymore, right? Hot guy’s face falls and I realize that he believes me. “I’m just kidding. I know a little about cars. For instance, I know this one isn’t going anywhere tonight.”

“And why’s that?”

“Your alternator’s dead. Either that or you shoved a hamster up the tailpipe—” My face falls. I wonder if he did something stupid. Guys do all sorts of stupid things to talk to girls. I get out of his car and slam the door. Then, I tilt my head and cross my arms over my chest. “Tell me that that isn’t the reason the car won’t start.”

He laughs and presses his hand to his chest, shocked that I’d say such a thing. “No, I didn’t do anything like that! And correct me if I’m wrong, but you were the one who came onto me first. I didn’t get here early and sabotage my own car just so I could meet a girl, who I didn’t know was coming.” The way he smiles is contagious. He runs his hands through his dark hair, like he wishes he could say more, but he doesn’t. The corners of his mouth curve and he gives me a look that makes tingles slip over my skin.

I step toward him, smiling too wide. “I did not come onto you!”

“You did. Right back in there.” He points toward the restaurant. His face is serious, all smooth features and big blue eyes. “You sat at my table and made me very uncomfortable. I haven’t had such a beautiful woman overtly hit on my like that before. It was quite embarrassing.”

My smile is making it hard for my mouth to hang open in shock. It keeps opening and then my grin snaps my lips shut. “I did not!” I know he’s teasing me, but I can’t stop. I don’t want it to stop and I realize that I’m actually laughing.

His arms are folded over his chest. He taps a finger to his lip like he’s remembering. “You did. You ordered wine and just assumed that I’d put out. Really Sidney, you’ll have to learn to control yourself a little better from now on.” He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, as he glances at his car.

I know he’s baiting me, but I can’t ignore him. I can’t walk away and I don’t want to. He smiles at me with those wicked lips. It makes me want to kiss him, hard. I change tactics. I want to throw him so far off balance that he falls over. I step in front of him and look up at him from under my lashes. “Okay, you caught me. I like you. I want you. I can’t keep my hands off of you. But tell me this, beautiful man; why should I bother controlling myself when I can tell that you want me so much?” Slowly, I step closer to him. Our bodies are a breath apart as I look up into his eyes.

He’s smiling and manages to say, “You shouldn’t.” He watches me, waiting to see what I’ll do. I feel my heart pounding. His eyes drift to my lips and back to my eyes. Every inch of my body flickers to life. I want to feel his hands on me. I want his lips on my mouth. From that look in his eye, I know he wants it too.

I lean in closer, teasing him. I feel his breath on my lips. His scent fills my head and I breath him in. “Are you always this irresistible?”

“Are you always this coy? Do you just flirt, leaving your lips way too close to a man that desperately wants to kiss you?”



Wednesday, April 03, 2013

Bitter Angel Sneak Peek + Giveaway

Today on Xpresso Reads I'm showing you a sneak peek at Bitter Angel and you can enter to win a copy! Let's see what this pretty is all about:



Bitter Angel
Megan Hand
Genre: NA Contemporary/Thriller
Publication date: April 1st 2013


Torn between two realities.
A choice that will mean life or death.
But she won’t know anything… until she wakes up.

College sophomore, Lila Spencer lived Friday night twice. She doesn’t know how or why, just that she did. As if she split in half and went in two different directions.

Out clubbing with her friends, Heather and Nilah, the girls rock it out and party hard. What begins as an innocent night will lead to a deadly fight for their lives, and Lila might be their only chance for survival.

In bed with her boyfriend, Jay, Lila is safe and warm as she drifts to sleep in the arms of the man she loves. Until she is sucked into a horrifying nightmare of her friends' deaths.

As the sunlight warms her face on Saturday morning, the two scenarios collide. But there can be only one outcome. Will she wake up in her warm bed with Jay by her side, devastated and grieving for her friends? Or was she there to save them?

The answer is just the beginning.

Bitter Angel Sneak Peek


Unfortunately, my words didn’t faze him. He just laughed and wiped his hands on a dry piece of his shirt. “Oh man. We haven’t had one as feisty as you in…” He rested his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Well, a long time.”

My heart hammered, but I put venom in my tone. “Where are my friends? I want to see them.” I strained forward, listening for anything that would tell me they were okay and alive.

I could hear music, loud and vulgar. Voices, all male. Laughter. Bottles clinking. I could smell the crusty scent of cigarette smoke.

He pointed to the closed door. “They’re out there, being taken care of. Don’t worry. They’ll be fine. It’s you that I’m not so sure about.”

“You sick son of a bitch. My friend could be on the brink of death, and you’re just gonna do nothing? If she dies on your hands, I swear—”

“Relax,” he cut me off. “She’s still breathing. Enough. We’ll drop her somewhere when everyone’s done. She’ll be fine.”

As I had kicked the driver’s seat earlier, I just as frantically pulled on my arms. “Let me out!” I screamed, hoping beyond hope that someone, inside or out, upstairs or down, could hear me in this hellhole. I had no idea if we were in a house or apartment building, if this was the only bedroom, or if there were others. From the looks of it and guessing the age of these guys, my bet was that this was their place of business where they brought all the girls just for this purpose. I highly doubted that they lived here, but I had nothing to back up my theory.

He rounded the bed. It creaked as he sat on the clean side. He caressed my jaw, my bloody lip. I cringed, ripping away from him, and he gripped me harder. From his pocket, he retrieved a knife. The blade winked at me in the dim light. I swallowed.

He grinned. “Still wanna scream?”

About the Author





At twelve, Megan decided to write a novel. A month later, she quit. A reading junkie by nature, she started writing again in her twenties as a way to get the voices out, because who wouldn't want to create a Real Living Person out of thin air? Megan also plays the piano and sings. She teaches little kids and takes pictures of pretty butterflies. She eats way too much chocolate, is sort of a mad scientist with her blender, and spends an unhealthy amount of time LOLing on Facebook and Twitter. She lives in Ohio with her husband and very smiley son. Bitter Angel is her first published novel.


Thursday, March 14, 2013

The Look Blog Tour: Guest Post, Sneak Peek + Giveaway

Sophia Bennett, author of The Look, is over at Xpresso Reads today for her US blog tour--her book having released in the US this month. We've got a guest post and sneak peek to her book for you today, as well as a giveaway! First though, let's see what The Look is all about:



The Look
Sophia Bennett
Genre: YA Contemporary
Publication date: March 1st 2013
by Scholastic


Can she be a supermodel and a super-sister? She finds her answer in just one look.

Two sisters, both beautiful in different ways: Fifteen-year-old Ted has got "The Look." That's what the scout for the modeling agency tells her, and she can't believe her luck. But just as Ted's jet-setting off on her new career, Ava is diagnosed with cancer. Can Ted be a supermodel and a super-sister? Or will she have to choose between family and fame? With their worlds turned upside down, the girls have to look past appearances, look deep inside, to figure out what really matters.


Writing About Cancer, by Sophia Bennett


Here's a bit of background about how I came to write about cancer in The Look.

When I was a teenager, my younger brother was taken to hospital with … something, they weren't sure what. But there was an infection deep in the bone and it didn't look good. By the time they'd worked out what was wrong, his blood was toxic and the damage was getting worse. He needed an operation and his chances weren't good. It was Christmas. The hospital consultant was so dedicated she let us stay in her own house while they operated. All I remember is that I was allergic to the Christmas tree in her living room and I was desperate not to sneeze because there was so much more wrong with the world than my inability to cope with indoor fir trees. He got better, but during that time, it was as if time stopped and we felt very, very alone.

Only one family - neighbours, but not people we knew very well - seemed to understand what we were going through. They were kind and sympathetic. They somehow knew what to say. They provided us with hot meals. They got us through. And then, a few months later, my mother told me their daughter had been diagnosed with Hodgkins lymphoma: a type of childhood cancer. I remember how shocked I was by that word, 'cancer'. And even after what we'd been through, that felt worse. If any family didn't deserve it (and of course no family does), they didn't. I worried for years about that girl who I hardly knew, until I heard that she was well again. 'Cancer' seemed such a bad word that news of her recovery was a shock too although, statistically, it shouldn't have been.

So, when it occurred to me to write about cancer in the new book I was thinking of, my brother's illness and that girl's diagnosis came flooding back to me. I felt (this was before 'The Fault In Our Stars', 'A Monster Calls' and 'Before I Die') that there wasn't nearly enough writing about cancer for teens. It's such a frightening issue. What happens if you're diagnosed with it, or a friend is, or someone in your family? What do you do? What's it like? What do you say?

I wanted to write about the effects of serious illness on a family: quite a close family - one that has a chance of pulling through. About how alone you feel, how time seems to stop, how you carry on anyway, because you have to, and how life goes on. But I didn't want to write from the point of view of the person actually battling the disease. I suppose I was thinking about my own experience, and I wanted to capture what it's like to be one of the people watching, desperate to help and not sure how.

I nearly didn't have the courage to do it. Cancer is such a serious subject and I wanted to be honest and accurate and not belittle the experience - but all within the confines of a book that was written to be entertaining and educational about a totally different subject, too: modelling, fashion and discovering your creative self. It helped that someone very close had been through the same experience as Ava, the sister who gets the diagnosis, and I knew I could trust that person to tell me if I was getting it wrong. Of course I did lots of research, and got an expert in childhood cancer from a big London hospital to make sure I got the basic facts right. He could help me with the latest treatments and outcomes, but not so much with the psychology of the patients and their families. For that, I relied on some fascinating academic research and on my own experience, which was not identical, but was very similar. When The Look talks about 'three grey faces' in a room, those were the faces of my family.

I also relied on serendipity. One of the key scenes in the book (which I've spoken about elsewhere) is when Ava has to get her head shaved because of the chemo treatment. For doctors, this is quite a minor side effect, as the hair will grow back, but for patients it can be the thing they most fear. Discovering this, and knowing how central it was to the book, made me feel that I was going in the right direction.

Since the book came out in the UK, some people have written to me to tell me that it helped them cope when a friend was diagnosed with cancer. It goes into quite some details about the symptoms of Hodgkins disease, which can often be missed for quite some time. If, one day, it helps someone discover it earlier, and get treatment sooner, that will be wonderful. I've also had the honour of judging a hat competition at a North London school, where the winning design each year is put into production to give teenage cancer patients something cool and practical to wear.

'The Fault In Our Stars' is brilliant, by the way - in my humble opinion. One of my favourite books from last year, and Augustus is one of my absolute favourite characters. This is a very different story. It is not about dying of cancer. It's about living with it and moving on.


Sneak Peek



Ted is on her way to an important meeting at her model agent’s house. Where her model agent’s son also lives …


And so, at seven o’clock, I draw up in my paid-for black cab outside a classic, tall Georgian house with five floors of glimmering windows. It is indeed so close to Buckingham Palace that I bet they get woken up by the sound of horses’ hooves clopping by first thing every morning to guard the Queen.
I step out in my new skinnies and the long, shaggy waistcoat they gave me at the Miss Teen shoot. I know I look a million times better than my hiking shorts days, but I’m still not sure I’m ready for Cassandra “at home”. I mean, I’m not wearing anything made out of silk, or gold, or by a famous designer. This must be the house that houses the über-wardrobe. It looks as if it could house several. It also houses Nick Spoke, of course, but I tell myself to assume that he won’t be there, because he’s probably at art college by now, or out with his mates, or painting, or “dabbling in photography.” And besides, he’s not interested in me. So it wouldn’t make any difference if he turned out to be the person who opened the door.
I stand there for ages after ringing the bell. Have I got the right house? Is anyone coming? Then I hear the sound of bolts being drawn. The door opens. He’s standing there. In a paint-spattered shorts made out of an old pair of jeans, cut off at the knees, an old polo shirt and bare feet. He makes me look positively over-dressed. He sees it’s me, with my mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, and smiles slowly. I guess at least I’m not semi-naked this time. It’s a start.
“Come in.” He turns back and shouts. “Eugenia! Guest for mum!” Then he stands aside so I can enter the large hallway, which is lined with paintings. Away from his mother, he’s more relaxed and positively polite. “Sorry. Big house,” he says. “Nobody ever hears the door. Got a meeting?”
I nod. I am so articulate.
Nick looks at his watch and nods to himself. “She’s working late again. Haven’t seen her all evening.” He hesitates and looks at me through his owlish glasses. “I like –“ He stops.
“Yes?” I ask, hopefully. I’ve never heard him say he likes anything before. Except Abstract Expressionism. And natural light.
He laughs. “I like your … shaggy thing.”
I can’t help smiling. He perhaps has an eye for fashion, despite himself, but certainly not his mother’s vocabulary for it.
“Thanks. I like your ...”
He stares at me. What was I going to say?
“Paint.”
I indicate the artful spatter on his top and shorts. I am pointing at his shorts. I just said I liked his paint. Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god.
His smile turns to a grin. Not Nightmare Boy at all, right at this moment. Although I am possibly Nightmare Girl. I like your paint. Honestly.
“Come on up,” he says.
I follow him up a grand, curving staircase, so close we’re almost touching. I can hear the sound of running steps on the landing above us. A woman in a comfy t-shirt and track pants meets us at the top of the stairs.
“So sorry!” she echoes. “I was doing the ironing …”
“No problem,” he tells her. “Ted, this is Eugenia. She’ll take care of you. Eugenia, this is Ted Trout. Actually, you’re Ted something else now, aren’t you?”
“Trout will do,” I say. Knowing what I know about him, I’d rather he thought of me as Ava’s sister than ‘aspiring model’.
As if reading my mind, he looks concerned. “About your sister ... Is she …?”
“She’s …” I shrug. I’m not going to tell him she’s fine when she spent most of the afternoon trying to eat a tiny bowl of salad without throwing up.
He understands and nods sympathetically.
From a nearby room, Cassandra’s voice booms out. “Is she here yet? Show her to the study, would you?”
“Right,” Nick says to me, with a small, awkward pause. “Anyway. See you.”
“Yes. Great,” I say – keeping up my reputation for witty conversation.
He heads on up the next set of stairs. I watch him go. Note to self. Do not point at the shorts of any boy you find interesting and admire their decoration. But definitely wear the ‘shaggy thing’ again.


About the Author





I’ve written for The Times and The Guardian, and also four unpublished detective stories, but my breakthrough was winning The Times/Chicken House Children’s Fiction competition with Threads. It’s about fashion, celebrity watching, being a teenager in London, conflict survival and, above all, friendship. Basically, it’s my manifesto and I’m amazed and thrilled that the likes of Barry Cunningham, Amanda Craig, David Almond and Jonathan Douglas liked it, understood it and didn’t think it was too weird.

I’ve also written two sequels to Threads – Beads, Boys & Bangles, and Sequins, Stars & Spotlights. My latest book, The Look, is about a girl who's scouted as a model and has to choose between fame and family.

Occasionally, people ask me what my advice would be to aspiring writers. Check out my writing tips page, on my website. Write every day, and rewrite even more. Follow your heart.



Monday, February 18, 2013

Pieces Tour Kick Off + Giveaway!

Today I'm kicking off the Pieces blog tour that will run from Feb 18th to Feb 23rd! check out the book and an excerpt, along with an awesome giveaway for all your swag needs! ;)


Pieces
Michelle Davidson Argyle
Series: The Breakaway, #2 (companion)
Publication date: February 14th 2013
by Rhemalda Publishing

Staying in love can mean running away...

Two years after watching her kidnappers go to prison, Naomi Jensen is still in love with one of them. Jesse will be released in a few years, and Naomi knows college is the perfect distraction while she waits. But when her new friend Finn makes her question what is right and what is wrong, she begins to wonder if Jesse is the one for her...until she discovers he's out on parole. Naomi must sort through her confusion to figure out where love and freedom truly lie-in Finn, who has no connections to her past, or Jesse, who has just asked her to run away with him.

The Breakaway Series:
Note that Pieces is a companion and can be read without having read The Breakaway!


Sneak Peek



Pieces Excerpt
From Chapter 6

She almost didn’t recognize him behind the wheel of his father’s green pickup truck. His hair was longer than she remembered. For a moment, her mind spun. She dropped the box in her hands and it fell to the floor, spilling the pink and white candies everywhere. He was parking almost directly across the street from her now. As stupid as it was, she hadn’t planned this far. Now he was getting out of the truck.

She had long since rolled up her window and turned on the air conditioning, so it wasn’t as if she could yell to him. Instead, she opened her door as fast as she could and tripped over her feet as she stumbled out onto the road. She shut the door and the sound made Jesse stop and look up before he could shut the truck’s door. His mouth dropped open.

“Naomi?”

“I heard you were on parole.” She brushed a sweaty hand across her forehead. “I … I—”

“I’m not allowed to see you,” he interrupted, taking a step back. But he had nowhere to go except the truck. His hand lingered on the open door. “I’ll be sent back to prison if I attempt to contact or see you. I’m not even sure I can see you after my parole is over. It might be long time.” He looked at his hands. “I have a hearing next week. I’ll find out more then.”

Even from across the street, Naomi could see the muscles in his jaw tightening with anger. She knew it wasn’t aimed at her. “But you aren’t attempting,” she said. “I’ve taken that initiative, so it’s not your fault.”

“Yes, but if my parole officer finds out about this, he won’t be happy. I was lucky enough to be released to my father. If you’re found here, I’ll be in more trouble than you can imagine.” His face was stiff, his body tense. Naomi realized what a mistake she had made, but there he was, right in front of her. It was too much. She took a step forward, relieved the road was quiet with no traffic at the moment. Jesse glanced down the street, then back to her. His expression softened as she walked toward him. Each of her steps were heavy, as if she didn’t believe she would ever reach him.


About the Author







Michelle's Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter
Michelle lives and writes in Utah, surrounded by the Rocky Mountains. She loves the seasons, but late summer and early fall are her favorites. She adores chocolate, sushi, and lots of ethnic food, and loves to read and write books in whatever time she can grab between her sword-wielding husband and energetic daughter. She believes a simple life is the best life.



Monday, February 11, 2013

Phoebe Pope and the Year of Four Tour Kick-off + Giveaway

Today I'm kicking off the Phoebe Pope and the Year of Four blog tour that will run from Feb 11th to Feb 23rd! Let me introduce the book, show you a sneak peek, and you can enter the fabulous tour grand prize!


Phoebe Pope 
and the Year of Four
Nya Jade
Series: A Shapers Novel #1
Publication date: October 30th 2012
by Dreamwell Publishing

The students of Green Lane Academy roam their halls unaware that below their manicured campus exists a prestigious school of an entirely different kind . . .

Sixteen-year-old Phoebe Pope has enrolled at the Campus Below: a spy academy for shape-shifters hidden deep beneath the grounds of a boarding school whose humans unknowingly protect it. There, thanks to a carefully planned schedule, she leads a double life: spy trainee Below and normal teenager Above.

As if two course loads, concealing a secret power she alone wields, and coping with her father’s recent death weren’t enough, Phoebe finds herself developing major feelings for actor and teen heartthrob Colten Chase, who attends the Campus Above and appears to be majoring in winning Phoebe’s heart. But when officials learn that Phoebe may be at the center of a startling prophecy, she becomes the target of shape-shifting assassins who will stop at nothing to suppress the truth.

Now Phoebe’s lessons about Shaper’s enemies and spycraft take on great importance as a menace stalks the campus, with Phoebe as its target. Meanwhile, what began as an unlikely relationship with Colten, quickly morphs into heartache when she suspects that something sinister lurks beneath this movie star’s glitter and fame. Suddenly, Phoebe’s caught in a mesh of lies, betrayals, and danger where she doesn’t know who to trust, and needs to rely on herself—and her secret power—to get to the truth and to stay alive.

Sneak Peek



One


Phoebe was too far away to sense whether the boy had one heart or two. Through the maze of trees with clattering leaves, she could see him moving with purposeful speed. He was headed toward her destination—a brownstone chapel perched at the top of a small hill. Not knowing the boy’s nature made Phoebe hesitate. Then came the sound of tower bells. Eight o’clock. There was no time to think of an alternate route. She was officially late for the Conversion.

A loud, echoing crack quickened Phoebe’s pace as lightning slashed the indigo sky above her. She had barely reached the base of the hill when rain began pounding down. Clutching the camera that hung from the strap around her neck, she sprinted the final stretch, arriving breathless.

Phoebe wiped the rain from her face, and then entered the chapel. Inside, light from moon-facing windows cast a misty glow across the sanctuary, the air redolent with the smoke of a blazing fireplace. She glanced around the heart of the nondenominational Green Lane Academy. It seemed so ordinary, so quiet, even peaceful. Rows of pews with velvet cushions ran the width of the room. She moved between them, taking care to remain in the shadows. An irregular shape in a dark corner caught her eye and Phoebe could just barely make out the outline of the boy. He knelt with his head between his hands, his body huddled against a pew. Praying.

Phoebe paused several feet away and waited. After a moment she felt energy seeping from the boy’s skin, raising the hairs on hers. Cold and electric, it meant one thing: the boy had only one heart. She couldn’t risk him seeing what she had come there to do. That meant waiting. Just then, something stirred behind her.


About the Author





Nya Jade is a singer-songwriter and author based in San Francisco. Her music videos have aired on the VH1, BET, and MTV networks. USA Today hailed Nya as a “young female troubadour worth keeping your eyes and ears on,” in an entertainment feature on up-and-coming singer-songwriters. “Her cool singing voice recalls Sade,” said the LA Times.

Between writing and performing new music, Nya took a musical sabbatical to focus on writing a novel—an endeavor she found quite daunting, until she began looking at each chapter as a verse in a very long song. Phoebe Pope and the Year of Four is her first novel.

In her free time, Nya enjoys hanging out with family and friends, searching for amazing gluten-free desserts, and bargain hunting for her next pair of funky shoes.

Nya holds a B.A. in Economics and an M.A. in Sociology, both from Stanford University.

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Sneak Peak Mini Tour: Weather Witch

Shannon Delany's debut series (13 TO LIFE) has concluded and a new steampunk series called WEATHER WITCH (also with St. Martin's Press) launches June 25, 2013 and is already available for pre-order. Delany warns that this series is darker and grittier than 13 TO LIFE, although still YA and still with romantic elements and she's asked a small group of us to share her cover and Prologue AND provide a way YOU can win some things.

Weather Witch
Shannon Delany
Publication date: June 25th 2013
by St. Martin's Griffin

 
In a vastly different and darker Philadelphia of 1844, steam power has been repressed, war threatens from deep, dark waters, and one young lady of high social standing is expecting a surprise at her seventeenth birthday party–but certainly not the one she gets!

Jordan Astraea, who has lived out all of her life in Philadelphia’s most exclusive neighborhood, is preparing to celebrate her birthday with friends, family and all the extravagance they might muster. The young man who is most often her dashing companion, Rowen Burchette, has told her a surprise awaits her and her best friend, Catrina Hollindale, wouldn’t miss this night for all the world!

But storm clouds are gathering and threatening to do far more than dampen her party plans because someone in the Astraea household has committed the greatest of social sins by Harboring a Weather Witch.

 Prologue (Part TWO--read part one at Beneath the Cover)
Holgate, Pennsylvania
1839

The door groaned open, hinges protesting as a man not even a half decade Marion’s senior — perhaps all of twenty-two — stepped onto the flat rooftop, briefly admiring the view beyond them. “You can see clear across the lake and the valley from here, you know? On days such as this I imagine a decent spyglass might let you glimpse as far as the rooftops of German Towne and Philadelphia itself,” he said loudly enough Marion heard. “What a spectacular day!” He raised his arms above his head a moment like an athlete warming up for competition and then clapped his hands together.
He smiled. A conventionally handsome man with a good jawline and a strong chin, his golden hair never fell into his eyes and his shirt and trousers always remained clean no matter what activity dirtied him. He took a moment to tie on his apron. The apron was a stark contrast to his perfect shirt and pants.
Marion shuddered at the colorful stains marring its fabric. Here a dark brown smudge, there a spray of rust-colored drops, there still more marks of a red so deep it put the bricks of Philadelphia's finest to shame. It appeared the apron had rested in a puddle of whatever that stuff was, it was so prevalent. 

...To read more, go to Hope, Love, and Happy Endings on November 15th!

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Valkyrie Rising Tour Stop: Excerpt & Giveaway

Valkyrie Rising
Ingrid Paulsen
Publication date: October 9th 2012
by HarperTeen

 
Nothing ever happens in Norway. But at least Ellie knows what to expect when she visits her grandmother: a tranquil fishing village and long, slow summer days. And maybe she’ll finally get out from under the shadow of her way-too-perfect big brother, Graham, while she’s there.

What Ellie doesn’t anticipate is Graham’s infuriating best friend, Tuck, tagging along for the trip. Nor did she imagine boys going missing amid rumors of impossible kidnappings. Least of all does she expect something powerful and ancient to awaken in her and that strange whispers would urge Ellie to claim her place among mythological warriors. Instead of peace and quiet, there’s suddenly a lot for a girl from L.A. to handle on a summer sojourn in Norway! And when Graham vanishes, it’s up to Ellie—and the ever-sarcastic, if undeniably alluring Tuck—to uncover the truth about all the disappearances and thwart the nefarious plan behind them.  

VALKYRIE RISING EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER 14

“The first new Valkyrie in a thousand years.” The voice stopped me in my tracks. In my relief and happiness at driving off Odin, I’d forgotten all about Loki. Unfortunately, my memory lapse wasn’t mutual.

“You’re brave to show any of your faces here, Loki,” Astrid growled, shifting in front of us.

“Thank you.” A smile curled Loki’s lips. “But it’s not particularly brave to show up for a fight you’ve already won.” His eyes found mine, and he winked. “You’ve done beautifully, Elsa. Exceeded my expectations. Even I didn’t think of branding Odin. Your only mistake was letting him escape.”

“Mistake?” Astrid glared at Loki long and hard. “Ellie doesn’t answer to you. Or anyone. Odin did what any wounded general would do when facing unfavorable odds. Retreat and regroup. Live to fight another day. We would never dishonor him by giving chase.”

“I want Odin,” Loki told me. He waved one hand behind himself, indicating the whole town. “This whole debacle more than establishes Astrid’s incompetence. She’s not strong enough to keep him under control.”

“Neither can you,” Astrid snapped, taking a step forward and looming over Loki by half a foot.

“On the contrary,” Loki purred. “I’ve been saving a special surprise for him. Courtesy of the same wise women who relieved Odin of his eye in exchange for his supposed wisdom. For all the good it gave him. Odin should have traded that eye for cunning instead. Then perhaps he would have fared better today.” The crowd in the street was too caught up in reunions to notice what was happening, this new, unwelcome
turn of events. Except for Margit, who started to approach warily, eyes widening in disbelief at the ever-shifting landscape of Loki’s face. I held up one hand, warning her to stay back.

“You can’t control Odin without me,” Loki said, crossing his arms. “You have no choice. I made sure of that.” Again Astrid was wavering. She didn’t know what to do about Odin, especially since her switch in allegiance was still new and raw. But no one in their right mind would trust Loki.

“Yes, you do,” I said, my idea still crystallizing as I spoke. “Just leave Odin alone.” My grandmother was the only one whose eyes didn’t widen at my words. “He traded his eye for wisdom. Maybe we give him a chance to put it into practice. Let him travel. Learn. Come to grips with how the world has changed.”

“Odin tried to make me kill Tuck?” Graham asked, rubbing his head like he could massage his brain back into
full working order. “We can’t let someone like that just wander around. Seems irresponsible. Was that really Odin like Odin Odin? I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.” I put a hand on Graham’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” I said. “It’ll take more than five minutes to catch up to the events of the past thirty-two hours. Even for you.” Astrid was nodding slowly to herself, her eyes scanning the road that led to Valhalla.

“Odin might be the god of war, but he’s also the god of knowledge,” I added. “And I remember enough of Grandfather’s bedtime stories to know he wasn’t always cruel. Maybe time will help him figure out that the modern world is okay as it is.” Tuck’s fingers squeezed mine. “Right. He can learn to surf. And if that’s not enough to satisfy his megalomania, maybe take over a few South American countries?”

“I’m serious,” I said, elbowing him. “We don’t have any other option. He’s immortal. He’s got powers I can’t even begin to understand. It’s not like we can just lock him in our bathroom. And Loki . . . well, you can bet whatever he’s up to will cause more problems than it solves.” Loki’s face twisted in abject fury. I was pretty sure he would rip out my throat on the spot if he weren’t so outnumbered.

 
Ingrid Paulson lives in San Francisco with her husband and daughter and enjoys long-distance running, eavesdropping, and watching science documentaries. She has always loved books and writing short stories, but was surprised one day to discover the story she was working on wasn't so short any more. VALKYRIE RISING is Ingrid's first novel.

Ingrid's grandmother might actually be a Valkyrie; she's still waiting for her to come clean.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Aurora Sky Cover Reveal & Giveaway

Today I have a very pretty cover to show you for Nikki Jefford's new book. She's the author of Entangled that I read and reviewed on the blog recently, and I'm excited to find out what she's got for us in this new vampire slayer book. Have a look, read the opening scene, and enter to win a great prize pack!

Aurora Sky: Vampire Hunter
Nikki Jefford
Series: Vol. 1, Transfusion
Publication date: November, 2012


Her blood is toxic to vampires.

If there is one thing eighteen-year-old Aurora Sky wants, it’s to get off the iceberg she calls home. Being kissed before she graduates wouldn’t hurt either.

Then a near-fatal car wreck changes everything. Secret agents step in and save Aurora’s life in exchange for her services as a vampire hunter. In Alaska.

Basically she’s a glorified chew toy. All thanks to her rare blood type, which sends a vampire into temporary paralysis right before she has to finish the job… by hand.

Aurora is alienating friends at school while attracting attention from the last person she wants noticing her – the dark prince of temptation himself: Fane Donado. And that can’t lead to anything good.

*This is a YA-Mature title for ages 16 and up.*

Aurora Sky book trailer


Excerpt
Opening scene
Aurora Sky: Vampire Hunter, vol. 1, Transfusion

     The fight broke out as I was passing the cafeteria. The expressions on passing students morphed from resigned boredom to anticipated glee. Aggression filled our eardrums. We surged forward—the sound like a rip-tide pulling us in.

     If I’d gone to fifth period I would have missed the smackdown altogether. Instead, I’d spent the last hour tucked behind the back aisles of the library with the juniors. My new friends were easy to get on with. They didn’t care about things like college and grades or extracurricular activities.

     Only one thing interested them. They liked boys who bit.

     My steps slowed as I heard the first antagonistic shout leave the cafeteria. I veered through the double doors and stalked behind the students who sprang forward for a closer look. The gymnasium-sized room was surrounded by windows, which did nothing to help North High’s freeze factor. By all accounts, I should have been shivering. I’d left the house in a pleated miniskirt—much to my mother’s horror—not even bothering to mask the white ghost flesh that were my legs.

     Every student in the area stopped what they were doing and gathered around the two boys whose taunts had turned to punching. The taller one got the shorter guy into a headlock and pounded his face.

     I didn’t recognize either student. They were just two more nameless hooligans going about the motions, which at the moment involved swinging fists.

     “Get him, Jason!” students cheered. “Harder. Knock that pansy to the ground.”

     A month earlier, I would have walked in the opposite direction instead of pushing my way closer until I was at the front of the horde encircling the boys. But that was before I’d been locked inside a room with a drooling, snarling lunatic and forced to kill him.

     “Stop!” the shorter boy yelled.

     “Don’t stop! Hit him, Jason! Harder!” the crowd screamed back. This was followed by an obliging smack against the smaller boy’s face.

     “Enough!” Shorty yelled.

     “You sure? You learn your lesson yet?”

     “Yeah, I’m sorry. You can stop. Stop already!”

     Jason pushed the boy forward and lifted his hands over his head in victory. His victim stumbled and nearly fell face first onto the squeaky cafeteria floor. The crowd began to disperse. I was planted to the ground, unable to move.
Something wasn’t right. A warning whispered up my spine.

     A look of murder settled deep within the beaten boy’s eye sockets. He staggered upright then walked to the nearest table. Shorty didn’t look dangerous. He was small and moved slowly. But to see his expression… it was unmistakable.

     He grabbed a fold-up chair and lifted it above his head as though it was no heavier than a textbook. Jason never saw him coming. The smaller boy approached silently from behind and slammed the chair over Jason’s head.

     I heard nothing. Sound ceased to exist. Blood sprayed the floor, landing in round droplets. It stained the ground inches from my black Mary Jane’s. I looked up and saw Fane Donado, dark as doom, staring at the blood with an expression of enrapture. I should have been disgusted, but when I looked at the blood again I felt something stir inside me.

     Jason lay flat on the floor. He wasn’t moving.

     The collected student population was momentarily gagged. The boy started towards Jason, chair still in hand. He’d kill Jason. He’d kill him and no one would do a thing to stop him. But I could.

     Sex and violence. They were my new specialties, after all, though at the moment I was looking far more forward to the violence.

     I stepped in Shorty’s path and yanked the metal seat from his fingers. I threw it aside. Sound returned like the clash of cymbals when the chair clattered to the ground. Something snapped inside me. I grabbed the boy by the hair and kneed him in the gut. He grunted in pain. His agony filled my ears like a sweet melody. I turned and jabbed my elbow into his ribcage. My skirt lifted several inches as I twisted into the punch.

     The boy howled. He couldn’t manage to fight back. He was too busy shielding himself from my blows. I pulled back a fist and socked him in the eye. Pain splintered across my knuckles, but Shorty was still standing so I aimed for the second eye. He couldn’t very well go back for the chair if both his eyes were out of commission.

     Suddenly I was falling backwards, being yanked from behind. I struggled and slapped at the hands that had latched onto my midriff.

     “That’s enough, young lady!”

     I went limp and allowed myself to be dragged out of the room by the arm and led directly to the principal’s office.

     The last thing I saw were the whites of Fane’s teeth as he grinned. A month earlier I wasn’t so much as a blip on that boy’s radar. Now he was everywhere, appearing at my worst moments, like Satan, witnessing my fall from grace.

     Fane should have been the last boy I’d crush on. He was trouble and he wasn’t going anywhere in life. Then again, neither was I.

     Not anymore.

     At the beginning of the school year I’d been counting down the months till graduation; starting college on the East Coast; new friends and freedom. But, no. The agents said I could never leave Alaska. I might as well have died in that car accident because I was trapped in hell—one complete with monsters. Now the only friends I had were groupies of the undead and the only boy I could think about might very well be a vampire.

     And if he was a vampire, I’d have to kill him.

As part of Aurora’s initiation as a vampire hunter, she’s thrown into a locked room with a rabid vampire. On a metal table inside is a choice of weapons. Which would you pick if you were in her shoes and why: Shotgun, ax, hunting knife, or the wooden stake?


Nikki Jefford is a third generation Alaskan who loves fictional bad boys and heroines who kick butt. She is the author of the Spellbound Trilogy and upcoming Aurora Sky: Vampire Hunter series. Nikki married Sebastien, the love of her life, while working as a teaching assistant in France. They now reside in the not-so-tropical San Juan Islands, 70 miles northeast of Forks, Washington.


Monday, August 06, 2012

Pre-Cover Reveal Excerpt & Giveaway: Nobody


This is a very exciting day on the blog today. I'm part of the pre-cover reveal for Jennifer Lynn Barnes' new novel - Nobody - and to celebrate the upcoming reveal I've got an excerpt on this mysterious new novel, along with an immense giveaway! If you're new to Jennifer Lynn Barnes you're in for a treat because not only do you get a chance to win a bunch, you can finally check out her books! Since I can't show you the cover for Nobody just yet, I made my own homemade cover to tease you with!

Nobody
Jennifer Lynn Barnes
Series: Standalone
Release date: January 22nd 2013
by Egmont USA


 
Synopsis to be revealed with the cover






The cover reveal is set for August 16th (hosted by Mundie Moms) along with the synopsis, so stay tuned! Though I can assure you it sounds and looks fantastic!


Nobody Chapter 1 Excerpt
Scroll down the box below for full excerpt!

Have a great summer! Stay sweet! Have a great summer and stay sweet!

Claire Ryan had been reading permutations of those words in the pages of her yearbooks for almost as long as she could remember, but for some reason—either optimism or stupidity, she wasn’t sure which—she’d thought that high school would be different. That she would be different. That by the end of freshman year, someone would have bothered to learn her name, invited her over after school, or at the very least asked to copy her geometry homework. But even the most egregious cheaters had remained as oblivious to Claire’s existence as ever, and by the first day of her fifteenth summer, all she had to show for the year was a perfect attendance record and a yearbook filled with sugary, meaningless clichés.

Her classmates didn’t like her. They didn’t dislike her.

They just didn’t care.


It’s not them. It’s you.

Claire pushed the thought aside and sat down crosslegged on the floor. Sliding the offending yearbook very nearly out of reach, she tried to focus on something else. Her hands found their way to her cell phone, and before Claire knew it, her index finger was dialing a familiar number, just to hear the sound of the outgoing message.

She could almost pretend that “please leave a message, and I will get back to you as soon as possible” was Motherese for “I miss you, and your dad and I will be home soon.”

Then came the beep.

“Hey, Mom. I wanted to let you know that the last day of school was—it was great. And things here are great. I’m . . .” Claire cursed herself, but couldn’t stop the word from rolling off her tongue, “. . . great.”

With the amount of time she spent reading and watching television, she really should have been a better liar, or at least a more creative one.

“Anyway, I hope you guys are having a good time. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be—

”
Not again, Claire told herself sternly. If you say great one more time, I swear to God, I’m never
speaking to you again
.

“I’ll be fine.” Claire was spared the trouble of having to disown herself, but barely. She waited one beat, maybe two, and then she ended the Message That Kept Going and Going by clarifying one last point that might have somehow escaped her mother’s notice. “Ummm . . . this is Claire. Love you. Bye.”

The moment she hung up, her phone joined the yearbook on the floor, and she closed her eyes.

Have a great summer! Stay sweet! Please leave a message after the beep.

“Story of my life,” Claire whispered, and the fact that the words came out quiet instead of hard was her first clue that the time for wallowing might be nigh. There couldn’t be something wrong with everyone else in the world. Common sense said that there had to be something wrong with her. If she could just say the right things, do the right things, be a little more interesting . . .

It’s never going to happen.

Claire Ryan was a ghost, a nothing, a nobody. Invisible would have been an upgrade. Oxygen was invisible, but it got breathed all the same. Sound waves were heard. Even clandestine farts had the distinction of being smelled.

Oh, God. I’m jealous of farts. Claire uncrossed her legs and fell backward, allowing her head to thunk viciously against her bedroom’s wood floor. I envy the noxious, gaseous excretions of the human backside. And my head hurts.

It was a new low, even for Claire.

I should lie here. I should lie here forever and never, ever get up.

Claire pressed her lips together and kept a tight rein on that thought. After a long moment, she forced herself to open her eyes, sat up, and reached first for the phone and then for the yearbook. Two minutes of wallowing, once a year. That was all she got, the closest she could allow herself to the edge of the abyss without letting it devour her whole.

I’m better than this.

Claire’s throat tightened, but she refused to let herself cry. Instead, she climbed to her feet and walked, one foot placed lightly in front of the other, to the bookshelf underneath her window. She’d made this trip many times before, to place other yearbooks on the bottom shelf and to pull old friends off more honored places near the middle and top.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. Ender’s Game. The Secret Garden. I Capture the Castle.

Claire closed her eyes and ran her hand along the spines of the books on the outermost row of the top shelf. Like a blind man reading Braille, she let her fingertips explore the cracks and lines on the books’ edges until she felt the zigging zag she was looking for, the near-velvet texture of a tome read so often that the paper on the cover had been worn to soft, threadbare nubs.

Anne.

Claire pulled the book gingerly from the shelf. She opened her eyes and took a ragged breath.

Anne of the overactive imagination. Anne, who took it as a personal insult when people spelled her name without the E.

Knowing she was too old for the book, but not really caring, Claire settled back down on the floor and opened it to the middle, confident that wherever she started, she’d know exactly where the story picked up.

An orphan girl, desperate for a family. A family, who’d hoped for a boy. Dares and dramatics and the indignity of having red hair.

Claire actually felt her body let go of the harshness of reality. Her mouth curved upward. Her throat relaxed. And as she lost herself in Anne of Green Gables, she thought for maybe the thousandth time how lovely it would be to be the kind of girl who could smash a slate over the top of a boy’s head in a fit of temper, how nice it would be to have someone misspell her name.

Clair or Clare, it wouldn’t matter—so long as they said or wrote or thought it at all.

●―●●―●―●●―●―●●―●―●●―●―●●―●―●●―●

Nix slipped in and out of the crowd, weaving his way down the street with imperceptible but deadly grace. His was the light touch of a warm breeze, the flow of a silent, colorless, odorless liquid. Water over the edge of a dam. A black adder ready to strike.

No one saw him. No one noticed. And if they had, moments later, his dark hair and light eyes, his scars and tattoos would have been forgotten. The small, arrow-shaped needle in his left hand would have disappeared from their minds, like a footprint from dry sand. The closeness of his body to his target’s, the sleight of hand that allowed him to slip the poison straight into the senator’s vein would never have registered to any passerby as more significant than an empty cup blowing haphazardly down the street.

“Eleven.” Nix whispered the word into the air, knowing that the outside world would never hear or recognize the number for what it was.

Nix’s sharp cheekbones and jet-black hair should have been striking. Nix should have been memorable. But he wasn’t. He was nothing. He was Nobody.

And he never got caught.

●―●●―●―●●―●―●●―●―●●―●―●●―●―●●―●

“Senator Evan Sykes was rushed to the hospital last night after suffering a major heart attack in his hometown of Des Moines. Doctors attempted a double bypass, but the junior senator from Iowa did not survive the procedure.”

Claire’s insides lurched as the newscaster’s baritone segued from talking about Evan Sykes’s untimely demise to his surviving family and potential successors, and then, just like that, the morning news was ending on a local interest story about a water park for dogs. Claire reached for the remote and turned off the television.

Death of a senator. Water park for dogs.

Watching the news was supposed to be Claire’s way of staying grounded in reality, but she could feel the rest of the world slipping farther and farther away. If a senator ranked on par with dogs on slip ’n’ slides, Claire didn’t even want to think where she stood. For a moment, she was tempted to call her parents again. Sooner or later, they’d pick up—the laws of probability were on her side— but Claire could sense the need to wallow circling the walls of her mind, and she wasn’t about to give it entry.

No.

She was going to have a great summer. She was going to be sweet. And sooner or later, she’d be sweet enough, independent enough, something enough that either someone else would notice, or she’d stop caring what other people thought (or, more accurately, didn’t think) at all.

Determined, Claire put on a bathing suit. She pulled a pair of board shorts on over the bottoms. And, head held high, she and a copy of The Hollow Kingdom made their way to the community pool, ready to take on the world.




 
Jennifer's Website / Goodreads / Twitter
Jennifer Lynn Barnes (who mostly goes by Jen) was born in Tulsa, Oklahoma. She has been, in turn, a competitive cheerleader, a volleyball player, a dancer, a debutante, a primate cognition researcher, a teen model, a comic book geek, and a lemur aficionado. She's been writing for as long as she can remember, finished her first full book (which she now refers to as a "practice book" and which none of you will ever see) when she was still in high school, and then wrote Golden the summer after her freshman year in college, when she was nineteen. Jen graduated high school in 2002, and from Yale University with a degree in cognitive science (the study of the brain and thought) in May of 2006. She'll be spending the 2006-2007 school year abroad, doing autism research at the University of Cambridge in the United Kingdom

More Jennifer Lynn Barnes books:
(Click on cover for Goodreads)



Bayport High’s Varsity cheer squad is made up of the hottest of the hot. But this A-list is dangerous in more ways than one. The Squad is actually a cover for the most highly trained group of underage government operatives the United States has ever assembled.
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Adopted by the Alpha of a werewolf pack after a rogue wolf brutally killed her parents right before her eyes, fifteen-year-old Bryn knows only pack life, and the rigid social hierarchy that controls it.  That doesn't mean that she's averse to breaking a rule or two. 



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Every other day, Kali D'Angelo is a normal sixteen-year-old girl. She goes to public high school. She attends pep rallies. She's human. And then every day in between . . .She's something else entirely.
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