Lucy Swing's Blog, page 6
June 6, 2012
WIN one of two FEATHERMORE e-books!
You could be the lucky winner of one FEATHERMOREe-book! Fill out the form below to enter.
**GIVEAWAY CLOSES: SUNDAY JUNE 10TH, 2012 AT 12PM EST**
<p><p><p><p><p><p><p>iframe></body></p></p></p></p></p></p></p>
**GIVEAWAY CLOSES: SUNDAY JUNE 10TH, 2012 AT 12PM EST**
<p><p><p><p><p><p><p>iframe></body></p></p></p></p></p></p></p>
June 5, 2012
FEATHERMORE Review by Jen at DREAM READS
**I wanted to thank Jennifer for such an amazing and thorough review. It certainly made my day and gave me that needed push to get Fallenmore started again. THANK YOU!! I loooove it**
* * * *
REVIEW
As ironic as it might sound, it is often
rare to find a YA Paranormal romance with a lot of mystery to it nowadays. It
often happens that the paranormal elements in the story take a back seat to the
romance in a lot of the current Young Adult novels that are out right now. But,
guess what, my fellow readers? That does not happen here. And it was refreshing.
Lucy Swing manages to create quite a heart-wrenching story in Feathermore that
is packed with suspense, intrigue, and mystery from start to finish. This book
is just shrouded in mystery and there is more to every single character than
meets the eye, not just the protagonist, which was really
interesting.
Which leads
me to the characterization of this novel. I just loved it. Jade, our female lead
in this novel, has a great voice. She is a regular high school student - well,
so she thinks - who likes to hang out with her friends and family. She may not
be the most popular person in her town or school but she has quite a lovely
personality because she is nice but not a pushover and she is incredibly funny
and sarcastic. And as the story develops her reactions to things were
refreshing. She has quite the sense of humor and instead of accepting the
changes that are happening to her immediately, she freaks out and is resistant.
Her feelings about things just felt authentic because how can a person take it
lightly that their real background is supernatural and that they are not really
human as they thought, right? That is enough to make any person even lose their
mind. I also liked that Claire and Nate who are Jade's best friends, are also an
integral part of the story, with their own hidden history and character
struggles. It was great that the family and friends of Jade were really
important to her life, it gave the story a realistic touch and it helped add
dimensionality to Jade's life story.
Another aspect of Feathermore that I really liked
was the world-building. It was intricate and complex and dark. Definitely dark
and mysterious. And what I liked about it is that the author didn't quite reveal
from the start what the true identities of the characters were and what was
going on. The reader gets to learn along with Jade what she truly is, what is
after her, who her friends really were and it was interesting. The title does
give a hint but the lore behind it was surprising from what I've read in other
angel centered books. It was unique. Speaking of complex angel lore, I loved
that the villain in this book was not your typical stoic/machiavellic power
thirsty villain with a little too much time on his hands. No. In Feathermore we
have a lady villain and boy is she ruthless and vengeful and her identity was
quite surprising. She is a prominent figure in angel lore/myth and I liked the
twist the author gave to her story.
When it comes to the romance in Feathermore. I
would have to say that it was sweet. As you're reading, it feels as if this book
is gonna have your typical case of instantaneous love at first sight. And all
you can think is, "well, okay, the guy is cute and nice and has charm but why
does the protagonist like him so much if they've just met" BUT as the story
develops, the reader soon learns that that is not the case. There is actually
quite an immense reason for Jade's attraction to Avan which is the male lead in
this story. And that reason was quite layered and unique. There also was another
character in this book named Blake that I felt had an interesting connection to
Jade, though, for those who hate love triangles, no worries. It never quite
reaches that status in this book. The main love story is Jade and Avan.
Although, maybe in book two there is potential for a love triangle with Blake in
the mix? It's hard to tell since Blake's true identity was left as a mystery
even until the end of the book, which, in my opinion, was quite cruel because
his scenes in this book were the most fascinating. Who is Blake? - I was dying
to know but I'm hoping book two will clear that up.
My advice: Read this book. It had an
amazing cliffhanger. Did I say amazing? I shall repeat myself. It was good. The
writing in this novel is very fluid. Lucy Swing definitely has a way with words.
It was easy to get lost in her writing. Feathermore was dark but fun - due to
Jade's amazing sense of humor as a character and it really felt like a
paranormal book. It was full of mystery. It almost felt like an episode of the
show Supernatural where everything starts off happy and blissful and then it all
descends into madness, basically. I really liked this book.
Favorite quote in this book: "Once
again, the vampire idea came to me. But it couldn't be. We definitely didn't
drink blood, and we were perfectly fine in the bright sunshine - we didn't
sparkle or go up in flames" - pg. 140 &141
* * * *
REVIEW
As ironic as it might sound, it is often
rare to find a YA Paranormal romance with a lot of mystery to it nowadays. It
often happens that the paranormal elements in the story take a back seat to the
romance in a lot of the current Young Adult novels that are out right now. But,
guess what, my fellow readers? That does not happen here. And it was refreshing.
Lucy Swing manages to create quite a heart-wrenching story in Feathermore that
is packed with suspense, intrigue, and mystery from start to finish. This book
is just shrouded in mystery and there is more to every single character than
meets the eye, not just the protagonist, which was really
interesting.
Which leads
me to the characterization of this novel. I just loved it. Jade, our female lead
in this novel, has a great voice. She is a regular high school student - well,
so she thinks - who likes to hang out with her friends and family. She may not
be the most popular person in her town or school but she has quite a lovely
personality because she is nice but not a pushover and she is incredibly funny
and sarcastic. And as the story develops her reactions to things were
refreshing. She has quite the sense of humor and instead of accepting the
changes that are happening to her immediately, she freaks out and is resistant.
Her feelings about things just felt authentic because how can a person take it
lightly that their real background is supernatural and that they are not really
human as they thought, right? That is enough to make any person even lose their
mind. I also liked that Claire and Nate who are Jade's best friends, are also an
integral part of the story, with their own hidden history and character
struggles. It was great that the family and friends of Jade were really
important to her life, it gave the story a realistic touch and it helped add
dimensionality to Jade's life story.
Another aspect of Feathermore that I really liked
was the world-building. It was intricate and complex and dark. Definitely dark
and mysterious. And what I liked about it is that the author didn't quite reveal
from the start what the true identities of the characters were and what was
going on. The reader gets to learn along with Jade what she truly is, what is
after her, who her friends really were and it was interesting. The title does
give a hint but the lore behind it was surprising from what I've read in other
angel centered books. It was unique. Speaking of complex angel lore, I loved
that the villain in this book was not your typical stoic/machiavellic power
thirsty villain with a little too much time on his hands. No. In Feathermore we
have a lady villain and boy is she ruthless and vengeful and her identity was
quite surprising. She is a prominent figure in angel lore/myth and I liked the
twist the author gave to her story.
When it comes to the romance in Feathermore. I
would have to say that it was sweet. As you're reading, it feels as if this book
is gonna have your typical case of instantaneous love at first sight. And all
you can think is, "well, okay, the guy is cute and nice and has charm but why
does the protagonist like him so much if they've just met" BUT as the story
develops, the reader soon learns that that is not the case. There is actually
quite an immense reason for Jade's attraction to Avan which is the male lead in
this story. And that reason was quite layered and unique. There also was another
character in this book named Blake that I felt had an interesting connection to
Jade, though, for those who hate love triangles, no worries. It never quite
reaches that status in this book. The main love story is Jade and Avan.
Although, maybe in book two there is potential for a love triangle with Blake in
the mix? It's hard to tell since Blake's true identity was left as a mystery
even until the end of the book, which, in my opinion, was quite cruel because
his scenes in this book were the most fascinating. Who is Blake? - I was dying
to know but I'm hoping book two will clear that up.
My advice: Read this book. It had an
amazing cliffhanger. Did I say amazing? I shall repeat myself. It was good. The
writing in this novel is very fluid. Lucy Swing definitely has a way with words.
It was easy to get lost in her writing. Feathermore was dark but fun - due to
Jade's amazing sense of humor as a character and it really felt like a
paranormal book. It was full of mystery. It almost felt like an episode of the
show Supernatural where everything starts off happy and blissful and then it all
descends into madness, basically. I really liked this book.
Favorite quote in this book: "Once
again, the vampire idea came to me. But it couldn't be. We definitely didn't
drink blood, and we were perfectly fine in the bright sunshine - we didn't
sparkle or go up in flames" - pg. 140 &141
June 3, 2012
FEATHERMORE - Prologue and first 3 chapters
**Quick Note: Blogger is being a bit of a pain in the butt and changing fonts, sizes, spacing, etc. So I apologize if it all looks weird. Hope you guys enjoy the Prologue and first 3 chapters of FEATHERMORE.**
Prologue
I knew what was happening,
even though I could not understand why. I was falling; that much was
unmistakable. The air rushed around me, buffeting me.
What would I do once I
arrived? Would I even remember this past existence? I closed my eyes and
resigned myself to the feeling of peace that the wind beneath me always brought.
Soon it would all be over.
I finally reached the
ground. A shiver of energy ran across my skin and back as each cell began its
transformation. I was being born. I opened my eyes and glanced around at the strange,
colorful world. The trees stood tall, casting shadows like great carpets
unrolled from their bases. The sky above me was like a dome closed over a music
box. I had never seen anything more beautiful . . . had I? I shook my head to
clear the haze.
I tried to balance myself on
a fallen tree trunk. I wasn’t used to walking on these feet. I looked down,
wiggling my toes, and let go of the tree and took a few steps forward. My body
felt heavy, and then darkness fell over me.
1
“Jade! I swear, if you don’t
get up now . . .” Mom closed the bedroom door, trusting the threat of the
unsaid to throw me into motion.
I groaned and kicked off the
warm covers.
“I’m up!” I called back to
her.
I sat up on my bed and
dangled my feet over the edge. It was the first day of senior year, and I was
dreading it.
I moved over to the closet,
where I chided myself for being too lazy to pick an outfit last night. I grabbed
a pair of denim shorts and my old AC/DC long-sleeved T-shirt and made my way to
the bathroom. I was almost done with my morning routine when I heard the door
creak.
“Jade? Are you almost
ready?” My best friend’s high-pitched singsong voice called from behind the
door. “Are you decent?”
“Yeah, come in. I’m almost
done.” I leaned closer to the mirror and applied the black eye-liner to my
lower lid. Claire sat on the edge of the bathtub and played with the hem of her
skirt.
“Ready for another fun-filled
year of schoolwork?” She met my gaze in the mirror, and I rolled my eyes.
“It’s going to be torture,”
I said, putting my makeup bag back in the drawer. “But at least it’s our last
year.” I picked up the messenger bag from the floor next to my bed. I shouldn’t
be in a rush to get out of Hollow Falls, but somehow I needed to. Hollow Falls
is home to 5,385 people, and, as the song goes, “where everybody knows your
name.” I felt suffocated in such a small town. I had dreams, things I wanted to
do that I couldn’t see myself doing here.
Claire followed me
downstairs. Mom was in the kitchen, busy packing my lunch. On the table were
two plates of pancakes, eggs, and bacon.
Claire was as big a presence
in this house as I. We seemed to be attached at the hip, and she practically
lived here—mostly because of Trent. He was another foster kid in the Langleys’
house, and a total creep.
“Mom, I’m not really that
hungry,” I said.
“You’re going to need all
the energy you can get, just to stay awake after last night.”
Claire’s eyebrows scrunched
in puzzlement.
“Oh, Mom, it was just a
nightmare.” Not precisely the truth, but as close as I was willing to let
things get. It wouldn’t go well if I told them what really happened—what had been
happening all summer long.
Claire and I sat down at the
table, and I was surprised at how hungry I actually was. After I had stuffed
myself, I pushed around what was left on my plate. Deep in thought, I felt my
eyelids get heavy, and that quickly I was lost in the darkness behind them.
“Ki-sikil-lil-la-ke,” came the whisper that only I could
hear. As the word rolled softly out, a flash of red burst in the darkness. I
gasped and open my eyes in shock.
“Are you okay?” Claire’s
voice was distant, as if muffled by an invisible water bubble around me. It was
the cool touch of her hand on mine that brought me back to reality. She was
staring at me.
I wanted to tell her
everything. All about the eerie yet wonderful dreams of a gorgeous dark-haired
stranger who kept me awake night after night, haunting my sleep. And about the
nightmares of being chased by the dark figure with fire instead of hair. But
how could I? I gave a low, soft sigh and went over to the kitchen sink, dropping
my plate in it and giving Mom a kiss.
“Ready?” I asked Claire,
ruffling her perfectly styled blond bob in passing. I giggled and ran to the
door to keep a safe distance from any retaliation. “’Bye, Mom,” I yelled, running
outside and down the driveway, where I waited until Claire caught up.
“I am so going to get you
later,” she said as she pulled out her compact mirror and fixed a few loose
strands of hair.
“There, there. All perfect
now,” I said as we began walking. I felt a little twinge of jealousy. She was perfect. Between her golden hair
that seemed to shine like ripe wheat, and her perfect almond-shaped gray eyes,
I sometimes I had a hard time being next to her.
Brushwood High was only a
few blocks from my house, and the weather was nice, so we walked. The sky was
bare of clouds, and the temperature was perfect. The streets were quiet. Only
the soft eep, eep of a chickadee,
staking out his turf in the rhododendron bushes, broke the silence. I closed my
eyes and took a deep breath, absorbing the last bouquet of summer smells:
honeysuckle and chamomile and horsemint and new-mown grass. Once winter came
and the cold started seeping into our bones, we would be forced to take
Claire’s yellow Beetle to stay warm.
Brushwood was different from
any other school I knew. It was privately owned, and mostly only well-off
parents could afford the tuition. I had often wondered why my parents worked
longer hours just so I could go there. An even bigger mystery was how Claire’s
foster parents managed it.
* * *
The school was ancient. Its
gray limestone walls made it seem cold, but the inside was anything but. The
building had once been a mansion, and the owners kept it that way, though with
a few add-ons, such as the cafeteria and a brand-new west wing. The rooms were big,
considering that they had to accommodate only about twenty students each.
We were walking along the
narrow hallway, deep in conversation, when someone banged into me, knocking the
few books I was carrying to the floor. I looked back, even though I knew who
would be standing there: Amy Crayhill, all-American mean girl. She grinned at
her minion, Savannah, and mouthed a fake Oops!
my way. Typical.
And when I turned back around,
there he was! Tall, muscular—and holding out my books. Hello, Muscles! My
eyes worked their way up to his face. As if that body weren’t enough, his face
almost made me melt. No way. Gorgeous!
Claire was staring at him,
her mouth slightly open. It seemed she agreed with my assessment.
“Here you go,” he said, handing
me my books.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t
even make my mouth utter a simple thank-you. I just stood there gaping like an
idiot.
Claire exhaled loudly and
took the books from him. “Thanks,” she groaned as she pulled me toward our
lockers. “What’s gotten into you?”
I glanced back and was
surprised to find him still in the same spot, looking at me. My lips pulled at
the edges, and I managed to smile back at him.
“You know him?” I asked
Claire, failing in my feeble attempt at nonchalance.
“No,” she said. Then she
brightened. “Oh, look, there’s Nate!” She let go of my arm and handed me my
books before hurrying away.
I shamelessly stole another
look down the hallway, but he was gone. There was a weird buzzing energy inside
me. Excitement, maybe? No one ever moved into
our nowhere little berg; it was usually the other way around.
As usual, Nate was leaning
against our lockers, his nose in a car magazine. He lifted his eyes from the
page just as Claire launched herself at him. She threw her arms around his neck
and kissed him. One week apart, and they acted as if they hadn’t seen each
other all summer.
“Gross.” I glanced around, scouting
to make sure no teachers were looking. When they finally came up for air I said,
“I don’t know how you do it, Nate. She spent the whole week whining about you
being gone.” I slid my books into the locker and arranged them neatly by
height. “Oh, I wonder what he’s doing now,” I said, mimicking her. “Oh, I hope
he’s safe.” I rolled my eyes.
“You’re just jealous,” she
said, sticking her tongue out.
I laughed, mostly because of
the mouselike way her nose wrinkled up.
First period, the class I
paid the least attention in, was world history. The first day of the year was
always rough, and today would have been no exception, but the exciting prospect
of seeing him again kept me awake,
alert, and alive, ready to listen to Mr. Morris’s every droning word about
pre-Roman Europe.
Nate, Claire, and I had been
inseparable since the beginning of high school. In fact, those two were already
glued together well before I even met them.
People often made fun that I was the eternal third wheel on their bicycle built
for two.
I found my way to the last
row and took the seat closest to the window so I could enjoy the view of the
clear blue water in the bay. Wishing it were still summer, I gazed out at the
boats on the water.
“Can’t we sit closer to the
front?” Claire hissed. “We look like hermits back here.”
“Be my guest,” I said. “I
like it back here.” It was true. Being able to see everyone gave me some sense
of control—no sneak attacks could come from behind. Maybe being tormented by
Amy all these years was starting to leave a scar after all. Claire sighed
loudly and sat down at the desk in front of me, pouting. Nate took the seat beside
her.
As I busied myself pulling
out my notebook from my backpack, I caught a glimpse of Claire and Nate. Their
mouths had dropped in unison, and their eyes were locked on something in the
hall, seen through the glass of our now closed classroom door. There was
nothing but a blank wall outside.
“Are you guys okay?” I
asked.
They closed their mouths and
nodded, trying to make it seem as though all was well. But their expressions
remained strange. They were always the very picture of calm, peace, and tranquility,
but right now their eyes showed a mixture of surprise and anxiety. Almost
crackling with tension, they looked at each other but didn’t say a word.
“Seriously guys,” I said, “what
the hell?”
The abrupt opening of the
classroom door captured everyone’s attention. I jumped in my seat, banging my
knees against my desk, half expecting to see a blood-crazed zombie come
lurching in. But it was only Mr. Morris, fumbling through an apologetic explanation
instead of enjoying his prerogative to be late.
The clamor subsided as
Morris began the usual introductions and explanations, with the usual little
chirps and flutters from the class interrupting his routine speech. A minute or
two into this, the door swung open again, and he walked in, with his backpack slung over one shoulder.
I looked down at my notebook
and tried to hide the smile that crept over my face. From the corner of my eye,
I saw Nate and Claire staring at me, but I was too excited to pay them much attention.
The latecomer handing in his tardy slip was far more interesting.
“Oh, so the new kid is late
on his very first day,” Mr. Morris joked as he placed the slip on top of some
scattered papers on his desk. He looked over his roster. “Don’t worry, you get
the standard punishment: staying awake for the rest of class.”
A few alert kids, including me,
chuckled, but we all stopped when he spoke again: “All right, everyone,” he
continued while the new kid stood next to him, looking a little self-conscious.
“Our newcomer’s name is Avan Thomas. Someone, please let him sit down without
making him feel awkward.” Avan took a step forward.
I gave him a quick overall glance
again, and then my eyes ran back to his face, where, to my surprise and
discomfort, they met his. I turned away, pretending to be casual, pretending that
his being here didn’t faze me in the least, but I still felt strangely
embarrassed. I was relieved when he put those eyes to work scanning for an
empty desk—which happened to be the one beside mine.
Before sitting down, he insolently
saluted everyone who had been staring. I giggled under my breath as Mr. Morris
went on with his droning.
After searching his bag, Avan
reluctantly turned my way. I stiffened. He was about to tap my shoulder when
Claire grabbed my arm so hard, she almost pulled me out of my seat.
Way
to go, Claire—make me look clumsy! I thought. Though I
have to admit, if there was a wall in front of me, it was a good bet I would
walk straight into it.
“What!” I hissed in an exasperated
tone.
“Pay attention to class,” she said,
giving my arm a final squeeze.
I looked at Avan and gave him an
apologetic smile. I waited for him to continue with what he was going to say,
but instead he looked at Nick Frost, who was sitting on his other side, and
leaned over. Nick dug into his backpack and pulled out a pen, which he handed nervously
to Avan. No one ever talked to Nick. He had transferred from Hollow Falls
public school in sophomore year and had instantly been treated like a leper. I
guess the curly red hair, acne, and thick-framed reading glasses didn’t help
his case.
As I looked forward, trying hard to
listen to what was in store for the rest of the year, I could see some of the
girls in class turn around and bat their mascaraed eyelashes at Avan. Some were
whispering to each other, while others just “happened” to look his way. Could
they perhaps be a little more obvious? He had been in the room for all of three
minutes, and he already had half the girls drooling over him.
It was pretty clear that he would
not be another Nick Frost.
While Mr. Morris was busy scrawling
unreadable hieroglyphics on the chalkboard, Avan finally spoke to me.
“Hi.”
I turned to find him smiling at me,
his dark hair falling over his blue eyes.
“Hi.” My voice trembled. Why was he
making me so nervous?
“You’re still awake,” he said,
doing a mock stretch and messing up his hair with his hand. He had a thick
black leather bracelet on his wrist—the very one I was always eyeing at the
local Hot Topic store.
“Barely,” I said, laughing. “I’m
Jade.” By instinct, I suppose, I stuck out my hand.
“Avan,” he said, shaking.
I could never have prepared
myself for what happened next. The instant our hands touched, an explosion of
light blinded me. My hand tensed up so hard, my joints hurt. Through the dazzling
brightness, I could see the charge in his blue eyes. The image before me
changed into one of me floating in the sky, falling . . . until I reached him. I felt his hand go limp, and I
instantly let go, realizing that I was holding my breath.
I took a deep breath, and the blazing
light slowly dimmed. It took some time for my eyes to adjust, and a little bit
longer for my heart to stop trying to jump out of my chest.
After a first period that had proved to be anything
but boring, the bell rang.
“That’s quite a grip you’ve
got there, Jade,” Avan said, rubbing his hand in make-believe pain and smiling
nervously as he got up.
“Y-yeah,” I stuttered. Trying to
lighten the mood, I added, “I work out—what can I say?”
Had he felt it, too? Had he seen
the bright light? I looked nervously at Claire, who had turned to face us. Her
eyes looked ready to pop out of their sockets.
What the hell had just happened?
Any trace of that girlish
excitement was wiped away by what I can only call an instant transformation of
my being.
Avan got up and walked toward the door, melting into
the eager, boisterous throng of dismissed students. He was tall enough that I
could see him out in the hall, making a quick study of his schedule before disappearing
down the hall.
It felt as though I sat still
forever at my desk before I dared to sling my messenger bag over my head and
look at Claire. Everything now felt normal; all systems seemed to be working
fine. This heartened me. Claire looked at me and then to where Avan had
disappeared.
“You have no idea what you’ve just
done,” she murmured.
2
“What is your problem,
Claire?” I asked through clenched teeth. “Why are you being so weird?”
She looked at me, and her
features suddenly softened. She smiled and waved me off as if I were crazy.
“Look, the guy seems nice,” she said. “But I don’t think he’s your type, you
know? Talking in class and getting into trouble isn’t worth it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Seriously?”
I said. “You and I talk all the time. What’s so different now?” I could feel
that the topic was somehow upsetting me.
Claire and Nate led me out of the classroom and
onward to next period. I was a little uneasy about standing up and taking the
first few steps, not knowing if more blinding lights in my head would again reduce
me to Jell-O. The hallway was still busy with students greeting each other,
excited to catch up with friends they hadn’t seen in months. Adding to the
clamor was the clatter of lockers opening and slamming shut.
“Since when do I have a type?” I said. “It’s not
like I’ve had boyfriends or anything. I would think that file is still open for
further investigation.” Apparently, I still had all the charm of a Siamese cat.
My trademark sarcasm seemed to have come away from the experience unscathed.
“What Claire is trying to say, Jade, is that the new
kid doesn’t seem to come from the right kind of crowd for you.” Nate said. He
seemed to think it important that he go on the record as siding with his
girlfriend.
Crowd?
How would either of them have the foggiest notion what kind of “crowd” was
right for me? It seemed as if they were trying to convince themselves more than
me. Claire gave a sort of noncommittal nod, and we continued walking toward our
next class.
Suddenly, the first day back at school was proving
to be relentlessly difficult. At lunch, we went to the courtyard and sat under
my favorite oak tree. I was halfway through my sandwich when the mind-flooding
voice came through, loud as thunder, with nothing I could do to resist it. I got
only a dim understanding of what I was being told again: the same strange word
with the same sense of hearing it as a warning: “Ki-sikil-lil-la-ke.”
I squinted and shook my head. Claire and Nate looked at me in unison with
arched brows.
“Are you okay?” Nate asked.
I must have nodded, because he continued, while attempting to touch my hand,
which immediately darted away to hide in the grass behind me. “You sure don’t
look too well.”
“Yeah . . . just a
headache.” Like my hand, my mouth seemed to be working independently of me. I
set my tray to the side and put my head down on the wooden picnic table. I felt
the warmth of Claire’s hand on the back of my neck and jerked away.
“What?” she asked, putting
her hand on my shoulder. But no light blinded me this time. There was only a
sense of peace. I lay back on the grass with my head on my arm and closed my
eyes.
* * *
A small shake woke me from
the light sleep I had fallen into. Nate was gone, and Claire was looking at me with
concern.
“Are you sure everything’s okay?” she said. I
opened my mouth to tell her, but would she even believe me? Could she possibly?
I
nodded and looked at my watch. I picked up my lunch sack and books, and we
walked past the cafeteria and back toward our lit class. I hurried in and sat
down in the far left corner. By now it would not have been a stretch to
complain of a headache. It seemed that the dam holding the force of what I had
been resisting all morning just crumbled. Usually, the voice was always
fleeting, but its effects lasted quite a while and sapped me of any vigor. All
I could do was rub my temples, sigh, and wish I could be in my bed.
The fluorescent lights above
us were not helping—forcing me to squint, adding to the pressure in my
forehead. I wished darkness would wash over me. As if on cue, the light bulbs
around my seat went off with an audible clicking sound. Mr. Gatley sent one of
the girls in the front row to tell the maintenance man about it.
I reached for the small
pocket of my bag, where I kept a few Band-Aids and some ibuprofen. I threw two
of the tablets onto my tongue and washed them down with a squeeze from an apple
juice carton I grabbed from Claire’s bag. She let me off with just a scowl. I
half smiled and rested my head, which felt heavier than ever, on my left hand—yet
another symptom of my need to be always vigilant. “Better heads up than heads
rolling,” I always said. But why couldn’t I ever just let my guard down even a
little?
It was odd that after the
morning’s strange events and the last booming intrusion by the voice, [Wordy.
Don’t spend so many words getting something across. Yes, you want to keep the
word count up, but you don’t do this by being verbose. You still must get every
thought and image across in the fewest words.]I was starting to think that maybe
I should try to communicate with it. Perhaps the voice that was warning me over
and over about that unpronounceable thing might shed a little more light on
what it meant.
Yup, I was definitely going off
the deep end. Was I really contemplating a conversation with a voice in my
head? As if it weren’t bad enough being the only one hearing it! [“Incredulity”
is not the right word here. (I don’t know what you’re after.) Get that
dictionary installed, so you can check. You’ll also want Garner’s Modern American Usage (no CD-ROM on this one, I’m afraid).
I would still try when I got
home. I was usually alone until Mom came home from work at five thirty. That
would give me enough time, though Claire was most likely going to hang out
after school. It seemed that Mom had gotten a bargain: two girls for the price
of one.
The rest of the day went
smoothly and without further mishap. It looked as though luck was on my side—I found myself in three
other classes with Avan. He seemed to be taking it in stride, and actually
spoke to me again as we walked together to our last period, biology.
I opened my eyes and watched
the way Avan took notes and listened in class. He was absolutely gorgeous. He
was sitting across the room from me, but I could swear that I heard his heart
beating. Strong and steady. His eyes met mine, and his heart beat faster—or was
it mine?
Before I knew it, Claire and
I were walking home, [One doesn’t “let” the breeze do anything. It does what it
wants.]feeling the light breeze move pleasantly around us. I babbled about Avan
for a moment, but only until I realized Claire wasn’t listening to a word I was
saying. As usual when they were apart, she was already texting Nate.
Finally, in the peace and
calm of home, though my head felt quite clear, I told Claire I was going to
take a shower—the perfect excuse to have some alone time and try to evoke the
voice. I abandoned Claire, who needed no looking after while lounging happily downstairs,
her eyes glued to the TV. I couldn’t understand her fascination with those reality
shows. There was no real anything; it was all scripted, and everyone knew it.
I wanted to see if the voice
would come. I wanted to try to provoke it, wanted it to know that I heard it loud
and clear. In my room, I made sure Claire was still babbling away on the phone,
with the TV on, before I closed the door.
I lay on my bed with my
ankles crossed and my eyes closed. What now? I lay there, but the only voice
that came to me was Claire’s muffled chatter from downstairs. Come on, voice—talk.
“Hi,” I croaked out loud.
“Oh, how stupid,” I whispered to myself, embarrassed at the thought of being
heard. I cleared my throat and continued softly, looking at the closed door.
“Can you hear me?” I closed my eyes and waited for an answer, but none came. At
least the voice was keeping quiet. Should that mean anything? “If you can hear
me, I have heard your warning and I understand.” I didn’t really have a clue; I
just needed it to stop. “You don’t need to keep repeating yourself over and
over again.”
Silence.
I held my breath. Had it heard
me? Was it that easy? I opened my eyes, uncrossed my legs, rolled onto my side,
and enjoyed the first real quiet time I had had all day.
The comfort of the sheets,
and the peace of mind my little experiment gave me lulled me into a meditative
half-awake, half-asleep state. I imagined again the moment when our hands met,
and the thrilling sensation that had coursed through me, changing me. I became
aware that it felt as though I was getting used to being in a new skin. There
was an especially strange sensation wrapping around my shoulders, but I didn’t
find it unpleasant. I dreamed of limitless, beckoning skies. There was a soft
whisper. “She will soon be coming. Ki-sikil-lil-la-ke.” It was soft
and low, and so clear. The vision faded, and I opened my eyes. I had finally
understood correctly.
3
Nate came over to the house
around six. Claire blew on her freshly painted nails and carefully closed the
pink nail polish. Even though both she and Nate ate with my family almost every
night, tonight just we kids were going out for some burgers at the local diner.
Why celebrate the first day back at school? I had no idea, but I was pretty
sure that whoever came up with this tradition must have been a total nerd.
Charley’s Diner was the most
popular hangout spot for kids in our school, and to get a good table, you had
to get there early. Nate dropped us off at the front so we could grab a booth
before the crowd showed up. We sat on opposite sides and both reached for a menu.
It was an involuntary motion, I suppose, since we always ordered the same thing:
a Biggie Burger with the works—cheese, lettuce, tomato, onion, and bacon on a toasty
grilled bun. My mouth watered at the mere thought.
I watched the door open,
expecting it to be Nate, but instead it was the oh-so-popular Amy and her
cheerleading clique. After them came a couple of the guys from the football
team and, to my surprise, Avan.
Amy had always made it her mission
in life to go out of her way to make every kid at Brushwood who was not worthy
of her friendship feel miserable. Even the popular students were harassed
sometimes, and the only one truly immune to her viciousness was any attractive
boy—in this case, Avan. When Amy’s little coterie found their seats, I could
see that she was behaving exactly as expected. She patted the spot next to her,
and Avan followed. She batted her long, dark eyelashes at him as she twirled
her hair. I sank lower in my seat, raising the menu so they wouldn’t see me . .
. so he wouldn’t see me.
“What’s going on?”
Nate had walked in, but I
had been too preoccupied with hating Amy to notice. He pulled my menu to the
side.
I rolled my eyes and pulled
the menu back to my face, this time right up to my nose. “Amy’s here, and she
brought the new kid along,” I said, nodding toward their table. Nate closed his
eyes and shook his head slightly. Claire sat with a straw in her mouth. She
followed my gaze to the corner table where Amy and her crew were sitting, and
gave them a look of disapproval.
“Well, there goes another
victim.” Claire sat straighter as the waitress approached with our usual
chocolate milkshakes.
“Why are you so down on
him?” I said. Whatever she had against the guy was a bit of a mystery. Claire
and Nate never treated anyone like an outcast—they knew what that felt like.
“Jade, darling, think about
it. He is sitting with Amy, and you
know the kind of people she attracts, so . . .”
She did have a valid point
there. The only kind of people who dated Amy tended to have a pretty thin
cerebral cortex. Amy’s fake laughter echoed throughout the diner every time
Avan spoke. She tossed her hair to the side and moved closer to him.
My hands balled into fists
every time she touched him.
I wanted to enjoy the evening. I wanted not to care about her or about her being
with him. But it was proving futile. Even though my eyes kept seeking him, he
never once looked my way. I assumed he was too busy being cool. Now that he was
in with popular crowd, it seemed that nothing else mattered. We finished our
meals and sat for a while, talking about everything and nothing.[Overusing this
“idle chat,” “small talk,” etc.]
I needed to stall our departure. I didn’t just want
to get up and walk past them. Knowing Amy, she would take any chance to make a
fool of me. That would be the perfect way to kill the competition she saw in
Claire and me. I was hoping her group would leave before we did, but they just
kept talking. I got my chance to escape when Avan got up to go to the restroom.
I practically pulled Claire and Nate bodily out of their chairs, and the moment
Avan stepped out of sight we made our exit.
Amy didn’t let me down, though. She piped up when
she saw us walking past, but we moved too fast for her to finish a sentence.
After we were a few steps out the door, she came running out with Savannah and
Melissa, two of her cheerleader friends.
“Look, girls, there go the three little freaks.
Going home to make your little voodoo dolls?” She stood with her weight on one
leg, and her hand on her hip.
I usually would just let her taunt and insult me,
but seeing her with Avan had woken something in me—something that wasn’t
necessarily nice. I turned and walked right up to her face.
“What is your problem, Amy? Huh? I don’t get it. You
don’t feel good enough about yourself, so you have to put everyone else down?
Why don’t you find a better way of living your life, and leave us out of your misery.”
Her friends dropped their
jaws in disbelief. She tried to hide her shock, but it was too late. She
scowled at me a little longer and added, “Don’t even think for a second you are
invited to my party this Friday, freak.” With a flip of her hair, she strutted back
into the diner.
“Ooh-h-h-h!” I grunted the
moment the door closed behind her. I kicked the ground.[As written, the door
closed behind her and kicked the ground.] “I cannot stand her! Who does she think she is?” I wasn’t talking to anyone
in particular—just hoping that one day I would be able to understand. Claire looped
her arm through mine and pulled me forward.
Nate had parked a couple
blocks away from the diner, and as we hurried along the dark streets of
downtown, I saw something move from the corner of my eye. I peered at it. The
person or animal was crawling strangely on the sidewalk across the street. It
seemed as though someone had a bit too much to drink or had fallen.
Nate and Claire were on that
side of me, making a clear view impossible. I slowed down to get a better look.
At first it was too dark. The nearest streetlight to where the person was slouching
had been shattered—I could still see the glinting glass shards on the ground. I
couldn’t make out what the figure was doing, but as my eyes adjusted to the
darkness I could see it crawl across the sidewalk, into an alley, and (unless I
really was going insane) up onto the side of the building. I
stopped, frozen.
“What is that?” I
said, louder than necessary. My voice carried on the empty street.
Both Claire and Nate turned
and glanced across the street. At that moment, the person or animal climbed
down off the wall and began making its way over to us on all fours. It
approached with fast, jerking motions. Its head was cocked sideways, and its
face was covered in a dark, shiny liquid. It couldn’t be sweat. It looked more
like blood.
Claire searched for my hand
and pulled me forward. “Run!” she cried, and our feet pounded the gravel as we
made our way toward the car. She dipped her hand into the pocket of her jacket
and fumbled with the keys. Once, twice, she tried to unlock it, and nothing
happened.
I looked back. Nate was
falling behind. “Come on, Nate! Run!” I yelled. The thing was still coming at
us on all fours, its head cocked to one side and then the other in what looked
like painful motions. I could hear a gurgling sound in its chest as it closed
in on us.
The car lights blinked twice
as it unlocked. Claire swung the back door open and shoved me into the seat,
then got into the front passenger seat. My heart thudded like a jackhammer. My
hand hovered over the lock button, ready to slam it down the second Nate got in.[Yes,
good.]First I looked out the back window, just as Nate trotted up and
got into the car. He turned to face Claire and then me with a smile.
“The man was just lost,” he
said as he started the engine. “I guided him to where he needed to go.”
“Th-that was no man!” I
gasped. “I . . . uh, don’t know what it was, but . . . uh, but it was ugly and
creepy, and definitely not a
man!” I was still
trying to catch my breath, and yelling wasn’t helping.
“Oh, Jade, you watch way too
many scary movies,” Claire joked.
If it was a man that was
lost, then why had she taken off running with me? I saw that thing, and it was not human. I kept playing the
image in my mind, its body hairless and darkened as if it had been burned, and
the way its neck was bent. I shivered.
“Seriously, Jade, it was
nothing,” Nate said as he pressed on the gas and moved the car out onto the
street. “Your imagination just created something that wasn’t there.”
I took one more look back,
but there was nothing there—just the dark, empty street. I sank lower on my
seat and closed my eyes, trying to get the image of the creature out of my
head.
****
Download FEATHERMORE to your Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Feathermore-1-ebook/dp/B007G73HGO/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1337016126&sr=8-1
Download FEATHERMORE to your Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/feathermore-lucy-swing/1109296706?ean=2940013909274
Buy Paperback copies from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, The Book Depository, Books-a-Million and more. For personalized, signed copies, buy them here: http://www.lucyswing.com/p/feathermore-trilogy.html
Prologue
I knew what was happening,
even though I could not understand why. I was falling; that much was
unmistakable. The air rushed around me, buffeting me.
What would I do once I
arrived? Would I even remember this past existence? I closed my eyes and
resigned myself to the feeling of peace that the wind beneath me always brought.
Soon it would all be over.
I finally reached the
ground. A shiver of energy ran across my skin and back as each cell began its
transformation. I was being born. I opened my eyes and glanced around at the strange,
colorful world. The trees stood tall, casting shadows like great carpets
unrolled from their bases. The sky above me was like a dome closed over a music
box. I had never seen anything more beautiful . . . had I? I shook my head to
clear the haze.
I tried to balance myself on
a fallen tree trunk. I wasn’t used to walking on these feet. I looked down,
wiggling my toes, and let go of the tree and took a few steps forward. My body
felt heavy, and then darkness fell over me.
1
“Jade! I swear, if you don’t
get up now . . .” Mom closed the bedroom door, trusting the threat of the
unsaid to throw me into motion.
I groaned and kicked off the
warm covers.
“I’m up!” I called back to
her.
I sat up on my bed and
dangled my feet over the edge. It was the first day of senior year, and I was
dreading it.
I moved over to the closet,
where I chided myself for being too lazy to pick an outfit last night. I grabbed
a pair of denim shorts and my old AC/DC long-sleeved T-shirt and made my way to
the bathroom. I was almost done with my morning routine when I heard the door
creak.
“Jade? Are you almost
ready?” My best friend’s high-pitched singsong voice called from behind the
door. “Are you decent?”
“Yeah, come in. I’m almost
done.” I leaned closer to the mirror and applied the black eye-liner to my
lower lid. Claire sat on the edge of the bathtub and played with the hem of her
skirt.
“Ready for another fun-filled
year of schoolwork?” She met my gaze in the mirror, and I rolled my eyes.
“It’s going to be torture,”
I said, putting my makeup bag back in the drawer. “But at least it’s our last
year.” I picked up the messenger bag from the floor next to my bed. I shouldn’t
be in a rush to get out of Hollow Falls, but somehow I needed to. Hollow Falls
is home to 5,385 people, and, as the song goes, “where everybody knows your
name.” I felt suffocated in such a small town. I had dreams, things I wanted to
do that I couldn’t see myself doing here.
Claire followed me
downstairs. Mom was in the kitchen, busy packing my lunch. On the table were
two plates of pancakes, eggs, and bacon.
Claire was as big a presence
in this house as I. We seemed to be attached at the hip, and she practically
lived here—mostly because of Trent. He was another foster kid in the Langleys’
house, and a total creep.
“Mom, I’m not really that
hungry,” I said.
“You’re going to need all
the energy you can get, just to stay awake after last night.”
Claire’s eyebrows scrunched
in puzzlement.
“Oh, Mom, it was just a
nightmare.” Not precisely the truth, but as close as I was willing to let
things get. It wouldn’t go well if I told them what really happened—what had been
happening all summer long.
Claire and I sat down at the
table, and I was surprised at how hungry I actually was. After I had stuffed
myself, I pushed around what was left on my plate. Deep in thought, I felt my
eyelids get heavy, and that quickly I was lost in the darkness behind them.
“Ki-sikil-lil-la-ke,” came the whisper that only I could
hear. As the word rolled softly out, a flash of red burst in the darkness. I
gasped and open my eyes in shock.
“Are you okay?” Claire’s
voice was distant, as if muffled by an invisible water bubble around me. It was
the cool touch of her hand on mine that brought me back to reality. She was
staring at me.
I wanted to tell her
everything. All about the eerie yet wonderful dreams of a gorgeous dark-haired
stranger who kept me awake night after night, haunting my sleep. And about the
nightmares of being chased by the dark figure with fire instead of hair. But
how could I? I gave a low, soft sigh and went over to the kitchen sink, dropping
my plate in it and giving Mom a kiss.
“Ready?” I asked Claire,
ruffling her perfectly styled blond bob in passing. I giggled and ran to the
door to keep a safe distance from any retaliation. “’Bye, Mom,” I yelled, running
outside and down the driveway, where I waited until Claire caught up.
“I am so going to get you
later,” she said as she pulled out her compact mirror and fixed a few loose
strands of hair.
“There, there. All perfect
now,” I said as we began walking. I felt a little twinge of jealousy. She was perfect. Between her golden hair
that seemed to shine like ripe wheat, and her perfect almond-shaped gray eyes,
I sometimes I had a hard time being next to her.
Brushwood High was only a
few blocks from my house, and the weather was nice, so we walked. The sky was
bare of clouds, and the temperature was perfect. The streets were quiet. Only
the soft eep, eep of a chickadee,
staking out his turf in the rhododendron bushes, broke the silence. I closed my
eyes and took a deep breath, absorbing the last bouquet of summer smells:
honeysuckle and chamomile and horsemint and new-mown grass. Once winter came
and the cold started seeping into our bones, we would be forced to take
Claire’s yellow Beetle to stay warm.
Brushwood was different from
any other school I knew. It was privately owned, and mostly only well-off
parents could afford the tuition. I had often wondered why my parents worked
longer hours just so I could go there. An even bigger mystery was how Claire’s
foster parents managed it.
* * *
The school was ancient. Its
gray limestone walls made it seem cold, but the inside was anything but. The
building had once been a mansion, and the owners kept it that way, though with
a few add-ons, such as the cafeteria and a brand-new west wing. The rooms were big,
considering that they had to accommodate only about twenty students each.
We were walking along the
narrow hallway, deep in conversation, when someone banged into me, knocking the
few books I was carrying to the floor. I looked back, even though I knew who
would be standing there: Amy Crayhill, all-American mean girl. She grinned at
her minion, Savannah, and mouthed a fake Oops!
my way. Typical.
And when I turned back around,
there he was! Tall, muscular—and holding out my books. Hello, Muscles! My
eyes worked their way up to his face. As if that body weren’t enough, his face
almost made me melt. No way. Gorgeous!
Claire was staring at him,
her mouth slightly open. It seemed she agreed with my assessment.
“Here you go,” he said, handing
me my books.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t
even make my mouth utter a simple thank-you. I just stood there gaping like an
idiot.
Claire exhaled loudly and
took the books from him. “Thanks,” she groaned as she pulled me toward our
lockers. “What’s gotten into you?”
I glanced back and was
surprised to find him still in the same spot, looking at me. My lips pulled at
the edges, and I managed to smile back at him.
“You know him?” I asked
Claire, failing in my feeble attempt at nonchalance.
“No,” she said. Then she
brightened. “Oh, look, there’s Nate!” She let go of my arm and handed me my
books before hurrying away.
I shamelessly stole another
look down the hallway, but he was gone. There was a weird buzzing energy inside
me. Excitement, maybe? No one ever moved into
our nowhere little berg; it was usually the other way around.
As usual, Nate was leaning
against our lockers, his nose in a car magazine. He lifted his eyes from the
page just as Claire launched herself at him. She threw her arms around his neck
and kissed him. One week apart, and they acted as if they hadn’t seen each
other all summer.
“Gross.” I glanced around, scouting
to make sure no teachers were looking. When they finally came up for air I said,
“I don’t know how you do it, Nate. She spent the whole week whining about you
being gone.” I slid my books into the locker and arranged them neatly by
height. “Oh, I wonder what he’s doing now,” I said, mimicking her. “Oh, I hope
he’s safe.” I rolled my eyes.
“You’re just jealous,” she
said, sticking her tongue out.
I laughed, mostly because of
the mouselike way her nose wrinkled up.
First period, the class I
paid the least attention in, was world history. The first day of the year was
always rough, and today would have been no exception, but the exciting prospect
of seeing him again kept me awake,
alert, and alive, ready to listen to Mr. Morris’s every droning word about
pre-Roman Europe.
Nate, Claire, and I had been
inseparable since the beginning of high school. In fact, those two were already
glued together well before I even met them.
People often made fun that I was the eternal third wheel on their bicycle built
for two.
I found my way to the last
row and took the seat closest to the window so I could enjoy the view of the
clear blue water in the bay. Wishing it were still summer, I gazed out at the
boats on the water.
“Can’t we sit closer to the
front?” Claire hissed. “We look like hermits back here.”
“Be my guest,” I said. “I
like it back here.” It was true. Being able to see everyone gave me some sense
of control—no sneak attacks could come from behind. Maybe being tormented by
Amy all these years was starting to leave a scar after all. Claire sighed
loudly and sat down at the desk in front of me, pouting. Nate took the seat beside
her.
As I busied myself pulling
out my notebook from my backpack, I caught a glimpse of Claire and Nate. Their
mouths had dropped in unison, and their eyes were locked on something in the
hall, seen through the glass of our now closed classroom door. There was
nothing but a blank wall outside.
“Are you guys okay?” I
asked.
They closed their mouths and
nodded, trying to make it seem as though all was well. But their expressions
remained strange. They were always the very picture of calm, peace, and tranquility,
but right now their eyes showed a mixture of surprise and anxiety. Almost
crackling with tension, they looked at each other but didn’t say a word.
“Seriously guys,” I said, “what
the hell?”
The abrupt opening of the
classroom door captured everyone’s attention. I jumped in my seat, banging my
knees against my desk, half expecting to see a blood-crazed zombie come
lurching in. But it was only Mr. Morris, fumbling through an apologetic explanation
instead of enjoying his prerogative to be late.
The clamor subsided as
Morris began the usual introductions and explanations, with the usual little
chirps and flutters from the class interrupting his routine speech. A minute or
two into this, the door swung open again, and he walked in, with his backpack slung over one shoulder.
I looked down at my notebook
and tried to hide the smile that crept over my face. From the corner of my eye,
I saw Nate and Claire staring at me, but I was too excited to pay them much attention.
The latecomer handing in his tardy slip was far more interesting.
“Oh, so the new kid is late
on his very first day,” Mr. Morris joked as he placed the slip on top of some
scattered papers on his desk. He looked over his roster. “Don’t worry, you get
the standard punishment: staying awake for the rest of class.”
A few alert kids, including me,
chuckled, but we all stopped when he spoke again: “All right, everyone,” he
continued while the new kid stood next to him, looking a little self-conscious.
“Our newcomer’s name is Avan Thomas. Someone, please let him sit down without
making him feel awkward.” Avan took a step forward.
I gave him a quick overall glance
again, and then my eyes ran back to his face, where, to my surprise and
discomfort, they met his. I turned away, pretending to be casual, pretending that
his being here didn’t faze me in the least, but I still felt strangely
embarrassed. I was relieved when he put those eyes to work scanning for an
empty desk—which happened to be the one beside mine.
Before sitting down, he insolently
saluted everyone who had been staring. I giggled under my breath as Mr. Morris
went on with his droning.
After searching his bag, Avan
reluctantly turned my way. I stiffened. He was about to tap my shoulder when
Claire grabbed my arm so hard, she almost pulled me out of my seat.
Way
to go, Claire—make me look clumsy! I thought. Though I
have to admit, if there was a wall in front of me, it was a good bet I would
walk straight into it.
“What!” I hissed in an exasperated
tone.
“Pay attention to class,” she said,
giving my arm a final squeeze.
I looked at Avan and gave him an
apologetic smile. I waited for him to continue with what he was going to say,
but instead he looked at Nick Frost, who was sitting on his other side, and
leaned over. Nick dug into his backpack and pulled out a pen, which he handed nervously
to Avan. No one ever talked to Nick. He had transferred from Hollow Falls
public school in sophomore year and had instantly been treated like a leper. I
guess the curly red hair, acne, and thick-framed reading glasses didn’t help
his case.
As I looked forward, trying hard to
listen to what was in store for the rest of the year, I could see some of the
girls in class turn around and bat their mascaraed eyelashes at Avan. Some were
whispering to each other, while others just “happened” to look his way. Could
they perhaps be a little more obvious? He had been in the room for all of three
minutes, and he already had half the girls drooling over him.
It was pretty clear that he would
not be another Nick Frost.
While Mr. Morris was busy scrawling
unreadable hieroglyphics on the chalkboard, Avan finally spoke to me.
“Hi.”
I turned to find him smiling at me,
his dark hair falling over his blue eyes.
“Hi.” My voice trembled. Why was he
making me so nervous?
“You’re still awake,” he said,
doing a mock stretch and messing up his hair with his hand. He had a thick
black leather bracelet on his wrist—the very one I was always eyeing at the
local Hot Topic store.
“Barely,” I said, laughing. “I’m
Jade.” By instinct, I suppose, I stuck out my hand.
“Avan,” he said, shaking.
I could never have prepared
myself for what happened next. The instant our hands touched, an explosion of
light blinded me. My hand tensed up so hard, my joints hurt. Through the dazzling
brightness, I could see the charge in his blue eyes. The image before me
changed into one of me floating in the sky, falling . . . until I reached him. I felt his hand go limp, and I
instantly let go, realizing that I was holding my breath.
I took a deep breath, and the blazing
light slowly dimmed. It took some time for my eyes to adjust, and a little bit
longer for my heart to stop trying to jump out of my chest.
After a first period that had proved to be anything
but boring, the bell rang.
“That’s quite a grip you’ve
got there, Jade,” Avan said, rubbing his hand in make-believe pain and smiling
nervously as he got up.
“Y-yeah,” I stuttered. Trying to
lighten the mood, I added, “I work out—what can I say?”
Had he felt it, too? Had he seen
the bright light? I looked nervously at Claire, who had turned to face us. Her
eyes looked ready to pop out of their sockets.
What the hell had just happened?
Any trace of that girlish
excitement was wiped away by what I can only call an instant transformation of
my being.
Avan got up and walked toward the door, melting into
the eager, boisterous throng of dismissed students. He was tall enough that I
could see him out in the hall, making a quick study of his schedule before disappearing
down the hall.
It felt as though I sat still
forever at my desk before I dared to sling my messenger bag over my head and
look at Claire. Everything now felt normal; all systems seemed to be working
fine. This heartened me. Claire looked at me and then to where Avan had
disappeared.
“You have no idea what you’ve just
done,” she murmured.
2
“What is your problem,
Claire?” I asked through clenched teeth. “Why are you being so weird?”
She looked at me, and her
features suddenly softened. She smiled and waved me off as if I were crazy.
“Look, the guy seems nice,” she said. “But I don’t think he’s your type, you
know? Talking in class and getting into trouble isn’t worth it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Seriously?”
I said. “You and I talk all the time. What’s so different now?” I could feel
that the topic was somehow upsetting me.
Claire and Nate led me out of the classroom and
onward to next period. I was a little uneasy about standing up and taking the
first few steps, not knowing if more blinding lights in my head would again reduce
me to Jell-O. The hallway was still busy with students greeting each other,
excited to catch up with friends they hadn’t seen in months. Adding to the
clamor was the clatter of lockers opening and slamming shut.
“Since when do I have a type?” I said. “It’s not
like I’ve had boyfriends or anything. I would think that file is still open for
further investigation.” Apparently, I still had all the charm of a Siamese cat.
My trademark sarcasm seemed to have come away from the experience unscathed.
“What Claire is trying to say, Jade, is that the new
kid doesn’t seem to come from the right kind of crowd for you.” Nate said. He
seemed to think it important that he go on the record as siding with his
girlfriend.
Crowd?
How would either of them have the foggiest notion what kind of “crowd” was
right for me? It seemed as if they were trying to convince themselves more than
me. Claire gave a sort of noncommittal nod, and we continued walking toward our
next class.
Suddenly, the first day back at school was proving
to be relentlessly difficult. At lunch, we went to the courtyard and sat under
my favorite oak tree. I was halfway through my sandwich when the mind-flooding
voice came through, loud as thunder, with nothing I could do to resist it. I got
only a dim understanding of what I was being told again: the same strange word
with the same sense of hearing it as a warning: “Ki-sikil-lil-la-ke.”
I squinted and shook my head. Claire and Nate looked at me in unison with
arched brows.
“Are you okay?” Nate asked.
I must have nodded, because he continued, while attempting to touch my hand,
which immediately darted away to hide in the grass behind me. “You sure don’t
look too well.”
“Yeah . . . just a
headache.” Like my hand, my mouth seemed to be working independently of me. I
set my tray to the side and put my head down on the wooden picnic table. I felt
the warmth of Claire’s hand on the back of my neck and jerked away.
“What?” she asked, putting
her hand on my shoulder. But no light blinded me this time. There was only a
sense of peace. I lay back on the grass with my head on my arm and closed my
eyes.
* * *
A small shake woke me from
the light sleep I had fallen into. Nate was gone, and Claire was looking at me with
concern.
“Are you sure everything’s okay?” she said. I
opened my mouth to tell her, but would she even believe me? Could she possibly?
I
nodded and looked at my watch. I picked up my lunch sack and books, and we
walked past the cafeteria and back toward our lit class. I hurried in and sat
down in the far left corner. By now it would not have been a stretch to
complain of a headache. It seemed that the dam holding the force of what I had
been resisting all morning just crumbled. Usually, the voice was always
fleeting, but its effects lasted quite a while and sapped me of any vigor. All
I could do was rub my temples, sigh, and wish I could be in my bed.
The fluorescent lights above
us were not helping—forcing me to squint, adding to the pressure in my
forehead. I wished darkness would wash over me. As if on cue, the light bulbs
around my seat went off with an audible clicking sound. Mr. Gatley sent one of
the girls in the front row to tell the maintenance man about it.
I reached for the small
pocket of my bag, where I kept a few Band-Aids and some ibuprofen. I threw two
of the tablets onto my tongue and washed them down with a squeeze from an apple
juice carton I grabbed from Claire’s bag. She let me off with just a scowl. I
half smiled and rested my head, which felt heavier than ever, on my left hand—yet
another symptom of my need to be always vigilant. “Better heads up than heads
rolling,” I always said. But why couldn’t I ever just let my guard down even a
little?
It was odd that after the
morning’s strange events and the last booming intrusion by the voice, [Wordy.
Don’t spend so many words getting something across. Yes, you want to keep the
word count up, but you don’t do this by being verbose. You still must get every
thought and image across in the fewest words.]I was starting to think that maybe
I should try to communicate with it. Perhaps the voice that was warning me over
and over about that unpronounceable thing might shed a little more light on
what it meant.
Yup, I was definitely going off
the deep end. Was I really contemplating a conversation with a voice in my
head? As if it weren’t bad enough being the only one hearing it! [“Incredulity”
is not the right word here. (I don’t know what you’re after.) Get that
dictionary installed, so you can check. You’ll also want Garner’s Modern American Usage (no CD-ROM on this one, I’m afraid).
I would still try when I got
home. I was usually alone until Mom came home from work at five thirty. That
would give me enough time, though Claire was most likely going to hang out
after school. It seemed that Mom had gotten a bargain: two girls for the price
of one.
The rest of the day went
smoothly and without further mishap. It looked as though luck was on my side—I found myself in three
other classes with Avan. He seemed to be taking it in stride, and actually
spoke to me again as we walked together to our last period, biology.
I opened my eyes and watched
the way Avan took notes and listened in class. He was absolutely gorgeous. He
was sitting across the room from me, but I could swear that I heard his heart
beating. Strong and steady. His eyes met mine, and his heart beat faster—or was
it mine?
Before I knew it, Claire and
I were walking home, [One doesn’t “let” the breeze do anything. It does what it
wants.]feeling the light breeze move pleasantly around us. I babbled about Avan
for a moment, but only until I realized Claire wasn’t listening to a word I was
saying. As usual when they were apart, she was already texting Nate.
Finally, in the peace and
calm of home, though my head felt quite clear, I told Claire I was going to
take a shower—the perfect excuse to have some alone time and try to evoke the
voice. I abandoned Claire, who needed no looking after while lounging happily downstairs,
her eyes glued to the TV. I couldn’t understand her fascination with those reality
shows. There was no real anything; it was all scripted, and everyone knew it.
I wanted to see if the voice
would come. I wanted to try to provoke it, wanted it to know that I heard it loud
and clear. In my room, I made sure Claire was still babbling away on the phone,
with the TV on, before I closed the door.
I lay on my bed with my
ankles crossed and my eyes closed. What now? I lay there, but the only voice
that came to me was Claire’s muffled chatter from downstairs. Come on, voice—talk.
“Hi,” I croaked out loud.
“Oh, how stupid,” I whispered to myself, embarrassed at the thought of being
heard. I cleared my throat and continued softly, looking at the closed door.
“Can you hear me?” I closed my eyes and waited for an answer, but none came. At
least the voice was keeping quiet. Should that mean anything? “If you can hear
me, I have heard your warning and I understand.” I didn’t really have a clue; I
just needed it to stop. “You don’t need to keep repeating yourself over and
over again.”
Silence.
I held my breath. Had it heard
me? Was it that easy? I opened my eyes, uncrossed my legs, rolled onto my side,
and enjoyed the first real quiet time I had had all day.
The comfort of the sheets,
and the peace of mind my little experiment gave me lulled me into a meditative
half-awake, half-asleep state. I imagined again the moment when our hands met,
and the thrilling sensation that had coursed through me, changing me. I became
aware that it felt as though I was getting used to being in a new skin. There
was an especially strange sensation wrapping around my shoulders, but I didn’t
find it unpleasant. I dreamed of limitless, beckoning skies. There was a soft
whisper. “She will soon be coming. Ki-sikil-lil-la-ke.” It was soft
and low, and so clear. The vision faded, and I opened my eyes. I had finally
understood correctly.
3
Nate came over to the house
around six. Claire blew on her freshly painted nails and carefully closed the
pink nail polish. Even though both she and Nate ate with my family almost every
night, tonight just we kids were going out for some burgers at the local diner.
Why celebrate the first day back at school? I had no idea, but I was pretty
sure that whoever came up with this tradition must have been a total nerd.
Charley’s Diner was the most
popular hangout spot for kids in our school, and to get a good table, you had
to get there early. Nate dropped us off at the front so we could grab a booth
before the crowd showed up. We sat on opposite sides and both reached for a menu.
It was an involuntary motion, I suppose, since we always ordered the same thing:
a Biggie Burger with the works—cheese, lettuce, tomato, onion, and bacon on a toasty
grilled bun. My mouth watered at the mere thought.
I watched the door open,
expecting it to be Nate, but instead it was the oh-so-popular Amy and her
cheerleading clique. After them came a couple of the guys from the football
team and, to my surprise, Avan.
Amy had always made it her mission
in life to go out of her way to make every kid at Brushwood who was not worthy
of her friendship feel miserable. Even the popular students were harassed
sometimes, and the only one truly immune to her viciousness was any attractive
boy—in this case, Avan. When Amy’s little coterie found their seats, I could
see that she was behaving exactly as expected. She patted the spot next to her,
and Avan followed. She batted her long, dark eyelashes at him as she twirled
her hair. I sank lower in my seat, raising the menu so they wouldn’t see me . .
. so he wouldn’t see me.
“What’s going on?”
Nate had walked in, but I
had been too preoccupied with hating Amy to notice. He pulled my menu to the
side.
I rolled my eyes and pulled
the menu back to my face, this time right up to my nose. “Amy’s here, and she
brought the new kid along,” I said, nodding toward their table. Nate closed his
eyes and shook his head slightly. Claire sat with a straw in her mouth. She
followed my gaze to the corner table where Amy and her crew were sitting, and
gave them a look of disapproval.
“Well, there goes another
victim.” Claire sat straighter as the waitress approached with our usual
chocolate milkshakes.
“Why are you so down on
him?” I said. Whatever she had against the guy was a bit of a mystery. Claire
and Nate never treated anyone like an outcast—they knew what that felt like.
“Jade, darling, think about
it. He is sitting with Amy, and you
know the kind of people she attracts, so . . .”
She did have a valid point
there. The only kind of people who dated Amy tended to have a pretty thin
cerebral cortex. Amy’s fake laughter echoed throughout the diner every time
Avan spoke. She tossed her hair to the side and moved closer to him.
My hands balled into fists
every time she touched him.
I wanted to enjoy the evening. I wanted not to care about her or about her being
with him. But it was proving futile. Even though my eyes kept seeking him, he
never once looked my way. I assumed he was too busy being cool. Now that he was
in with popular crowd, it seemed that nothing else mattered. We finished our
meals and sat for a while, talking about everything and nothing.[Overusing this
“idle chat,” “small talk,” etc.]
I needed to stall our departure. I didn’t just want
to get up and walk past them. Knowing Amy, she would take any chance to make a
fool of me. That would be the perfect way to kill the competition she saw in
Claire and me. I was hoping her group would leave before we did, but they just
kept talking. I got my chance to escape when Avan got up to go to the restroom.
I practically pulled Claire and Nate bodily out of their chairs, and the moment
Avan stepped out of sight we made our exit.
Amy didn’t let me down, though. She piped up when
she saw us walking past, but we moved too fast for her to finish a sentence.
After we were a few steps out the door, she came running out with Savannah and
Melissa, two of her cheerleader friends.
“Look, girls, there go the three little freaks.
Going home to make your little voodoo dolls?” She stood with her weight on one
leg, and her hand on her hip.
I usually would just let her taunt and insult me,
but seeing her with Avan had woken something in me—something that wasn’t
necessarily nice. I turned and walked right up to her face.
“What is your problem, Amy? Huh? I don’t get it. You
don’t feel good enough about yourself, so you have to put everyone else down?
Why don’t you find a better way of living your life, and leave us out of your misery.”
Her friends dropped their
jaws in disbelief. She tried to hide her shock, but it was too late. She
scowled at me a little longer and added, “Don’t even think for a second you are
invited to my party this Friday, freak.” With a flip of her hair, she strutted back
into the diner.
“Ooh-h-h-h!” I grunted the
moment the door closed behind her. I kicked the ground.[As written, the door
closed behind her and kicked the ground.] “I cannot stand her! Who does she think she is?” I wasn’t talking to anyone
in particular—just hoping that one day I would be able to understand. Claire looped
her arm through mine and pulled me forward.
Nate had parked a couple
blocks away from the diner, and as we hurried along the dark streets of
downtown, I saw something move from the corner of my eye. I peered at it. The
person or animal was crawling strangely on the sidewalk across the street. It
seemed as though someone had a bit too much to drink or had fallen.
Nate and Claire were on that
side of me, making a clear view impossible. I slowed down to get a better look.
At first it was too dark. The nearest streetlight to where the person was slouching
had been shattered—I could still see the glinting glass shards on the ground. I
couldn’t make out what the figure was doing, but as my eyes adjusted to the
darkness I could see it crawl across the sidewalk, into an alley, and (unless I
really was going insane) up onto the side of the building. I
stopped, frozen.
“What is that?” I
said, louder than necessary. My voice carried on the empty street.
Both Claire and Nate turned
and glanced across the street. At that moment, the person or animal climbed
down off the wall and began making its way over to us on all fours. It
approached with fast, jerking motions. Its head was cocked sideways, and its
face was covered in a dark, shiny liquid. It couldn’t be sweat. It looked more
like blood.
Claire searched for my hand
and pulled me forward. “Run!” she cried, and our feet pounded the gravel as we
made our way toward the car. She dipped her hand into the pocket of her jacket
and fumbled with the keys. Once, twice, she tried to unlock it, and nothing
happened.
I looked back. Nate was
falling behind. “Come on, Nate! Run!” I yelled. The thing was still coming at
us on all fours, its head cocked to one side and then the other in what looked
like painful motions. I could hear a gurgling sound in its chest as it closed
in on us.
The car lights blinked twice
as it unlocked. Claire swung the back door open and shoved me into the seat,
then got into the front passenger seat. My heart thudded like a jackhammer. My
hand hovered over the lock button, ready to slam it down the second Nate got in.[Yes,
good.]
got into the car. He turned to face Claire and then me with a smile.
“The man was just lost,” he
said as he started the engine. “I guided him to where he needed to go.”
“Th-that was no man!” I
gasped. “I . . . uh, don’t know what it was, but . . . uh, but it was ugly and
creepy, and definitely not a
man!” I was still
trying to catch my breath, and yelling wasn’t helping.
“Oh, Jade, you watch way too
many scary movies,” Claire joked.
If it was a man that was
lost, then why had she taken off running with me? I saw that thing, and it was not human. I kept playing the
image in my mind, its body hairless and darkened as if it had been burned, and
the way its neck was bent. I shivered.
“Seriously, Jade, it was
nothing,” Nate said as he pressed on the gas and moved the car out onto the
street. “Your imagination just created something that wasn’t there.”
I took one more look back,
but there was nothing there—just the dark, empty street. I sank lower on my
seat and closed my eyes, trying to get the image of the creature out of my
head.
****
Download FEATHERMORE to your Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Feathermore-1-ebook/dp/B007G73HGO/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1337016126&sr=8-1
Download FEATHERMORE to your Nook: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/feathermore-lucy-swing/1109296706?ean=2940013909274
Buy Paperback copies from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, The Book Depository, Books-a-Million and more. For personalized, signed copies, buy them here: http://www.lucyswing.com/p/feathermore-trilogy.html
June 2, 2012
Writers Make the Best Friends -Guest Post by Author Nikki Jefford
Today I am happy to bring to you our host for the day, Author Nikki Jefford. Nikki is currently in the midst of her amazing Spellbound Trilogy blog tour for her novels, Entangled and Duplicity. Without further ado, Nikki, the floor is all yours.
Writer Friends Make the Best Friends
One of the most rewarding things about writing is meeting other writers.
What I love about author friendships is there isn’t another person on the planet who can understand the agony, distress, joys and triumphs of producing a creative work close to your heart.
Authors have a pay it forward mentality, at least the ones I roll with, and look out for their own. No one else is going to be able to sympathize as much when sales suck, you lose part of your document or entire novel (Lucy!), your book gets bashed, and pirated by harpies too cheap to spend 99 cents on an ebook.
And sorry to break it to you, but as soon as you join the Author Club at least three of these things will happen. Slow sales. Check. Book bashed. Check. Pirated. Check, check.
Then there’s the other deflator… no one in your life gives a @#$% that you wrote a book.
Okay, I’m being dramatic. I’m a writer. So sue me. Actually, don’t sue me. I’m broke. I said writer!
But you will find that people you’ve known forever, and therefor know that publishing a book has been your lifelong dream, will barely acknowledge this achievement. And if you go indie, heaven help you because that just doesn’t count.
I don’t want to sound unappreciative because I have family and friends whose support goes above and beyond anything I could’ve asked.
But it is interesting to see what kind of turnout you receive when push comes to shove. I know exactly who bought my book when it was first released. I kept a list. I’m neurotic. So sue me, but don’t. (See above.)
Writer friends were the first people to purchase my novel, including Lucy, even though I sent her a coupon code for a free copy. (Touched!) Since I was new to the YA genre, I came onto the scene with no connections, contacts, or YA writing friends. I wasn’t even familiar with twitter until six months ago. I began wiggling my way in by visiting YA author blogs, which led to a group project and meeting five fab authors including Lucy Swing and Kira Saito (who I’m pretty sure was The First Person to buy Entangled. I stop at her blog today, too.)
What disappointed me most was that a couple of my oldest and closest friends were less than enthused and they more than anyone know my purpose in life is to write.
What surprised (and delighted) me the most was that after my Facebook announcement, that Entangled was on Amazon and Barnes and Noble, several popular girls from my high school (Dimond High class of ’96) left messages on my wall that they’d purchased the book.
I was floored!
The popular girls at my high school (in Anchorage, Alaska) were actually super nice. (It was the nerds who were snots!) One of the girls who bought my book also stopped by a “party” I threw senior year and was nice enough to say, “It’s still really early, people don’t come till later” before heading out for another commitment. No one else ever showed, but I’ll never forget how cool she was about it.
Maybe the real title of this post is Kindhearted People Make the Best Friends because their generosity sticks with us through the decades.
Thank you to author friend Lucy Swing for hosting me today, making the beautiful Spellbound blog tour banner, and rounding up new followers and sales via twitter when Entangled entered The Dead Zone at the beginning of last month.
Enter to win the SPELLBOUND SWAG PACK (International)
· Evil Eye Amulet and Bracelet: In Duplicity, Gray wears an evil eye pendant, also known as a nazar, to protect herself from a spell that’s causing havoc over the witches and warlocks in her coven. The evil eye (a Turkish amulet) is used for both luck and protection against envy.
· Two Headed Quarter: Two Grays are better than none and two heads are better than one, especially when flipping over who gets to choose which movie to watch with a trick coin. Adrian returns in Duplicity and opens a magic shop.
· Entangled bookmark
Ends June 8, 2012.
<p><p>Loading...</p></p>
Don’t miss the Cover Reveal of book three, Enchantment, at designer Najla Qamber’s review site: Unputdownable Books on June 7th.
http://unputdownablebookies.blogspot.com/
Extras:
Entangled book trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZZnDgYFCVVw
Duplicity book trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cCwY_Mj_Syk
Buy links:
Entangled amazon buy link: http://www.amazon.com/Entangled-Spellbound-1-ebook/dp/B007BCORJK/ref=zg_bs_3017_15
(Entangled is available for ebook at amazon. It will return to Barnes & Noble and Smashwords once KDP select ends July 15, 2012.)
Duplicity amazon buy link: http://www.amazon.com/Duplicity-Spellbound-2-ebook/dp/B0084V0L7E/ref=sr_1_12?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1337562757&sr=1-12
Duplicity Barnes and Noble buy link: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/duplicity-nikki-jefford/1110951776?ean=2940014446969
About:
Nikki Jefford is a third generation Alaskan who found paradise in the not-so-tropical San Juan Islands where she is, once more, neighbors with Canada. She has a B.A. in journalism from the University of Alaska Anchorage and was a reporter before returning to her first love: fiction.
After a whirlwind romance in France, Nikki married Sébastien in March 2000. They reside with Cosmo the wonder Westie.
Find her at:
http://nikkijefford.com
http://twitter.com/NikkiJefford
May 12, 2012
Lost
Hi Guys,
For thoseof you waiting on the sequel to Feathermore, Fallenmore, I have bad news... I have lost all of my content in my laptop and with it, Fallenmore is no more.
I finally got a new laptop today and i will begin writing ASAP. Nontheless, I will not be publishing it in June. I will not be ready by then.
So sorry for the inconvenience, trust me, I am going CRAZY!
XOXO
For thoseof you waiting on the sequel to Feathermore, Fallenmore, I have bad news... I have lost all of my content in my laptop and with it, Fallenmore is no more.
I finally got a new laptop today and i will begin writing ASAP. Nontheless, I will not be publishing it in June. I will not be ready by then.
So sorry for the inconvenience, trust me, I am going CRAZY!
XOXO
May 9, 2012
Wordsmith Wednesday #3
This amazing new meme is brought to us by the wonderfully talented, Hope Collier.
The objective:
Show us a scene from your current project. It can be creepy, adventurous, romantic, etc. Just a snippet to let readers see what they're in for!
The guidelines:
* Must be from a current work-in-progress (WIP). Nothing already published.
* You may choose from any section of the manuscript, but be mindful not to include spoilers.
* Keep it clean and YA audience friendly, please. No erotica.
* Stay under 300 words or about one page. It can be as little as a few lines if you prefer. We just want to give readers a chance to see everyone's selection.
* Link back to Chirenjenzie so we can enjoy others' work as well!
* Include the guidelines in your post.
WIP: Fallenmore (Feathermore Trilogy, #2)
PUBLICATION DATE: June 2012
This time instead of an excerpt I will be unveiling Fallenmore's blurb. What do you all think?
"After Jade's world was torn apart, she is unsure of where she belongs, if anywhere at all. Deceived by those she trusted the most, she must now accept her fate and the life that lays before her.
The voices are back but this time, they are trying to lure her into the darkness. But could they be telling her the truth? That the only person she has been able to trust since the death of her boyfriend, Avan, is lying to her too? If the voices are right... Could she really trust him?
In Fallenmore, the second book in the Feathermore Trilogy, Jade will embark in a quest through the pits of Hell. The question now is, will they ever let her out?"
May 3, 2012
Easter Blog Hop Winners
Hi Guys!
So many of you entered the Easter Blog Hop, you are all amazing! I gave away 10 copies of Bloody Valentine and 10 copies of Feathermore. Below are the winners! I will be emailing the ebooks this afternoon.
BLOODY VALENTINE WINNERS:
Breanne Weaver
Ginnie Hutto
Autumn Nauling
Amanda Collins
Karen Anderson
Afrae Ahouzi
Essence Coleman
Gale Adkins Nelson
Ann-Marie Wilson
Carrieann Mirassol
FEATHERMORE WINNERS:
Johann Appleton
Julie Miller
Kaylene Green
Linda Foster
Lisa Markson
Monica Gutierrez
Natalie Cleary
Rachel Marks
Sian Lewis
Yamna M Mir
So many of you entered the Easter Blog Hop, you are all amazing! I gave away 10 copies of Bloody Valentine and 10 copies of Feathermore. Below are the winners! I will be emailing the ebooks this afternoon.
BLOODY VALENTINE WINNERS:
Breanne Weaver
Ginnie Hutto
Autumn Nauling
Amanda Collins
Karen Anderson
Afrae Ahouzi
Essence Coleman
Gale Adkins Nelson
Ann-Marie Wilson
Carrieann Mirassol
FEATHERMORE WINNERS:
Johann Appleton
Julie Miller
Kaylene Green
Linda Foster
Lisa Markson
Monica Gutierrez
Natalie Cleary
Rachel Marks
Sian Lewis
Yamna M Mir
My Book Boyfriend #4 - Loki Staad
Let's be honest, we all fall for the MC, whether its a female or a male. I, in particular, fall in love with them all!
Thank you Missie at The Unread Reader for coming up with this, it is sooo much fun!
My Book Boyfriend this week is: Loki Staad from the Trylle Trilogy by Amanda Hocking.
We meet Loki in book two, Torn.
My Loki is played by Australian actor Dan Feuerriegel. You can currently find him playing the role of Agron in the HBO hit series Spartacus.
HOT!
Loki Stats:
EYES: Carmel
HAIR: Shaggy and very light, almost blond.
BUILD: Muscular
"The corner of one side of his mouth curled up a bit, and he leaned in closer to me. For a moment I was afraid he might kiss me, and as my heart hammered in my chest, i realized that i was more afraid that he wouldn't."
"His eyes were still locked on mine, but I pulled my gaze away, searching his face. His tanned skin was smooth and flawless, his jaw strong and yet somehow delicate. Loki was quite stunning in his own right, and I think I'd been trying to ignore that since I met him."
" "I'm not going to do that to you," he said quietly. "What I told you before is still true, I want to know that when you're with me, it's because you want to be, not because you have to be."
"Loki-" I started to protest.
He put his hands on my face, and thy felt warm on my skin, even though they should've been cold from scaling the wall. He leaned in to me, but he paused before his lips touched mine. His eyes met mine, searching them for any resistance, but I didn't have any.
His mouth covered min, and warmth stirred inside me. He tasted sweet and cool, and his skin melled of fresh rain. My knees felt weak, and my heart battered against my chest. His hands moved back, tangling in my hair and pressing me to him.
I wrapped my arms around him, and he felt strong and powerful against me. I could actually feel his muscles, like warm marble, and I knew he could crush me if he wanted to. But the way he touched me ws passionate and delicate at once." "
Ever since the moment we were introduced to Loki, and how he helped Wendy escape, I knew there was something about him I adored. Don't get me wrong, I friggin' LOVE Finn... but Loki... there's something special about him; he is wild, passionate and would stop at nothing for what he wants.
Every time I imagined Loki, I saw Dan and I truly believe this is the PERFECT MATCH!
Now, I haven't read the final book in the Trylle Trilogy, Ascend, but I am staring it tonight. Hopefully there is a whole lot more Loki for me to swoon over.
April 26, 2012
My Book Boyfriend #3 - Alden Thomas
Let's be honest,
we all fall for the MC , whether its a female or a male. I, in particular, fall
in love with them all!
Thank you Missie at The Unread
Reader for
coming up with this, it is sooo much fun!
My boyfriend today is the ever so amazing Protector 436, Alden Thomas, from Mary Lindsey's SHATTERED SOULS.
Lenzi's Description:
"He was tall and thin, with longish hair. [...] I couldn't tell what color his eyes were, but Alden had lng, light brown, maybe blond hair; it was hard to tell in the moonlight. H had angular feayures. If it weren't for the fact he was crazy, creepy ghost boy, I'd have to admit he was totally hot."
"The sun streaming through my open blinds lit the gold highlights in Alden's hair. This was the first time I'd seen himin the light. His eyes were pale gray, almost slver, Beautiful and unearthly. He was the most attractive boy i'd ever met, and he looked way too comfortable lying in my bed."
There is nothing like an incredibly hot looking guy that ONLY exists to protect YOU. His whole demeanor and easy going attitude reels you right in and you can't help but love him the second he appears. Even if Lenzi calls him Ghost boy. He is honorable and respectful, characteristics every man should possess.
*swoons*
April 25, 2012
Wordsmith Wednesday #2
This amazing new meme is brought to us by the wonderfully talented, Hope Collier.
The objective:
Show
us a scene from your current project. It can be creepy, adventurous, romantic,
etc. Just a snippet to let readers see what they're in for!
The
guidelines:
* Must be from a current
work-in-progress (WIP). Nothing already published.
* You may choose from any
section of the manuscript, but be mindful not to include
spoilers.
*
Keep it clean and YA audience friendly, please. No erotica.
* Stay under 300 words or
about one page. It can be as little as a few lines if you prefer. We just want
to give readers a chance to see everyone's selection.
* Link back to Chirenjenzie so we can enjoy others' work as
well!
*
Include the guidelines in your post.
WIP: Fallenmore
(Feathermore Trilogy, #2)
PUBLICATION DATE:
June 2012
I picked out my outfit from the closet and slammed the bathroom
door behind me. Morning showers had become somewhat of a necessity; it was the one time
I allowed myself to be weak. The warm water that cascaded down my body seemed
to melt away the walls that kept the tears hidden deep inside of me. Every cell
in my body burned with rage. I curled into a ball in the bathtub floor and cried; for the
love I had lost, for the loss of lives I had facilitated and that I carried
over my shoulders. I would, one day, claim the retribution that was rightfully mine.
What do you guys think?
