Electric Skies Cover Reveal

Hello readers, in today’s post I’m taking part in the ELECTRIC SKIES cover reveal! This is the 5th book in The Twelth Keeper series by Belle Mallory. Isn’t the cover just gorgeous!? The release date is March 8th 2019, so there is more than enough time to pre-order.

Electric Skies
Belle Malory
(Twelfth Keeper #5)
Publication date: February 2019
Genres: Fantasy, Romance, Young Adult

The strange planet Kennedy has called home for the last year transformed her into something more powerful than she ever imagined.

But it’s not home.

It’s not Earth.

And most importantly, it doesn’t have Phoenix.

Faced with life-altering decisions, Kennedy is forced to abandon everything she’s built for an uncertain future. The journey won’t be easy, but she’s survived greater odds. If it means reclaiming the life she lost, she’ll do whatever it takes. Even if it means letting go of something she never expected to want.

Add to Goodreads

Amazon

Author Bio:

I don’t consider myself a writer. I’m a storyteller. I live in Orlando, FL with my family. Keep up with me on social media. I love hearing from readers!

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Newsletter


I hope you like the cover and entered the giveaway! I love that I could participate in revealing the ELECTRIC SKIES cover, it’s fun to be part of the hype!

Happy reading,

Felicia

Advertisements

VALIANT Book Blitz & Giveaway

Hello readers, in today’s post I’m taking part in the VALIANT Book Blitz! If you are looking for the next alien invasion novel, make sure to add Valiant by Merrie Destefano to your shelf. Not only is the cover spectacular, but the synopsis sounds action-packed!


Valiant
Merrie Destefano
Published by: Entangled: Teen
Publication date: December 4th 2018
Genres: Science Fiction, Young Adult

The Valiant was supposed to save us. Instead, it triggered the end of the world.

Earth is in shambles. Everyone, even the poorest among us, invested in the Valiant’s space mining mission in the hopes we’d be saved from ourselves. But the second the ship leaves Earth’s atmosphere, our fate is sealed. The alien invasion begins. They pour into cities around the world through time portals, possessing humans, forcing us to kill one another.

And for whatever reason, my brother is their number one target.

Now the fate of the world lies in the hands of me, a seventeen-year-old girl, but with the help of my best friend, Justin―who’s suddenly starting to feel like more―maybe if we save my brother, we can save us all…

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Entangled

EXCERPT:

There’s a pain in my chest as I remember the first time I stumbled across a man with fists lined with metal spikes. I was walking through downtown Santa Ana with Justin, and it was one of those times when I thought, He’s totally going to kiss me tonight. It was back before I began traveling through time, before I found out just how dark the world could be. We were laughing and heading toward a frozen yogurt shop, and he slid his arm around my waist.

It might have been the first time I thought, This guy is it; he’s the one I could fall for. I knew he was a Genetic and that nobody wanted us to be together. But I didn’t care. He was sunshine on a dark night. He was heat when the cold winds blew.

I put my head on his shoulder.

It was only natural.

It was exactly right.

Then I saw the metal man, his brow furrowed as if his heart held all the anger in the world. He was chaos and destruction and he was walking toward us, eyes like fire, like he wanted to kill us both.

Maybe he was looking at Justin. Metal men hate Genetics, because in a real battle, Genetics win. It doesn’t matter how much metal you’ve grafted onto your skin or bones—it might make you stronger, but you’re slower, too. Nobody can match the speed and natural strength of a Genetic. So, this guy might have been looking at Justin and challenging him, but it felt like I was going to be collateral damage.

One swing of his spike-covered fist and I’d be dead.

But I didn’t have to worry about it for long, because Justin pushed me behind him. I couldn’t see his face, but I could see the metal man. Doubt flickered in his eyes; he paused and glanced to the side. He was probably looking for a way out.

Justin took a step forward, his hands curled in fists. When he spoke, his voice came out like thunder, a loud, low growl that rumbled through my spine.

“Don’t even think about it,” Justin said. “Take one more step and I’ll rip out your metal implants, one by one. They hurt going in, so you better believe it’ll be a mother when I pull them out.”

He paused to laugh, but I’d never heard him laugh like that before. It was chilling, like he was a different person. He continued to warn the metal man. “Especially when I twist those implants sideways and the roots tear off chunks of your flesh.”

The metal man narrowed his eyes, and there was a split second when I thought he was going to tackle Justin.

Maybe he would have.

But he didn’t get a chance. It was like Justin knew the metal man’s plan, like it was an open football playbook. Justin rushed him, grabbed the guy around the waist, and slammed him against the brick wall of a local tattoo parlor. It took the wind out of the metal man’s lungs, and he was temporarily stunned. Justin could have slugged him; he could have broken the guy’s arms; he could have killed him.

All he did was lean close enough to whisper in the guy’s ear.

Then Justin stepped back and let the thug slide to the sidewalk in a heap. The metal man caught his breath, his eyes flickered, and he glanced up at us. Then he floundered to his hands and knees and crawled away as fast as he could. By the time he got to his feet, we were surrounded by a Friday-night club crowd, most of them drunk and all of them laughing at the metal man as he ran away.

Justin didn’t even hit the guy.

Sometimes you can win by intimidation alone.

So, do I melt every time I see this boy, who was willing to fight to protect me?

You better believe it.

 

Author Bio:

Born in the Midwest, former magazine editor Merrie Destefano currently lives in Southern California with her husband, two German shepherds, a Siamese cat, and the occasional wandering possum. Her favorite hobbies are reading speculative fiction and watching old Star Trek episodes, and her incurable addiction is writing. She loves to camp in the mountains, walk on the beach, watch old movies, and listen to alternative music—although rarely all at the same time.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

! ! ! GIVEAWAY ! ! !

a Rafflecopter giveaway

________

I hope you liked the post and entered the giveaway (it’s a big one)! I love that I could participate in this blog tour and look forward to taking part in more.

Happy reading,

Felicia

 

Echo Academy COVER REVEAL

Hello readers, in today’s post I’m taking part in the ECHO ACADEMY cover reveal! This new series by Christina Bauer is perfect for fans of urban fantasy, cool science, evil corporations, forbidden romance and apparently hot new classmates who may or may not be aliens… The first book, Alien Minds, releases on April 23rd 2019 and the sequel, Echo Academy, releases on April 28th 2020. Which means there is still more than enough time to pre-order, enter the giveaway and add both books on Goodreads!


ECHO Academy
(Dimension Drift, #2)
Published by: Ink Monster LLC
Publication date: April 28th 2020
Genres: Dystopian, Fantasy, Young Adult

The second book in the new series from USA Today’s ‘must read YA paranormal romance’ author, Christina Bauer

Our heroine Meimi Archer has been assigned to attend ECHO Academy. There, the evil Headmaster believes that Meimi will help the government conquer other dimensions.

But Meimi has some very different ideas. She’s starting a revolution.

That is, if the Headmaster doesn’t find out and murder her first.

This new series is perfect for: fans of urban fantasy, action & adventure, cool science, evil corporations, forbidden romance and hot new classmates who may or may not be aliens.

Goodreads / Amazon / Kobo / Google Play

 

Author Bio:

Christina Bauer knows how to tell stories about kick-ass women. In her best selling Angelbound series, the heroine is a part-demon girl who loves to fight in Purgatory’s Arena and falls in love with a part-angel prince. This young adult best seller has driven more than 500,000 ebook downloads and 9,000 reviews on Goodreads and retailers. The first three books in the series are now available as audiobooks on Audible and iTunes.

Bauer has also told the story of the Women’s March on Washington by leading PR efforts for the Massachusetts Chapter. Her pre-event press release—the only one sent out on a major wire service—resulted in more than 19,000 global impressions and redistribution by over 350 different media entities including the Associated Press.

Christina graduated from Syracuse University’s Newhouse School with BA’s in English along with Television, Radio, and Film Production. She lives in Newton, MA with her husband, son, and semi-insane golden retriever, Ruby.

Stalk Christina On Social Media – She Loves It!

Website / Facebook / Twitter / Blog / Instagram / LinkedIn

 

! ! ! GIVEAWAY ! ! !

a Rafflecopter giveaway

___________

I hope you like the cover and entered the giveaway! I love that I could participate in revealing the Echo Academy cover, it’s fun to be part of the hype!

Happy reading,

Felicia

 

3 Books I Still Want to Read in 2018

The year is coming to an end fast. There are only a couple of weeks left to make a dent in my 2018 TBR-pile. I know I won’t get to all of them, so here are the top three books I plan on reading!

________

uprooted

Uprooted by Naomi Novik

I’ve heard so many great things about this book (which has made me a bit nervous to start reading). Fantasy books are becoming my most-loved genre and I’m hoping to place this book onto my favorite’s shelf!

acce2fc2-d812-4cef-9923-6046d87491fa-girlsofpaperandfire_9780316561365_hc

Girls of Paper & Fire by Natasha Ngan

This book came out in November 6th and I’m already halfway. So far I’m enjoying the fierce characters and exquisite descriptions. I’ll be posting a review when I’m done devouring it!

220px-Six_of_Crows_by_Leigh_Bardugo_book_cover

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

The Grisha Trilogy was one of the best fantasy series I’ve read, so I’m looking forward to diving back into the Grishaverse. Leigh has a way with storytelling that makes you feel like part of the story. If you haven’t read anything by her, I suggest starting soon!

 

_____

Hopefully I get to read more than just these three books. I want my TBR-pile for next year to be as clean as possible. It’s already tricky because they are so many good books releasing next year. I hope you all are getting some reading done!

 

Happy reading!

Felicia

THE FEVER KING by Victoria Lee #FeverKingFriday

Welcome to #FeverKingFriday !

TFK Review - Copy - Copy

This is the first in a series of posts dedicated to The Fever King by Victoria Lee. The novel releases on March 1st 2019, which gives me plenty of time to gush over this story. Posts will relate to The Fever King in one way or another. These posts will be labelled with #FeverKingFriday and #FeverwakeFriday so be on the lookout! Today’s post is my spoiler free review of The Fever King. If you want to go into the novel without knowing much beforehand, I suggest stopping after the second paragraph. If you are interested in finding out more, do read on. Let’s get started!

______

You know that feeling when you climb on a roller coaster and you are anxious, yet excited? Then the ride dips and your insides go wild, your heart races and you aren’t sure if you’ll make it to the end. It goes on like this until the ride stops, you get off, your legs wobble and the pounding of your heart cannot be contained. THE FEVER KING is that experience – but in book format.

I’ve been blessed with an ARC of The Fever King. I read it in a few weeks (it took this long because I didn’t want it to end). I’m here to tell you it is next level. The perfect blend of magic, politics and messed up characters. The magical concept is new and vibrant. It takes the form of a virus which either kills you or makes you a Witching. Even with the twist, it still carried the magical atmosphere of new possibilities.

Victoria managed to ease the reader into a political filled plot, without making them confused about what was going on. The politics were presented in a clear way which didn’t make me scratch my head and wish for it to end. It was full of intrigue and kept me hooked. I think even the most anti-political person would appreciate the political theme.

The characters glue the entire story together. Noam, Dara and Lehrer are the three main characters. Each one of them will influence you in another way (believe me). They’re arcs are so complex and gray that you like them even when you don’t.

Noam is the kind of character you connect with on an emotional level. He feels like a friend you haven’t seen in a while, one who is up to something and you’re slightly worried to find out what. He is also a friend you desperately want to help, but unfortunately you cannot, because he has a mind of his own. His actions are driven by experience and circumstances. He does not wait around for something to happen, he makes it happen. Noam is going to break your heart and stitch it together. You might be angry at him for a while, but it won’t last. Because deep down inside you know he has his reasons.

Dara will probably steal your heart. He was everything I didn’t know I loved in a character. He had various layers, each with a different part of his personality shining through. He was messy and vulnerable, yet he carried his facade around like a glass of bourbon.

Lehrer was…something else. Sophisticated, well-dressed and you never quite know his agenda. He was a well-developed character in more aspects than one. Added in between the main story were pieces of transcripts and paper clippings, giving the reader a glimpse into Lehrer’s background. It was done in such a way that I had to pause and think everything over before I could continue reading.

The ending was one which broke my heart- but in a good way. Instead of wanting to fling my Kindle across the room, I was holding it closer, savouring the last words. Everything weaved together seamlessly to create a satisfying story, from the first page to the last.

The Fever King is one of those books that stay with you long after you’ve read it. This book is important for so many different reasons. It tackles current problems the world is facing in a way which shows different perspectives. I could relate to the characters and circumstances on several occasions. And I can imagine even more people identifying with the book and feeling seen.

So if you want to read a kick-ass book, The Fever King should definitely be your next read!

(Something I don’t like is that I have to wait even longer for the sequel.)

_______

I hope you consider adding The Fever King to Goodreads and pre-ordering!

Happy reading and enjoy the weekend!

Felicia

THE FEVER KING Book Blitz & Giveaway

Hello readers, in today’s post I’m taking part in THE FEVER KING Book Blitz! I finished this book recently and it was phenomenal. Basically a roller coaster ride filled with plot twists, flawed characters (who will find a special place in your heart) and world-building which doesn’t disappoint. Many important factors and themes are weaved into the novel, making it unforgettable. The Fever King by Victoria Lee releases on March 1st 2019, which gives you enough time to enter the giveaway, add TFK on Goodreads and pre-order.


The Fever King
Victoria Lee
Published by: Skyscape
Publication date: March 1st 2019
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

In the former United States, sixteen-year-old Noam Álvaro wakes up in a hospital bed, the sole survivor of the viral magic that killed his family and made him a technopath. His ability to control technology attracts the attention of the minister of defense and thrusts him into the magical elite of the nation of Carolinia.

The son of undocumented immigrants, Noam has spent his life fighting for the rights of refugees fleeing magical outbreaks—refugees Carolinia routinely deports with vicious efficiency. Sensing a way to make change, Noam accepts the minister’s offer to teach him the science behind his magic, secretly planning to use it against the government. But then he meets the minister’s son—cruel, dangerous, and achingly beautiful—and the way forward becomes less clear.

Caught between his purpose and his heart, Noam must decide who he can trust and how far he’s willing to go in pursuit of the greater good.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

READ CHAPTER 1:

Outbreaks of magic started all kinds of ways. Maybe a tank coming in from the quarantined zone didn’t get hosed down properly. Maybe, like some people said, the refugees brought it up with them from Atlantia, the virus hiding out in someone’s blood or in a juicy peach pie.

But when magic infected the slums of west Durham, in the proud sovereign nation of Carolinia, it didn’t matter how it got there.

Everybody still died.

Noam was ringing up Mrs. Ellis’s snuff tins when he nearly toppled into the cash register.

He all but had to fight her off as she tried to force him down into a folding chair—swore he’d just got a touch dizzy, but he’d be fine, really. Go on home. She left eventually, and he went to stand in front of the window fan for a while, holding his shirt off his sweat-sticky back and trying not to pass out.

He spent the rest of his shift reading Bulgakov under the counter. He felt just fine.

That evening he locked the doors, pulled chicken wire over the windows, and took a new route to the Migrant Center. In this neighborhood, you had to if you didn’t want to get robbed. Once upon a time, or so Noam had heard, there’d been a textile mill here. The street would’ve been full of workers heading home, empty lunch pails in hand. Then the mill had gone down and apartments went up, and by the 1960s, Ninth Street had been repopulated by rich university students with their leather satchels and clove cigarettes. All that was before the city got bombed halfway to hell in the catastrophe, of course.

Noam’s ex used to call it “the Ninth Circle.” She meant it in Dante’s sense.

The catastrophe was last century, though. Now the university campus blocked the area in from the east, elegant stone walls keeping out the riffraff while Ninth and Broad crumbled under the weight of five-person refugee families crammed into one-room apartments, black markets buried in basements, laundry lines strung between windows like market lights. Sure, maybe you shouldn’t wander around the neighborhood at night draped in diamonds, but Noam liked it anyway.

“Someone’s famous,” Linda said when he reached the back offices of the Migrant Center, a sly smile curving her lips as she passed him the morning’s Herald.

Noam grinned back and looked.

Massive Cyberattack Disables Central News Bureau

Authorities link hack to Atlantian cyberterrorist affiliates.

“Haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Say, have you got any scissors?”

“What for?”

“I’m gonna frame this.”

Linda snorted and swatted him on the arm. “Get on, you. Brennan has some task he wants finished this week, and I don’t think you, him, and your ego can all fit in that office.”

Which, fair: the office was pretty small. Tucked into the back corner of the building, with Brennan’s name and Director printed on the door in copperplate, it was pretty much an unofficial storage closet for all the files and paperwork Linda couldn’t cram anywhere else. Brennan’s desk was dwarfed by boxes stacked precariously around it, the man himself leaning close to his holoreader monitor with reading glasses perched on the end of a long nose and a pen behind one ear.

“Noam,” he said, glancing up when the door opened. “You made it.”

“Sorry I missed yesterday. I had to cover someone’s shift at the computer store after I got off the clock at Larry’s.”

Brennan waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t apologize. If you have to work, you have to work.”

“Still.”

It wasn’t guilt, per se, that coiled up in Noam’s stomach. Or maybe it was. That was his father’s photograph on the wall, after all, though his face was hidden by a bandanna tied over his nose and mouth. His father’s hands holding up that sign—Refugee rights are human rights. That was in June 2118, during the revolt over the new, more stringent citizenship tests. It had been the largest protest in Carolinian history.

“Linda said you had something for me to work on?” Noam said, tilting his head toward the holoreader.

“It’s just database management, I’m afraid, nothing very interesting.”

“I love databases.” Noam smiled, and Brennan smiled back. The expression lifted the exhaustion from Brennan’s face like a curtain rising from a window, sunlight streaming through.

Brennan oriented him to the task, then gave up his desk chair for Noam to get to work. He squeezed Noam’s shoulder before he left to help Linda with dinner, and a warm beat of familiarity took root in the pit of Noam’s stomach. Brennan might try to put up boundaries, clear delineations between professional life and how close Brennan had been to Noam’s family, but the cracks were always visible.

That was pretty much the only reason Noam didn’t tell him up front: database management was mind-numbingly boring. After you figured out how to script your way past the problem, it was just a matter of waiting around. He’d have once maybe emailed Carly or someone while the program executed. But they were all dead now, and between the Migrant Center and two jobs, Noam didn’t have time to meet new people. So he sat and watched text stream down the command console, letters blurring into numbers until the screen was wavering light.

A dull ache bored into Noam’s skull.

Maybe he was more tired than he thought, because he didn’t remember what happened between hitting “Execute” and Brennan shaking him awake. Noam lurched upright.

“You all right?” Brennan asked.

“What? Oh—fine, sorry. I must have . . . dozed off.” Noam seized the holoreader, tapping at the screen until it lit up again. The script was finished, anyway, and no run-time errors. Thankfully. “It’s all done.”

The thin line between Brennan’s brows deepened. “Are you feeling okay? You look . . .”

“Fine. I’m fine. Just tired.” Noam attempted a wan smile. He really hoped he wasn’t coming down with whatever it was Elliott from the computer store had. Only, he and Elliott had kissed in the back room on their lunch break yesterday, so yeah, he probably had exactly what Elliott had.

“Maybe you should go on home,” Brennan said, using that grip on Noam’s shoulder to ease him back from the computer. “I can help Linda finish up dinner.”

“I can—”

“It wasn’t a request.”

Noam made a face, and Brennan sighed.

“For me, Noam. Please. I’ll drop by later on if I have time.”

There was no arguing with Brennan when he got all protective. So Noam just exhaled and said, “Yeah, all right. Fine.”

Brennan’s hand lingered a beat longer than usual on Noam’s shoulder, squeezing slightly, then let go. When Noam looked over, Brennan’s expression gave nothing away as he said, “Tell your dad hi for me.”

Noam had arrived at the Migrant Center in the early evening. Now it was night, the deep-blue world illuminated by pale streetlight pooling on the sidewalk. It was unusually silent. When Noam turned onto Broad, he found out why: a checkpoint was stationed up at the intersection by the railroad tracks—floodlights and vans, police, even a few government witchings in military uniform.

Right. No one without a Carolinian passport would be on the street tonight, not with Immigration on the prowl.

Noam’s papers were tucked into his back pocket, but yeah, he didn’t need to deal with Chancellor Sacha’s anti-Atlantian bullshit right now. Not with this headache. He cut through the alley between the liquor store and the barbecue joint to skirt the police perimeter. It was a longer walk home from there, but Noam didn’t mind.

He liked the way tonight smelled, like smoked ribs and gasoline. Like oncoming snow.

When he got to his building, he managed to get the door open—the front latch was ancient enough it probably counted as precatastrophe. Fucking thing always got stuck, always, and Noam had written to the super fifty times, for what little difference that’d made. It was November, but the back of Noam’s neck was sweat-damp by the time he finally shouldered his way into the building and trudged into his apartment.

Once upon a time, this building was a bookstore. It’d long since been converted to tenements, all plywood walls and hung-up sheets for doors. The books were still there, though, yellowing and mildewed. They made him sneeze, but he read a new one every day all the same, curled up in a corner and out of the way of the other tenants. It was old and worn out, but it was home.

Noam touched the mezuzah on the doorframe as he went in, a habit he hadn’t picked up till after his mother died but felt right somehow. Not that being extra Jewish would bring her back to life.

Noam’s father had been moved from the TV to the window.

“What’s up, Dad?”

No answer. That was nothing new. Noam was pretty sure his father hadn’t said three words in a row since 2120. Still, Noam draped his arms over his father’s lax shoulders and kissed his cheek.

“I hope you want pasta for dinner,” Noam said, “’cause that’s what we’ve got.”

He left his father staring out at the empty street and busied himself with the saucepans. He set up the induction plate and hunched over it, steam wafting toward his face as the water simmered. God, it was unbearably hot, but he didn’t trust himself to let go of the counter edge, not with this dizziness rippling through his mind.

Should’ve had more than an apple for lunch. Should’ve gone to bed early last night, not stayed up reading Paradise Lost for the fiftieth time.

If his mother were here, she’d have dragged him off to bed and stuck him with a mug of aguapanela. It was some sugary tea remedy she’d learned from her Colombian mother-in-law that was supposed to cure everything. Noam had never learned how to make it.

Another regret to add to the list.

He dumped dried noodles into the pot. “There’s a checkpoint at the corner of Broad and Main,” he said, not expecting an answer.

None came. Jaime Álvaro didn’t care about anything anymore, not even Atlantia.

Noam turned down the heat on the stove. “Couldn’t tell if they made any arrests. Nobody’s out, so they might start knocking on doors later.”

He turned around. His father’s expression was the same slack-jawed one he’d been wearing when Noam first came in.

“Brennan asked about you,” Noam said. Surely that deserved a blink, at least.

Nothing.

“I killed him.”

Nothing then either.

Noam spun toward the saucepan again, grabbing a fork and stabbing at the noodles, which slipped through the prongs like so many slimy worms. His gut surged up into his throat, and Noam closed his eyes, free hand gripping the edge of the nearest bookshelf.

“You could at least pretend to give a shit,” he said to the blackness on the other side of his eyelids. The pounding in his head was back. “I’m sad about Mom, too, you know.”

His next breath shuddered all the way down into his chest—painful, like inhaling frost.

His father used to sing show tunes while he did the dinner dishes. Used to check the classifieds every morning for job offers even though having no papers meant he’d never get the good ones—he still never gave up. Never ever.

And Noam . . . Noam had to remember who his father really was, even if that version of him belonged to another life, ephemeral as footprints in the snow. Even if it felt like he’d lost both parents the day his mother died.

Noam switched off the heat, spooning the noodles into two bowls. No sauce, so he drizzled canola oil on top and carried one of the bowls over to his father. Noam edged his way between the chair and the window, crouching down in that narrow space. He spun noodles around the fork. “Open up.”

Usually, the prospect of food managed to garner a reaction. Not this time.

Nausea crawled up and down Noam’s breastbone. Or maybe it was regret. “I’m sorry,” he said after a beat and tried for a self-deprecating grin. “I was . . . it’s been a long day. I was a dick. I’m sorry, Dad.”

His father didn’t speak and didn’t open his mouth.

Noam set the pasta bowl on the floor and wrapped his other hand around his father’s bony wrist. “Please,” Noam said. “Just a few bites. I know it’s not Mom’s cooking, but . . . for me. Okay?”

Noam’s mother had made the most amazing food. Noam tried to live up to her standard, but he never could. He’d given up on cooking anything edible, on keeping a kosher kitchen, on speaking Spanish. On making his father smile.

Noam rubbed his thumb against his father’s forearm.

The skin there was paper thin and far, far too hot.

“Dad?”

His father’s eyes stared past Noam, unseeing and glassy, reflecting the lamplight outside. That wasn’t what made Noam lurch back and collide with window, its latch jabbing his spine.

A drop of blood welled in the corner of his father’s eye and—after a single quivering moment—cut down his cheek like a tear.

“Mrs. Brown!”

Noam shoved the chair back from the window, half stumbling across the narrow room to the curtain separating their space from their neighbor’s. He banged a fist against the nearest bookshelf.

“Mrs. Brown, are you in there? I—I’m coming in.”

He ripped the curtain to one side. Mrs. Brown was there but not in her usual spot. She was curled on the bed instead, shoulders jutting against the ratty blanket like bony wings.

Noam hesitated. Was she . . . no. Was she dead?

She moved, then, a pale hand creeping out to wave vaguely in the air.

“Mrs. Brown, I need help,” Noam said. “It’s my dad—he’s sick. He’s . . . he’s really sick, and I think . . .”

The hand dropped back onto the blanket and went still.

No. No, no—this wasn’t right. This wasn’t happening. He should go downstairs and get another neighbor. He should—no, he should check on his dad. He couldn’t. He . . .

He had to focus.

The blanket covering Mrs. Brown began to ripple like the surface of the sea. Outside, the hazard sirens wailed.

Magic.

Dragging his eyes away from Mrs. Brown, Noam twisted round to face his own apartment and vomited all over the floor.

He stood there for a second, staring woozily at the mess while sirens shrieked in his ears. He was sick. Magic festered in his veins, ready to consume him whole.

An outbreak.

His father, when Noam managed to weave his way back to his side, had fallen unconscious. His head lolled forward, and there was a bloody patch on his lap, yellow electricity flickering over the stain. The world undulated around them both in watery waves.

“It’s okay,” Noam said, knowing his dad couldn’t hear him. He sucked in a sharp breath and hitched his father’s body out of the chair. He shouldn’t—he couldn’t just leave him there like that. Noam had carried him around for three years, but today his father weighed twice as much as before. Noam’s arms quivered. His thoughts were white noise.

It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay, a voice kept repeating in Noam’s head.

He dumped his father’s body on the bed, skinny limbs sprawling. Noam tried to nudge him into a more comfortable position, but even that took effort. But this . . . it was more than he’d done for his mother. He’d left her corpse swinging on that rope for hours before Brennan had shown up to take her down.

His father still breathed, for now.

How long did it take to die? God, Noam couldn’t remember.

On shaky legs, Noam made his way back to the chair by the window. He couldn’t manage much more. The television kept turning itself on and off again, images blazing across a field of static snow and vanishing just as quickly. Noam saw it out of the corners of his eyes even when he tried not to look, the same way he saw his father’s unconscious body. That would be Noam soon.

Magic crawled like ivy up the sides of the fire escape next door.

Noam imagined his mother waiting for him with a smile and open arms, the past three years just a blink against eternity.

His hands sparked with something silver-blue and bright. Bolts shot between his fingers and flickered up his arms. The effect would have been beautiful were it not so deadly. And yet . . .

A shiver ricocheted up his spine.

Noam held a storm in his hands, and he couldn’t feel a thing.

 

Author Bio:

Victoria Lee grew up in Durham, North Carolina, where she spent twelve ascetic years as a vegetarian before discovering that spicy chicken wings are, in fact, a delicacy. She’s been a state finalist competitive pianist, a hitchhiker, a pizza connoisseur, an EMT, an expat in China and Sweden, and a science doctoral student. She’s also a bit of a snob about fancy whiskey. Lee writes early in the morning and then spends the rest of the day trying to impress her border collie puppy and make her experiments work. She currently lives in Pennsylvania with her partner.

For exclusive updates, excerpts, and giveaways, sign up for Victoria’s newsletter at https://victorialeewrites.com/newsletter/

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Bookbub / Newsletter

 

! ! ! GIVEAWAY ! ! !

a Rafflecopter giveaway

________

I hope you liked the post and entered the giveaway! Believe me, you WANT this book! Participating in this blog tour has been a joy, especially because I love this book so much. My review of The Fever King will be posted soon, so stay tuned!

Happy reading,

Felicia

KILLER AMONG Book Blitz & Giveaway

Hello readers, in today’s post I’m taking part in the KILLER AMONG Book Blitz! If you are looking for something to keep you on the edge of your seat – look no further. Killer Among is a YA thriller and the third book in the Killer Instinct series by S.E. Green.


Killer Among
S.E. Green
(Killer Instinct, #3)
Publication date: October 19th 2018
Genres: Thriller, Young Adult

Lane swore never to be like her late mother. But now she too is a killer. One difference remains—Lane only stalks and punishes the guilty.

But while trailing a new killer of teenage girls dubbed “The Strangler”, Lane makes a terrible miscalculation and kills the wrong man.

Now the family of the man she accidentally murdered is hunting the killer, and Lane is forced to cover her tracks by befriending them. Because everyone knows you keep your enemies close.

But are they really enemies? Lane isn’t so sure.

As the plot surrounding “The Strangler” tightens around her like a noose, for the first time Lane is tempted to trust someone with her darkest secrets. But will breaking down her boundaries bring salvation, or doom?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

 

Author Bio:

S. E. Green is an award willing, bestselling author who writes dark and twisty novels like Killer Instinct, dubbed “Dexter for teens”; Ultimate Sacrifice, a satanic cult novel of suspense; and Vanquished, a gritty survival thriller. She also writes under Shannon Greenland and there you’ll find young adult novels of action, romance, and suspense.

Shannon lives in a small Florida beach town, has one very grouchy dog, and loves to travel. She’s also up for any adventure you might throw her way.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Bookbub / Newsletter

 

! ! ! GIVEAWAY ! ! !

a Rafflecopter giveaway

_______

I hope you liked the post and entered the giveaway! I love that I could participate in this blog tour and look forward to taking part in more.

Happy reading,

Felicia