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Showing posts with label Teen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Teen. Show all posts

Monday, February 4, 2019

Flightless Bird ~ a #Teen #Paranormal #Romance by Kellie McAllen



Flightless Bird
 Teen Paranormal Romance
(The Caged Series Book 1)
by
Kellie McAllen



They're powerless without her; she's powerless to resist.

The list of reasons why Lexus Wren is the last girl any guy would be interested in is mercilessly long:
Her dad’s in prison for murder, her mom drowns her sorrows every night at Dave’s Dive, and Lexus is just trying to survive the cruelties of high school as a painfully shy bookworm with a bad wardrobe and a collection of nervous habits. She never expected to draw the eyes of two hunky transfer students, Phoenix and Griffin Easton.

But the troubled brothers are haunted by their own demons and don’t seem bothered by Lexus’ reputation. They’re too busy trying to figure out why touching her makes them feel like electricity is frying their insides and why they're compelled to obey her every command.

You’d think having two hot guys vying for her would improve her reputation, but the troubles at home and school only get worse. When Lexus’ safety is threatened in an explosive confrontation, will they finally discover the truth about their powerful connection?

If you like young adult paranormal romance books like The Academy series, The Veil Diaries, The Lost Savior, and Under Different Stars by authors such as CL Stone, BL Brunnemer, Amy Bartol, Michelle Madow, or JL Weil, you'll love Flightless Bird!

This is a slow burn, YA, reverse harem, paranormal romance series appropriate for ages 13+.


FREE BOOK OFFER - details inside


Scroll up and grab your copy now to start your next obsession!

$2.99 on Kindle or FREE on KU



About Kellie McAllen
Kellie McAllen is a USA Today bestselling author who has her nose in a book whenever she can. When she's not reading or writing, she also likes to guest judge on DWTS (from her living room), watch cat videos, and eat too much pizza and chocolate.
Visit her at www.kelliemcallen.com for a free book offer.


Monday, February 15, 2016

New #Teen #SciFi Release from @lwreyes and @EvernightTeen #Suspense #YA #Romance



Mira wants to die. She’s attempted suicide twice already and failed. Every time she comes in contact with another person, skin to skin, that person’s psyche uploads into hers. While her psychologist considers this a gift, for Mira it’s a curse from which she cannot escape.
To make matters worse, Mira’s father is being investigated for the deaths of several volunteer test subjects of the miracle drug Gaudium. Shortly after Mira’s mother starts asking questions, she ends up in a coma. Although her father claims it was an accident, thanks to her “condition” Mira knows the truth, but proving it just might get her killed.
Evernight Teen - http://www.evernightteen.com/contact-by-laurisa-white-reyes/    RRP: $5.99   Your Price: $4.49 (You save $1.50)
14+ due to adult situations
Excerpt: 
I’m alive?
Yes. Still alive…
Again.
A tube runs from an IV bag into my arm, the plastic needle burrowing under my skin like a tick. Thank God I was unconscious when they put that in. I cringe at the thought of being deluged with so many psyches at once—paramedics, nurses, doctors, all of them touching me.
Where are my clothes? They must have taken them off when I was out. This flimsy gown can’t protect me. I want to tear off the tape securing the IV tube to my skin, rip it off like a Band-Aid. I want out of here, but then I see Mama sleeping beside me, her body sloped in a plastic chair. I shouldn’t have done this to her again. But I had to try.
A plastic clamp pinches my finger, connecting me to a heart monitor. Three inches further up, my wrist is wrapped in gauze. Two months ago I would never have had the courage to do this—or any reason to. But now, feeling the staples beneath the bandage, I wonder how deep someone has to cut in order to die?
The curtain jerks back, the metal rings dragging across the ceiling rail. Mama snaps to attention. I half expect her to stand and salute.
“Miranda Ortiz?” says a woman in a beige linen suit and crisp white blouse. She is thin, stiff, and colorless. She reeks of gardenias.
“I’m Dr. Walsh from Mental Health,” she continues. The plastic laminated nametag hanging from her neck confirms this.
Dr. Walsh extends her hand, but instead of taking it, I grasp the edge of my sheet and pull it up to my chin. Other than this stupid hospital gown, it’s the only barrier I’ve got right now.
Mama stands up and reaches over the bed to shake the doctor’s hand. “I’m Mira’s mother, Ana,” she says wearily. She starts to sit back down, but Dr. Walsh interrupts.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Mrs. Ortiz. However, I’d like to speak to your daughter alone, if that’s all right.”
Dr. Walsh is insistent, in a polite sort of way. Mama leans toward me, and for a split second I think she’s going to kiss me goodbye. Though deep down I almost wish she would, instead she offers me her gentle smile and tucks the sheet under my shoulder.
“Please don’t go,” I whisper.
“It’ll only be a few minutes,” she says. “I’ll be just outside, all right?”
Mama brushes a strand of hair from my eyes with her manicured fingernails, careful to avoid contact with my skin. She smiles at me, but her eyes are wistful. As she walks out, my insides tighten up, and I suddenly realize how much I’ve missed her touch. My instinct is to cling to her like when I was small, but instead I press my arms stiffly to my sides like a corpse.
A security guard opens the door and accompanies Mama out into the hall. Dr. Walsh takes Mama’s empty chair, crosses one leg over the other, and lays a clipboard on her knee. “So,” she begins, “you cut yourself last night. Is that right?”
Her voice is casual and smooth, as if she’s just asked me what I ate for dinner. She waits for me to respond. When I don’t, she glances down at her clipboard. “I understand it’s not your first attempt. You were here a couple of weeks ago, I see. Overdose, but no permanent damage done.”
She glances up at me, pausing in case I have something to say.
I don’t.
Laurisa White Reyes is the author of The Celestine Chronicles and The Crystal Keeper series. She has a Masters degree in English and is the Editor-in-Chief of Middle Shelf Magazine. Visit her website at: www.laurisawhitereyes.com







2/12 Young Adult & Teen Reads

2/13 Get Cozy

2/14 The Book Pub 

2/15 Seeing Stars

2/15 Fantasy Pages

2/16 All Book Finds

2/17 Nics Book Nook

2/18 Nikki Noffsinger 
   

Sunday, January 17, 2016

New #Teen #PNR Release from @MarcusDamanda and @EvernightTeen #Urban #Fantasy

“This is what the truth is. Second Salvations murdered my parents, and I’m running away.”  A single post over unregulated Internet channels. A sleeping society awakens to a chase, broadcast live on television screens all across the New United States of America...  Rebecca and Daniel have never met. A fifteen-year-old preacher’s kid and a sixteen-year-old atheist outcast, they appear to have little in common. And yet they have both attracted the attention of a recruiter for Angel Island, where bad kids go to be remade—or destroyed.  Agents of the all-powerful New America Unity Church will stop at nothing to get them. They’re building an army, a modern children’s crusade, in which Rebecca and Daniel may be just the kind of future leaders they need.  If not, they might be just the kind of sacrifice necessary to keep the rest of the faithless in line.
Rebecca had known Miss Marcy was there the whole time. She was careful not to betray that knowledge by looking at her, though, even as she hit the bottom of the stairs and ran straight in her direction. She had anticipated a host of enemies lying in wait for her, in fact, and counted herself lucky when she could only make out one. The bright white shirt and the camera-flash light of the videophone identified her easily.
The devil you know, she thought, steeling herself, telling herself it could only be worse, going the other way. God only knew how many people waited to spring on her around back. She didn’t think the cop could be there, not so quickly, but there was no way to be certain.
She kept running, full tilt, as though making for the woods. But she was ready all the while, and when Miss Marcy came for her—thinking to roll her in one quick sucker-tackle, no doubt—Rebecca lowered her head, let out a cry, and drove herself right into Miss Marcy’s stomach.
They went to the ground together, but Miss Marcy had already lost. Nary a sound—other than sucking breath—escaped her lips as Rebecca pinned her arms with her knees and punched her in the face. Once, twice, three times…
Then, scooting back over her middle as Miss Marcy’s hands flew up to protect her face, Rebecca punched her twice more, this time in the sternum—straight punches, not uppercuts, leading with her two prominent knuckles, just as she’d been taught.
And finally she stood, turning a full circle, suddenly panicking again. Surely there’d be an army coming for her by now. But there wasn’t. Not yet.
Miss Marcy just lay there, curled into a ball, gasping.
She saw the videophone Miss Marcy had propped up on the windowsill. I don’t have time for this, she thought, going to it anyway.
She saw her own face in the screen as she drew near, growing bigger and bigger as she picked it up. It was taking live video of her and feeding it to Miss Marcy’s personal Omni page. The Views line at the bottom indicated there were currently six people watching.
“My name is Rebecca Riggs,” she said to the screen, and suddenly found tears were threatening again. It annoyed her because she was not a crier as a general rule. She fought them down. “This is what the truth is: Second Salvations murdered my parents, and I’m running away.”
She couldn’t know, as she tossed the phone aside and started running again, how famous those words would ultimately become. It wasn’t her name at first—nor her accusation, nor even her admission of deliberate flight—that would catch the attention of so many people. But the video, still in record mode, was already being shared by all six of the anonymous watchers on Miss Marcy’s Omniscience page.
By the time Rebecca made it to the scooter between the road and the edge of the woods, one of the watchers thought to add the caption: This Is What the Truth Is.

By sunrise, that video would go viral.


Marcus Damanda lives in Woodbridge, Virginia with his cat, Shazam. At various times throughout his life, he played bass guitar for the garage heavy metal band Mother’s Day, wrote for The Dale City Messenger, and published editorials in The Potomac News and The Freelance Star. Currently, while not plotting his next foray into fictitious suburban mayhem, he spoils his nieces and nephews and teaches middle school English.
 

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