She's alive! She's alive! She's....okay, well, she's mostly dead throughout most of the book, but my JO releases TODAY! As in, you can order my brand-new, modern-day retelling of the classic Frankenstein-style story RIGHT NOW!
So my only question is....WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?
Oh. Links. Right. I can help with that.
I'll update this post as I figure out all the other links today (it can take a while to appear in some of the other ebook distribution spots), but those are the three main ones for now!
If you've been waiting to find out why JO is almost dead, today's the day! Go check it out! There's a sample available at all three vendors, so you can see what you're getting yourself into. If you read the sample, I hope you love it enough to buy it. If you buy it, I hope you remember to leave a review, because reviews are the nicest things you can do for any author.
And for now, I'll leave you with this - one of my favorite excerpts from JO!
“It’s okay, Luce. It’s just the girls.” I looked around me, and even in the darkness I could see their unsteady shapes, rising from their tables. My eyes were adjusting rapidly to the lack of light, and I found if I squinted, I could see pretty well. “Girls, it’s okay. Lucy, it’s okay. Everyone, we’re going to be okay.” I remembered how scared I’d been when I’d awoken. “I’m here. I’m Jo. I’m just like you, and I can help you.”
From around me came the rustling and banging of stiff, uncoordinated bodies sitting up and sliding off tables. There were crashes as some rolled and fell to the floor. Just like I had. And still I stood, motionless, speaking, watching. “I’m here to help. You’re going to be fine.” I spoke with a confidence I didn’t know I possessed.
I felt a hand on my arm. A girl stood beside me, unsteady and unsure. She was one of the blondes, and even in the pallor of her partial death, even in the darkness, she was beautiful. Her skin was supple, where mine was taut and gray. She reached with her other hand and held my arm in both of hers.
“Lucy,” I whispered. “Luce, come over here.”
“I can’t,” she whispered loudly. “I think I’m stuck. I can’t see you. Where are you?” She’d moved further down the wall, toward a corner, clearly not feeling the kinship that I felt with the girls. There were five of them between us.
I covered the hands on my arm with my own, and squeezed. “I know you’re scared,” I said to the girl attached to the hands. “But I’m here. It’s okay.”
Around us, the girls stumbled as they walked. They seemed to be targeting Lucy and me, which made sense. They were scared. They needed comfort. Then one let out a moan, and I smiled, remembering my own experiences in re-learning speech.
“It’s okay,” I said to her. “Go ahead and moan if you need to. You’ll figure out how to make words again in a minute. Keep practicing.”
Around me, other girls took up the moaning. The sounds were guttural, primitive, and I wondered: Did I sound that bad?
“Jo?” Lucy’s voice cut through the moans, though it was meek, shaking. She was terrified.
“Calm down, Lucy. We’re going to help these girls, aren’t we?” I squeezed the hands on my arm again, patting them as comfortingly as I could.
The hands on my arm began to squeeze. The blonde girl attached to them began to moan, quietly at first, and then louder, her voice blending with those already filling the room. She squeezed harder.
With horror, but without pain, I felt the fingers penetrate the flesh on my arm, reaching through until they hit bone. I felt the brittle bone break.
“Stop,” I said. “Don’t do that!” I tried to pry her hands from my arm. I couldn’t. The girl moaned again.
It sounded different, though, than I remembered my own voice sounding when I first tried to speak. These moans were more animal, less human. Feral. Vicious.
And suddenly, I was terrified.