In other news, you've got to help me celebrate my friend Elizabeth Loupas and her debut release of THE SECOND DUCHESS. March 1st, baby!! The cover is just beautiful, and the story is promised to be just as beautifully written. I'm stoked to attend her book release (yay for authors who live by me!).
I'm FINALLY reading Catching Fire. I'm so behind on my reading list. Loving the book, like everyone else. Plus, I'm actually finding it helpful with my own dystopian WIP, what with it being first person present tense as well. I haven't posted any excerpts in some time. Here's a little piece from said WIP, THE IN-BETWEEN.
For me, my life is pointless, directionless without mom. The idea of her being somewhere out there, waiting for me, lost, or worse . . . I have to know. The not knowing will kill me before anything else does. Even with my little sister Lyssa at home needing me as a crutch—her big brother that will always take care of her—I can’t just let life drift by without knowing the truth.
The top of Rez’s shaved head gives off the moonlight as he shakes it. “We don’t got time, Levi.” He looks at me now and my stomach clenches at the fierceness in his eyes. “Gentry’s gone.”
“What?” I can feel my face crumple in confusion. “You said he told you I’d be here.”
“Yeah, by voice note.”
My mind races trying to piece together why Gentry would leave after coming to us with all of this information. Either it’s an elaborate trick, and nothing outside Caligo really exists and he doesn’t want us to hate him, or—more than likely—someone tipped the White Coats off. What if they had him imprisoned? What would they do to him if they found out the truth, learned that he really was from out there?
Rez rubs a hand over his chin, a signal he’s probably stressed and his brain is working overtime to find a solution to our problem. “We should go back. Reconvene with the others.”
I’m shaking my head fervently, ignoring the tickle of my hair it as it brushes against my cheeks. I know I shouldn’t panic, but if it’s a matter of them taking Gentry and not the old man running off, then they’d be coming for us next. It’s the part of me that knows we really shouldn’t go back that’s causing my rapid breathing and pacing. My boots sink into the mud with each step. “Lyssa. . . “
“Shouldn’t be involved. Come on, Levi, you know this. You knew this could happen. We’ve got to go. Why do you think no one’s patrolled out here while you’ve been here? What if they’re at our houses already? Waiting?” His voice dropped lower with each word. He’s starting to panic too. He has a family, just like me. Two younger brothers and his parents to think about, but he’s willing to just leave them in the hands of the White Coats.
I stop, one foot still in the air in mid-pace. Slowly, I set it down. The waters of The Ocean That Never Ends rush up around my ankles and drench the bottom of my pants, but I don’t care. In my head, all I see are White Coats, dozens of White Coats, invading my home, terrifying Lyssa, interrogating dad. Several thoughts bombard my brain at the same time, as usual. My first thought is to run, take to sprinting through the woods toward home and get the White Coats off my property, away from Lyssa. The second thought, which overlaps the first, is to run the opposite direction, where our hide out and supplies are waiting for us, knowing that going back home won’t save Lyssa and dad, only the truth will. The third thought, which is practically a scream over the others, is to kill every single White Coat that exists.