Stacey will be awarding an eCopy of Forget Me Not to 3 randomly drawn
winners via rafflecopter during the tour.
Since her mother
vanished nine years ago, Anamae and her father have shared a quiet life. But
when Anamae discovers a brooch identical to her mother's favorite pendant, she
unknowingly invites a slew of trouble into their world.
Anamae is drawn into a
world which shatters everything she knew to be true. The first in the trilogy
of the brilliant YA Collective series. followed by REMEMBER ME and NEVER
FORGOTTEN.
The jewels she finds
are not just jewellery, they're a highly developed technology capable of
cloaking the human form. Triggering the jewellery's power attracts the
attention of a secret society determined to confiscate the device - and silence
everyone who is aware of its existence. Anamae knows too much, and now she's
Enemy Number One. She's forced to leave her father behind when she's taken in
by a group determined to keep her safe. Here, Anamae searches for answers about
this hidden world.
With her father kidnapped
and her own life on the line, Anamae must decide if saving her dad is worth
risking her new friends' lives. No matter what she does, somebody is going to
get hurt.
Read an excerpt:
I ease open the lid of the chest. Love letters, a few small
items of jewelry, and other precious odds and ends rest on top of a discolored
wedding dress, as if every last item was placed in here with care. Dust and the
smell of moth balls make my nose twitch and finally bring on the sneeze.
Blue fabric, the same color as the brooch, peeps out between
a stack of old envelopes. I slide it out of the bunch with care and peel back
the fabric, my fingers slipping on the soft, smooth silk. My breath catches at
the sight of my mother’s pendant.
My memories of it remained unchanged by time. It’s exactly
as I recall. Five blue petals come to a yellow center, creating the shape of a
forget-me-not flower. The pendant hangs on a long chain with shiny, silver looped
links.
The sight of it brings back so many memories. The only time
I ever saw my parents fight … Mom shouted so loud I covered my ears, and Dad
responded in a low emotionless voice. Young and scared, I hid in the curtains
while she screamed. Her last words were punctuated by her yanking the pendant
off and tossing it across the room. Dad scooped it up, crossed the room in long
strides and pulled her to him. His fingers traced the edge of her face before
he kissed her. He lowered the pendant over her head, and the angry lines on her
face melted into a smile. It’s not exactly a good memory, but it was her.
Now, I find myself smiling, too. Surely he won’t mind if I
wear it. Something so precious to her shouldn’t be left to rust in the attic.
I’m almost certain she’d want me to have it, so I slide the pendant into my
pocket with the brooch and pack the other contents of the box away.
Easing the door closed, I climb out of the attic and head to
the bathroom to clean my dust-covered hands. Water rushes from the spout and
splashes against the sides as the basin fills. A reflection of me stares back
at me from the mirror, my dirty hand clutching my aching chest. Today
everything feels so raw, open, and fresh, like it only just happened. She
should still be here.
Rubbing my hands clean, I delve into my pocket for the
jewelry. Bringing it to my collar, I pin the brooch into my blouse. The hard
edges prick my skin. My thumb brushes over the smooth, round sides of the
pendant and when I pull it over my head, the chain catches on my hair. After I
twist it through the tangle so it finally falls cool against my skin, it
nestles in the hollow of my throat. I pick it up between my fingers and with
reverent slow strokes, rub my thumb over the shiny yellow center—the pendant
Mom never took off.
A shiver shoots up my spine and out through my limbs like an
electric current, zapping every cell, every fiber, every part of my being.
Walking on graves, that’s what Mom would have said. Maybe it’s an omen about
her.
I plant my palms on either side of the full basin and peer
into the still water, taking a moment to collect my thoughts. The water
reflects only the cream ceiling. That can’t be right. I do a double take.
My chest tightens. I hold my hand up, but I can’t see it—not
my arm, not my chewed fingernails, not my leather watch on my wrist. Where am
I? Mouth gaping, I look into the mirror again, but I see nothing.
Not even my face.
BUY LINK: Amazon
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Writing for the
young and new adult market, Stacey's books all hold a lot of adventure, a good
dose of danger, a smattering of romance, and plenty of KISSING! Hailing from
the Hunter Valley in New South Wales, she loves nothing more than immersing
herself in the beauty and culture of the local area.
Author of the
Collective Series; Forget Me Not, Remember Me, Never Forgotten. And the Oxley
College Saga; Shh! and Wait!
GIVEAWAY
http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/28e4345f1269">Enter to win a copy of the book - a
Rafflecopter giveaway
Hi Stacey, thank you so much for visiting with me today!
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for hosting me. :)
DeleteCharacters often find themselves in situations they aren't sure they can get themselves out of. When was the last time you found yourself in a situation that was hard to get out of and what did you do?
ReplyDeleteHi Mai!
DeleteThanks for commenting.
With young children, I often find myself thrown into situations I'd rather not be in. Recently, Miss 11 proudly bragged to her teacher about her mum's new book and somehow I found myself standing on a stage during a school assembly with 900 little faces looking up at me. Me the biggest introvert in the world. My knees were knocking, my hands sweating, even my voice came out all quivery, but I soldiered on and spoke to the kids about reading / writing. Now when I'm at school to collect my children, the older students all come up for a chat, to proudly tell me about their latest reads.