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Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Teaser Tuesday: Tidal

Good morning, guys! Today I'm teasing from TIDAL, the book that's coming out in December. Before I get to my teaser, I wanted to announce that I have the results from the contest that ended last week and I will be posting them here tomorrow in addition to the TIDAL contest! Also, I want to give a shout out to the wonderful Tanya who runs The Word Maid. Tanya edited Devoured over the weekend for typos and grammar issues, and she had a two-day turnaround. She did such a kick ass job and I'm recommending her to everyone I know. Go check her out!

Now, on to the teaser!

I grabbed my only belongings—a few books and photos of my friends—from the arm chair and crossed the room, dragging my feet across the tile floor. Nora’s husky voice stopped me at the door.

“You’ll write?"
She was stuck in Serenity Hills for another month and a half. She had a family—brothers and sisters, parents, a husband— but as far as I knew, none of them ever wrote. Even if my boyfriend hadn’t stopped partying long enough to write me, at least I’d gotten legal paperwork—lawsuit, lawsuit, judgment, lawsuit—from my parents and the occasional letter.
I couldn’t imagine what I would have felt like if Mom and Dad had ignored me during my three months, much less close to a year. My throat felt dry. I pushed past the discomfort and turned partially around to look at Nora.
“Every day, if you want.”

She snorted and rolled her gray eyes. “Don’t be a lame ass. You be good, Mouse Ears.”

I didn't bother to remind her that I've never done a single Disney film in my career. “You, too. See you around, Nora,” I whispered, stepping out into the hallway. It was cold and sterile.
 “God, Wills, I freaking hope not.”

Yeah, me, too . . . I guess. 

When the counselor closed the door gently, I cringed, as if she’d slammed it instead. At the end of the white passage that’s always reminded me of an actual hospital and not what’s toted as a premiere rehab, my mom and dad were standing on the other side of the counselors’ station. They had their arms wrapped around each other, even though they haven’t been together legally for three years, since I was seventeen. Their expressions were hopeful.


“Welcome back to disturbia,” I murmured under my breath. The counselor raised her eyebrows, but I told her it was nothing. Then, I followed her down the wide hallway, putting on my most convincing smile. It was the look of someone totally fixed and un-screwed up.

My best role to date, and a recurring one, at that.

*Note: This is unedited and will likely change before December.

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