Samantha Jean Haggert is a beautiful twelve-year-old girl—but no one knows it. All they see is an awkward boy in a baseball cap and baggy pants. Sam’s not thrilled with the idea of hiding her identity, but it’s all part of her older brother’s plan to keep Sam safe from male attention and hidden from the law. Fifteen-year-old Jacob will stop at nothing to protect his sister, including concealing the death of the one person who should have protected them in the first place—their mother.
Sam and Jacob try to outrun their past by stealing the family car and traveling from West Virginia to Arizona, but the adult world proves mighty difficult to navigate, especially for two kids on their own. Trusting adults has never been an option; no adult has ever given them a good reason. But when Sam meets “Jesus”—who smells an awful lot like a horse—in the park, life takes a different turn. He saved her once, and may be willing to save Sam and her brother again, if only they admit what took place that fateful day in West Virginia. The problem? Sam doesn’t remember, and Jacob isn’t talking.
I really enjoyed reading this fast paced story. The first couple of chapters had me hooked to the point that I read it in almost one sitting. Being a part of this tour was a great way to be able to read this absolutely wonderful book. Having the story line keep a realistic score was one of the great points in this book. Some of the scenes were a bit...well...intense for me but that only added to the story. I enjoyed that the author didn't give it the typical "happily ever after" ending, because it just wouldn't have worked for me. This story could not hold up to that kind of ending. I really enjoyed getting to know the characters, and can't wait to read more from the author :)
Angela Scott hears voices. Tiny fictional people sit on her shoulders and whisper their stories in her ear. Instead of medicating herself, she decided to pick up a pen, write down everything those voices tell me, and turn it into a book. She's not crazy. She's an author. For the most part, she writes contemporary Young Adult novels. However, through a writing exercise that spiraled out of control, she found herself writing about zombies terrorizing the Wild Wild West--and loving it. Her zombies don't sparkle, and they definitely don't cuddle. At least, she wouldn't suggest it. She lives on the benches of the beautiful Wasatch Mountains with two lovely children, one teenager, and a very patient husband. She graduated from Utah State University with a B.A. degree in English, not because of her love for the written word, but because it was the only major that didn't require math. She can't spell, and grammar is her arch nemesis. But they gave her the degree, and there are no take backs.
Blog - www.angelascottauthor.com
Twitter - @whimsywriting
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/AngelaScottWriter
Stalk me (I like it) at:
“Grab ‘er feet!”
Grabbing her feet meant I had to touch her, and that was the last thing I wanted to do.
“Don’t just stand there.” Jacob bent over and took hold of her by the shoulders. “I can’t do this on my own.”
I shook my head. “I can’t.” The stench was awful and it made me gag. Using the collar of my shirt, I pulled it up over my nose to help diffuse the smell.
Jacob stood and starred me down. “Sam, there’s no other way. You have to help me. Just grab ‘er feet so we can get this over with.”
The idea of touching a dead body scared me and I shook my head once more.
“So you want to leave her here?” He swung his arm wide. I flinched, but my brother wasn’t trying to hit me, only emphasize his point. He needed help, and there was no one else to give it to him but me. “Out here, where people can see her and the wild dogs might get at her? Is that what you want?”
No, I didn’t want that. Of course, I didn’t want that. I’m not that cruel, but I still didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t care that she was my momma. I was frightened. I’d never been this close to death before. What would it feel like to touch a dead person? Would she be as stiff as a
board? What if the sheet fell off her face and I saw her staring right at me? I’d have nightmares forever. I just didn’t want to do it.
“We have to get her inside,” Jacob said. “It’s the right thing to do. It won’t be that bad, I swear. We’ll be quick. I need your help, Sam. You have to help me.”
Jacob had already wrapped her in a bed sheet. He rolled her up tight like you see in the movies where they roll a dead body up in a rug. He told me to wait inside while he did it. I was grateful she was covered up, because Jacob said that death makes a person look frightful, especially if they died rather violently, and that I shouldn’t even attempt to look. I had no intentions of looking—none whatsoever. She was already beginning to smell. The smell of death assaulted my senses and it took everything I had not to pinch my nose. I wanted to, but I didn’t. I figured that would be rude.
Jacob found her outside the trailer, stone cold on the dirt packed ground. He said he could smell the alcohol on her. I didn’t know what it would be like to have a mother who didn’t smell of beer, cigarettes, and cheap perfume. I figured all mommas smelled that way; around these parts, most of them did.
Here's the tour lineup ;)10/26 Janiera Eldridge
10/29 The Cover by Brittany 11/8 Books, Books and More Books
11/13 Keeping Up With The Rheinlander's
11/15 Red Headed Bookworm
11/16 5 Girls Book Reviews
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