Synopsis:
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.
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.
Desert Rice Excerpt
I was mighty grateful that he covered her up, especially
when he said that death made a person look frightful, and that I shouldn't even
attempt to look.
Yeah, no problem
there.
"Just do it or I'll clock you upside your head."
He bent down and placed his hands under her arms to get a good grip. "Grab
'er feet, and when I say lift, you'd better lift, or else."
I wanted to tell him to leave me alone, and that just
because he was older than me didn’t give him the right to tell me what to do,
but his warning look kept me from saying a word. I bent over to take hold of
her feet and accidently breathed in the acidic smell of decay, alcohol, and
cheap perfume permeating from the sheet.
Bile burned in my throat, and my eyes stung and began
watering. I rolled my shoulders forward when my stomach lurched, but despite my
body's mad attempt to force me to puke my guts out, only dry heaves followed,
over and over. It took a while for the waves of nausea to settle, but my head
swam in dizziness and my body ached—boy, did I hurt. My legs wobbled and my
insides twisted and cramped, but I didn't throw up. Once the dry heaving
stopped, I swiped the back of my hand over my mouth to remove a fine thread of
spittle from my lips.
"I'm sorry." Jacob's face softened, though he
continued to hold onto Mama's shoulders, letting me know we still needed to
move a dead body. "I really am."
"Whatever." I gave in, bending and grabbing my
dead mama's ankles. "Let's do this."
Author Bio
I hear voices. Tiny fictional people sit on my
shoulders and whisper their stories in my ear. Instead of
medicating myself, I decided to pick up a pen,
write down everything those voices tell me, and turn it
into a book. I’m not crazy. I’m an author. For
the most part, I write contemporary Young Adult novels.
However, through a writing exercise that
spiraled out of control, I found myself writing about zombies
terrorizing the Wild Wild West—and loving it.
My zombies don’t sparkle, and they definitely don’t
cuddle. At least, I wouldn’t suggest it.
I live on the benches of the beautiful Wasatch
Mountains with two lovely children, one teenager, and a
very patient husband. I graduated from Utah
State University with a B.A. degree in English, not because
of my love for the written word, but because it
was the only major that didn’t require math. I can’t spell,
and grammar is my arch nemesis. But they gave
me the degree, and there are no take backs.
As a child, I never sucked on a pacifier; I
chewed on a pencil. I’ve been writing that long. It has only
been the past few years that I’ve pursued it
professionally, forged relationships with other like-minded
individuals, and determined to make a career
out of it.
You can find me at my website, where I blog
obsessively about my writing process and post updates on
my current works. I’m also on Twitter and
Facebook, but be forewarned, I tweet and post more than a
*Disclosure of Material Connection: I am a member of Reading
Addiction Blog Tours and a copy of this book was provided to me by the author.
Although payment may have been received by Reading Addiction Blog Tours, no
payment was received by me in exchange for this review. There was no obligation
to write a positive review. All opinions expressed are entirely my own and may
not necessarily agree with those of the author, publisher, publicist, or
readers of this review. This disclosure is in accordance with the Federal Trade
Commision’s 16 CFR, Part 255, Guides Concerning Use of Endorcements and
Testimonials in Advertising*
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