The book tour for Spectacle by S.J Pierce stops here today!(Through Xpresso Book Tours) I have a excerpt and general information all ready to go!
Spectacle by S.J. Pierce
Publication date: July 13th 2015
Genres: Science Fiction, Young Adult
Publication date: July 13th 2015
Genres: Science Fiction, Young Adult
Synopsis:
Hunger Games meets Avatar in this spellbinding new Young Adult, Science-Fiction novel by bestselling author Susan James Pierce.
Two hundred years after the Great Disaster, the day earthquakes ravaged Earth’s landscapes, humanity has finally regrouped and is working toward a better future. But in New America – one of three remaining landmasses – the threat of overpopulation makes a better future seem bleaker by the year.
Mira (Mirabella) Foster and her parents are citizens of New America, and with the threat of starvation and disease looming on the horizon, a new discovery threatens to push everyone to the brink of chaos: blue markings develop on people’s skin. Markings that allow them to camouflage their skin, but also make them feared, and eventually, targets of violence.
Mira’s dad is one of them.
Two hundred years after the Great Disaster, the day earthquakes ravaged Earth’s landscapes, humanity has finally regrouped and is working toward a better future. But in New America – one of three remaining landmasses – the threat of overpopulation makes a better future seem bleaker by the year.
Mira (Mirabella) Foster and her parents are citizens of New America, and with the threat of starvation and disease looming on the horizon, a new discovery threatens to push everyone to the brink of chaos: blue markings develop on people’s skin. Markings that allow them to camouflage their skin, but also make them feared, and eventually, targets of violence.
Mira’s dad is one of them.
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Excerpt
Following the scent of cheese toast and
eggs, I stop short when I see my mom standing in the kitchen doorway, her hands
fidgeting with the frayed hem of her apron, a tight smile on her face. I don’t
like the way she looks at me – worried and afraid and about to cry all at the
same time. “Mirabella, dear,” she says, almost whimpers. “Daddy and I need to
talk to you.”
Heat crawls over my skin, flushing my
cheeks and leaving gooseflesh on my arms. Dread squeezes my lungs. “Okay,” I
manage, but it takes me a minute to remember how to walk. Mom doesn’t move out
of my way.
I notice the radio isn’t on again. Dad
usually listens to it for his morning news.
She kneels to look me at me on my level,
and I know now something really bad must have happened… or is happening. Yet
again, the rings around the moon were right.
“Everything’s okay,” she lies, reading my
worried expression, “But I want to warn you about your father before you see
him.”
My eyebrows draw together. Warn me?
I hear dad shifting in his chair, and he
grunts nervously. My chest clenches tighter. All I want is to see him. To know
what’s going on. I can’t fathom what she would have to warn me about.
“His skin is… different than before.”
“Different?”
“Yes, baby,” she soothes. “And whatever
you do, please don’t scream. You know how thin these walls are.”
“Okay,” she says, clasping my hand and
straightening, “It’s time.”
She leads me into the kitchen, my heart
racing, eyes snapping right to my father. He’s sitting with his face behind his
hands, his elbows resting against the tabletop. The skin on his arms and hands
look the same to me – smooth and the color of coffee with milk. Still normal. I
breathe a sigh of relief.
“Is she looking?” he asks through his
hands.
I answer for her. “Yes, daddy.”
He lets out a long slow breath – a
brooding sigh.
“Show her, Grant,” mom pleads.
Moments pass. He sighs again and slowly
moves his hands away. Behind them, blue marks, starting at the corners of his
eyes, branch out in a rough, jagged pattern - like webs of blood vessels, but
more defined - over his cheekbones and stopping along his jawline. Smaller
patches curl around his temples. It almost looks like a butterfly, almost
beautiful, like these odd markings are meant to be there. Like someone had
painted them for fun. I would assume this is all a joke had my mom not been
acting so weird.
I look up to her questioningly. Why would
this have made me scream?
Her hand meets her chest, and I can tell
she’s relieved I didn’t freak out, but not all the concern is gone from her
eyes. At least she’s smiling normally now.
“So you aren’t afraid?” she asks.
“Why would I be?”
Her lips press tight. She throws a nervous
glance at my father.
“Because these are permanent,” he says.
“And they’ll get worse.”
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