quotes Elisquared likes

"Saying 'I notice you're a nerd' is like saying, 'Hey, I notice that you'd rather be intelligent than be stupid, that you'd rather be thoughtful than be vapid, that you believe that there are things that matter more than the arrest record of Lindsay Lohan. Why is that?' In fact, it seems to me that most contemporary insults are pretty lame. Even 'lame' is kind of lame. Saying 'You're lame' is like saying 'You walk with a limp.' Yeah, whatever, so does 50 Cent, and he's done all right for himself."— John Green


Article 5 Series by Kristen Simmons Giveaway Day 3!

I have a VERY exciting giveaway for you all!  It is one of my favorite series and an amazing dystopia that EVERYONE should read!

I hope you have heard of this series, but if you haven't I am talking about the Article 5 series by Kristen Simmons!  There are three books in the series, Article 5Breaking Point, and the newly released on February 11th, Three.

In honor of the release of Three, and how awesome this series is I have 3 sets of the ENTIRE Article 5 series to give away, and they are ALL SIGNED!

To peak your interest I am including some excerpts from each book over the course of the week.  Kristen is so sweet, and her books are so great, so I'm very excited to help share them with you!

Scroll down to the rafflecopter below to enter, and remember the giveaway ends at MIDNIGHT tonight!  So enter while you still can!!

by Kristen Simmons
Released February 12, 2013
Tor Teen



The dream was changing. Even asleep I sensed it.

Before, it had been my mother and me, linked arm in arm, drawn down the center of our deserted street by the same violent destiny: home and soldiers and blood. Always blood. But now there was something different. Off. Needling at me like a riddle I couldn’t figure out.

The asphalt was still broken. Our neighborhood waited, silent and haunted, each condemned front door posting the Statutes like a warning of the plague. Above, a pale, flat sky spanned from shoulder to shoulder, and I was alone.

And then beside me, where my mother should have been, Chase appeared.

Not the Chase of now, but the boy I’d met long ago—messy black hair and the curious, daring eyes of an eight-year-old, white socks winking from beneath the jeans he’d already outgrown. He darted down the lane and I ran after him, giggling.

He was fast; every time I swiped at him, he escaped, my fingertips always just inches away from his billowing T-shirt. His laughter filled me with something warm and forgotten, and for a time, there was nothing but joy.

But the sky began to bruise, and the carefree way he kicked a rock down the middle of the road suddenly worried me. He was too young to know what was happening—that this place wasn’t safe anymore. With urgency, I reached for his hand.

Curfew, I told him.

But he fought me.

I tried to pull him along, but it was no use; his little hand was slippery in my grasp. The failing light tightened my fear.

They were coming. I could feel their footsteps inside my chest.

Darkness came, black as coal and just as thick, until I could no longer see the houses and all that remained were the innocent boy beside me and the broken street we stood upon.

A soldier approached, his uniform neatly pressed, his slim, agile build too familiar, even at a distance. His golden hair gleamed, a halo in the moonless night.

I knew how this part went, but my heart still thumped all the way down to my stomach. I tried to push the boy back, to keep him away from the man who’d killed my mother. You will not touch him, I told Tucker Morris, but no sound came from my lips. Still, the cry echoing in my head seemed to infuse Tucker with speed, and suddenly he was upon us, three feet away, aiming a gun directly between my eyes.

I screamed for the boy to run, but before I could turn to do the same, my gaze found the man’s face.

It wasn’t Tucker. Before me was a different soldier, one with pallid skin and eyes long dead, and a hole in his chest that wept blood. One we’d killed to escape the hospital in Chicago.


I gasped, tripped, and fell backward. And left the boy beside me exposed to the weapon.

Harper shot, a sound that made the world quake and the street break open. And when it stopped, the little boy lay motionless, a fist-sized hole punched through his rib cage.


Terms and Conditions:
  • Open only to US residents!  
  • No INT entries!  
  • Must be 13 years old to enter.  
  • THREE winners will win SIGNED copies of the ARTICLE 5 series.
  • Winner will be contacted by email to inform them they won.
  • Winner has 48 hours to respond with mailing address or a new winner will be chosen.  
  • NO PO BOXES as prizes tend to be lost when sent there.
  • I claim no responsibility for lost prizes.
  • Once recipient has received prize, all personal information is deleted.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thanks so much for stopping by; I love to hear from you!

Happy reading!!!!

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...