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

Showing posts with label giveaway. Show all posts
Showing posts with label giveaway. Show all posts

3.21.2023

BLOG TOUR - THREE DROPS OF BLODD BY GRETCHEN MCNEIL - YA THRILLER [REVIEW + GIVEAWAY]

I am excited to be a part of the blog tour for Three Drops of Blood by Gretchen McNeil from Rockstar Book Tours.  Check out my review below, and don't forget to enter the giveaway! 

Book Information


Title: Three Drops of Blood
Authors(s): Gretchen McNeil
Publication Date: March 21, 2023
Edition: Hardcover, eBook, audiobook; 336 pgs
Publisher: Disney-Hyperion
SourceRockstar Book Tours
Find ItMajor Retailers
Disclaimer: I received a copy from the publisher as part of a blog tour in exchange for an honest review.  My thoughts and opinions are my own.  Please note the purchase links above are affiliate links.

Tour Schedule
Week One
3/1/2023 - Kait Plus Books - Excerpt/IG Post
3/2/2023 - Books and Kats - Excerpt 
3/3/2023 - YA Books Central - Excerpt/IG Post
3/4/2023 - The Momma Spot - Excerpt 

Week Two
3/5/2023 - Forthenovellovers - Review 
3/6/2023 - Thrillersandhistoricalfiction - IG Review
3/7/2023 - The Litt Librarian - Review/IG Post
3/8/2023 - gsreadingspree - IG Review
3/9/2023 - @pages.for.sanity - IG Review/TikTok Post
3/10/2023 - pluvioreads - Review/IG Post
3/11/2023 - onemused - IG Spotlight

Week Three
3/12/2023 - Dreaminginpages - IG Review
3/13/2023 - OneMoreExclamation - Review/IG Post
3/14/2023 - Emily Ashlyn - IG Review/Facebook Post
3/15/2023 - A Dream Within A Dream - Review/IG Post
3/16/2023 - travelersguidetobooks - IG Review
3/17/2023 - @bookishlifeofkels - IG Spotlight
3/18/2023 - Lisa Loves Literature - Review/IG Post

Week Four
3/19/2023 - A Blue Box Full of Books - IG Review/LFL Drop Pic
3/20/2023 - a GREAT read - Review/IG Post
3/21/2023 - Eli to the nth - Review/IG Post
3/22/2023 - Country Mamas With Kids - Review/IG Post
3/23/2023 - @just_another_mother_with_books - IG Review
3/24/2023 - @enjoyingbooksagain - IG Review
3/25/2023 - Just Another Reader - Review/IG Post

Week Five
3/26/2023 - popthebutterfly - Review/IG Post
3/27/2023 - @froggyreadteach - IG Review
3/28/2023 - @drew_ambitious_reading - IG Review/TikTok Post
3/29/2023 - Ramblings of a Coffee Addicted Writer - Review 
3/30/2023 - GryffindorBookishNerd - IG Review
3/31/2023 - Momfluenster - IG Review/Facebook Post


The Summary

A Good Girls Guide to Murder meets Hitchcock in this novel from celebrated author Gretchen McNeil. A mundane office job takes a dark turn when a girl witnesses a double murder through the window.

Being an actress, Kate is no stranger to drama. And when her chance at a leading role gets cancelled, she is willing to do whatever it takes to get her acting career back on track even if that means getting a boring office job at her best friend's father's law firm so she can prove to her parents she can to support herself rather than go back to high school. Now, rather than living life on the big screen, she is stuck filing mundane contracts and watching the people in the office across from hers live their equally boring lives.

But when Kate sees things heat up between a woman and her assistant, her new source of entertainment take a turn for the worse when she witnesses a double murder. Now, she must get anyone to believe her and find out who this mystery woman is to get answers. But as she learns more and more about the circumstances leading to the gruesome act, she begins to realize there is a bigger mystery under the surface...

In this voyeuristic thriller filled with twists and turns, can Kate get anyone to believe her before she becomes the next victim?

My Review

A mix of contemporary and thriller, Three Drops of Blood is the latest book from author Gretchen McNeil.  YA thrillers are McNeil's bread and butter.  What makes Three Drops of Blood interesting is that it starts off reading as very much a contemporary YA.  This kind of threw me, as the cover jacket alludes to this being a thriller from the get.  

The story follows Kate, a teen actress trying to make her big break when things just go to the left.  Her co-star and the showrunner are caught in a scandal, causing the show to be cancelled.  This all leads to her parents firmly trying to squash Kate's dreams of being a full-time actor sans finishing high school or going to college.  They force her to prove to them she is capable of responsibility and making it on her own, so Kate ends up working at her best friend's father's law firm for the summer.  And that's where she witnesses something she never expected to, a woman being murdered in the office across the courtyard.

The pacing of this book is a little disjointed, as like I mentioned, the start reads just like a YA contemporary, chronicling Kate's acting journey and disagreements with her parents on her future.  As we are following Kate live her mundane life (not to say it isn't important), we get thrown into a fantastical story.  This both highlights the disjointed pacing, but also makes sense.  If a normal person witnessed a murder, it would surely fracture their lives. 

Kate tries to tell people, her parents, the police, etc. but no one believes her.  With it being a take on Rear Window by Alfred Hitchcock, that makes sense, otherwise we wouldn't have this junior sleuth opportunity for Kate. The thriller portion of the book is really what shines, as McNeil is great at crafting twists and anticipation.  I feel like if the life issues Kate experienced were cut a little so readers could get to the murder, this book would've been a solid 4 stars.

Overall, this is a fun, modern update to a classic thriller.  Kate proves herself to be a capable, smart, and strong lead.  While you have to suspend disbelief, I felt it was a fun world to sink into once Kate started her investigation.  McNeil proves herself to still be able to craft an engrossing thriller, and I would recommend this to fans of thrillers and mysteries.

Final Rating



Excerpt

PROLOGUE 

KATE SAT AS STILL AS SHE COULD IN THE FAUX LEATHER ARMCHAIR, sweat pilling up on her forehead and chin beneath the intense heat of the two thousand-Watt open face Tungsten flood lights while Marielle,  her makeup artist, stood at her shoulder, powder brush poised and ready. 

Kate was used to these moments of forced stillness. After three months in production on the Dirty Pretty Teens series, she’d gone from acting novice to seasoned pro, and she’d learned to sit quietly between takes and let the professionals do their jobs. 

At first, she’d wondered why they couldn’t, like, turn off the damn lights so it wasn’t as infernally hot while the actors held in place, but since the rest of the cast—all television veterans—were unfazed by the uncomfortable heat, Kate kept her thoughts to herself. Eventually, she realized that the grips frequently scuttled around resetting and rearranging the entire lighting apparatus during brief interruptions as the A.D. and cinematographer tweaked their setup. These pauses in the action were only a pause for the actors. Everyone else was still in motion. 

But this hold was different. Instead of the usual flurry of movement, most of the crew was focused on a corner of the coffee shop set where the director and producers were huddled around a small playback screen. 

Even blonde, teen sensation Belle Masterson, the star of Dirty Pretty  Teens who rarely paid attention to anything that wasn’t directly related to Belle Masterson, was interested in this coterie. Sure she’d whipped out her phone the moment the director yelled “cut” and had pretended to swipe through screens to avoid human interaction, but though her chin was tucked down, her pale cheeks had flushed pink and her blue eyes were fixed on the production team. 

Or on Dex Pratt’s ass. 

Which was essentially the same thing. 

Kate was new to the entertainment industry, but she was pretty sure  that seventeen-year-old actresses throwing themselves at their married, thirty-eight-year-old show runners was frowned upon. Not that it stopped Belle. She took every opportunity to touch Dex—a hand on his arm, a  brush against his shoulder, a playful shove like prepubescent kids who were learning that even negative touching was still touching. When Belle wasn’t eliciting skin-to-skin contact with Dex, she was flirting with him  from afar with signals even Kate’s cataract-ridden great-aunt could have spotted from fifty paces. 

That girl was wild bananas. 

Marielle made her finishing touches on Kate’s nose, her eyes straying  to the brain trust in the corner. “They’d better made a decision soon. You’re going to pumpkin at the top of the hour.”

Kate wasn’t supposed to move when getting her face touched up, but she always smiled when someone on set used “pumpkin” as a verb. It meant she, as a minor, was about to hit the end of her work day when the director would lose her for the next twelve hours. She was the only official minor on the production—Belle Masterson had miraculously passed her California High School Proficiency Exam at sixteen which meant she could work on set as “legal eighteen” without fear of pumpkining—and working around Kate’s availability under California labor law was a huge concern for the production. Usually, everyone moved at lightning speed as Kate’s pumpkin hour approached. 

But not today. 

Marielle swept her long jumbo box braids behind one shoulder and stepped back to check her work. “All set.” 

“Thank you!” Kate said, smiling. Marielle had been a huge help to Kate throughout the production, especially the first week on set when she’d offered gentle nudges and suggestions when Kate had no idea what she was supposed to be doing. Kate was pretty sure she’d have been fired if not for the kindness of her makeup artist. 

The scene they’d just shot was a poignant reminder of Kate’s bewildering first day on set. She and Belle—or rather their characters Noelle and Piper—at a coffee shop, arguing over their romantic entanglements, a mirror image of the first scene they’d ever shot together. She and Belle had sat in those same sticky, slick chairs, morphing from near strangers to BFFs the second the cameras started to film. Kate recalled how desperately nervous she’d been sitting across the table from the former Disney Channel star in her form fitting body con mini dress while Kate’s size sixteen curves were camouflaged by an open plaid blazer that couldn’t have buttoned over her ample chest without popping a seam. Even with brand new highlights in her reddish-brown hair and Marielle’s contouring skills, Kate had felt like a double-wide trailer parked beside a Ducati, and she was positive someone would realize she wasn’t actually an actress and that casting her had been a horrific mistake. 

Kate kept trying to remind herself of how awesome this opportunity was—the role of Noelle in the Dirty Pretty Teens books was certainly not written as a plus size person, and how often did actresses who looked like Kate get to indulge in frothy, soapy roles like this? But instead of calming her down, Kate had only increased her stress, feeling the pressure of  representation. She’d been sick to her stomach with it and the only thing that had saved her were her dad’s parting words when he’d dropped her  off that morning: “All the world’s a stage, Katie-Bear,” he’d said in his deep, booming bass-baritone. “When in doubt, look to the Bard.” 

Usually, Kate rolled her eyes at her dad’s insistence that every situation in the entire universe from asking someone on a date to negotiating global disarmament treaties could be solved with a simple “look to the Bard,” as if Shakespeare was a soothsaying prophet like Nostradamus and his plays were merely blueprints for the centuries that followed. Mack Williams— Shakespearean scholar, former amateur actor, and adjunct professor of Jacobean literature—was biased, but that day, his advice had struck a chord with his daughter. As she’d sat nervously at her makeup station, frantically going through the upcoming scene in her head, she’d started to panic. She was dropping words, reciting her lines out of order, forgetting her blocking. What was her motivation? Why was her character doing any of this bullshit in the first place? None of it made sense. When in doubt, look to the Bard. 

Kate had focused on her character Noelle Wagner, spunky best friend of Belle’s Piper Payne. Noelle was trustworthy and brave, though she harbored a secret crush on Piper’s on-again off-again boy toy Sebastian who had once asked Noelle out before falling for Piper. Meanwhile, Wyatt, the guy Piper really wanted, was pretending to be interested in Noelle in order to make Piper jealous, driving a wedge between the two friends that fueled most of the series’ plot points. It was a ridiculous and convoluted soap opera, and Kate was thankful that she’d never read the young adult novels on which the series was based because there was no way she’d have been able to keep a straight face at the audition if she’d known what was coming. 

Still, convoluted or not, the story lines were reminiscent of the four Athenian lovers in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Piper, Sebastian, Wyatt, and Noelle were easily juxtaposed onto Hermia, Demetrius, Lysander,  and Helena. 

Helena, whose boyfriend falls in love with her best friend. Helena, who sees her best friend turn on her after the gods make both of the men lust after her. 

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, 
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind. 

In an instant, years of Kate’s dad drilling Shakespeare into her unexpectedly paid off as the entire role of Noelle had come into focus. What she wanted, why she wanted it. For the first time since Kate had been cast, it all made sense. 

Maybe Shakespeare really was a prophet? 

Bananas. 

Time and again over the past few months, Kate had returned to  Helena and A Midsummer Night’s Dream when she felt lost. Even now,  on the last day of shooting, in this final scene, a pivotal confrontation between best friends, Helena was a beacon. 

Is all the counsel that we two have shared, 
The sisters’ vows, the hours that we have spent
When we have chid the hasty-footed time 
For parting us? Oh, is all forgot? 

“Act three, scene two,” she said under her breath. 

“What?” Belle turned to her sharply, eyes narrowed, as if she’d caught Kate talking shit behind her back. 

“Oh, um, nothing.” 

“Did you say something about my acting?” 

Not everything is about you. “I was quoting Shakespeare.” “Why?” 

As someone who didn’t care how the sausage was made, the word “why” never came out of Belle’s mouth. Kate was momentarily thrown. Most of their interactions had been Belle monologuing about herself or giving unsolicited advice to her co-star, neither of which required much of a response. Which was fine. When Kate wasn’t sure how to respond,  she usually stayed quiet, and that seemed to be what Belle wanted most of the time anyway. 

Now Belle was looking at her intently, eyes pinched with suspicion, waiting for an answer. 

“I just...I use Helena in A Midsummer Night’s Dream as inspiration for Noelle.” She paused, wondering why she felt the need to explain herself, but couldn’t stop talking. “My dad says you can solve almost any problem by looking to the Bard.” 

It sounded super corny when she said it out loud. 

Belle was silent for a moment, eyes still locked on Kate. “Hot or not?” “Shakespeare?” 

“The chick. Helen.” 

Belle’s priorities were so out of whack. “I guess Helena’s hot?” “You guess.” Belle dropped her phone to her lap, suddenly interested. “And who am I?”

That was a loaded question, but Kate decided to stick with Shakespeare. “I suppose that makes you Hermia.” 

“Awful name,” Belle said, wrinkling her upper lip. “Is she hot?” Kate needed to extricate herself from this conversation before her brain exploded. “Well, she has two different guys in love with her at the beginning of the play.” 

Belle gasped. “That sounds just like me!” Then she picked up her phone and went back to watching Dex while pretending to swipe. And I have to shoot a whole second season with her...
 
Movement and raised voices from the corner of the coffee shop forced everyone to attention. Dex shook hands with the A.D. then slapped the director on the back before turning around to address the entire room. He smiled broadly, an unfamiliar expression and one that made his overly tanned face seem more cheerful than shrewd. For half a second, Kate got what Belle saw in him. He was handsome—sure, like, whatever. This was L.A. Everyone was hot. And Dex’s brand of hot was “white frat boy” laced with a privileged douchebaggery which negated the hotness. But his authoritarian power on the set was, at the very least, arresting, and paired  with a cheerful smile, Kate kinda sorta understood the appeal. 

Except, no, ew. He was, like, almost as old as her dad. 

“Well—” Dex began, then paused dramatically, stretching his arms wide, holding everyone’s attention in his embrace. “That’s a wrap on season one!” 

Belle bolted to her feet, rapidly clapping her dainty hands like a mad pair of hummingbird wings, and let out a high-pitched cheer. It was the signal to celebrate, and the rest of the crew hugged and high-fived on a job well done. 

Dex made his way through a shallow sea of assistants and technicians, shaking hands and slapping people on their backs as if they were all his close, personal friends. He caught Kate’s eye and made a beeline for her. “Excellent job, Kate,” he said, flashing that Hollywood smile—dazzlingly white teeth against overly tanned skin. 

“Thank you.” 

He opened his arms, inviting a hug. “Bring it in.” 

That’s a first. Dex usually kept his cast at arm’s length, which was fine because Kate wasn’t exactly the touchy-feely type, and as he squeezed her shoulders, she felt her body tense. 

“I, uh, can’t believe it’s over,” she said awkwardly. 

“Only season one!” Dex lingered, holding Kate in place long after  she’d have been comfortable pulling away. “I get the pleasure of seeing you again in just a few months.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Belle snarl. 

Dex tugged on her shoulders, pulling her body into his. A fatherly gesture, but Kate didn’t love how her double d’s smushed into his abs. “I’m so glad your friend dragged you to that audition.” 

“Uh, me too.” 

“So. Glad.” He tightened his embrace with each word, his arm dropping from her shoulders to her waist. 

Kate tried to express “I’m stuck here against my will” with just her face, but Belle was all daggers as she rounded the small table that buffered  Kate from her rage. 

“Are you done?” Belle practically spit out the words. 

Kate wasn’t sure if they were meant for Dex or herself, but Dex took  his time releasing Kate from the forced embrace, slowly letting his arms fall away. She scampered aside, smoothing down the lines of her shirt.  “Thanks, Mr. Pratt,” she said, intentionally formal. “I appreciate all of  your guidance.”

Belle stepped between them, honed on Kate like a cheetah on a wildebeest. “I’m sure you do.” 

“You’re very welcome,” Dex said, ignoring the starlet’s jealousy. “See you at the wrap party tomorrow, yes?” 

“Of course.” Suddenly, the Dirty Pretty Teens wrap party was the last place on the planet Kate wanted to be, but she couldn’t no show. She’d promised to take Rowan as her plus one and her best friend would never forgive her if she backed out. “See you then.” 

Dex opened his mouth to respond, but Belle tugged on his arm, shutting him up. Kate headed for her trailer, her actor’s high from shooting the final scene of the season dimming as she struggled with the weirdness of her encounter with Dex and Belle. 

She ventured a glance back at them as she slipped through the door into the tepid February sunshine. Belle was still pouting, hands crossed over her chest like a toddler on the brink of a meltdown. Dex leaned down, whispering, his lips close to her ear. Then just as he was about to pull away, Dex paused. 

And Kate thought she saw him plant a kiss on the arch of Belle’s porcelain neck.


About the Author


About the Author:
Gretchen McNeil is the author of #MurderTrending, #MurderFunding, #NoEscape, I’m Not Your Manic Pixie Dream Girl, Possess, 3:59, Relic, and Ten, which was adapted as the Lifetime original movie Ten: Murder Island in 2017, as well as Get Even and Get Dirty, adapted as the series "Get Even" which is currently streaming worldwide on BBC iPlayer and Netflix.  You can find her online at www.GretchenMcNeil.com, on Instagram @Gretchen_McNeil, and on Twitter @GretchenMcNeil.



Giveaway
1 winner will receive a finished copy of THREE DROPS OF BLOOD, US Only.

Ends April 7th, midnight EST.

CLICK THE GRAPHIC

2.09.2023

BLOG TOUR - LIVE YOUR BEST LIE BY JESSIE WEAVER - YA THRILLER [REVIEW + GIVEAWAY]

  

I am excited to be a part of the blog tour from Rockstar Book Tours for one of the first books published by author Melissa de lA Cruz's new imprint with Disney-Hyperion: Melissa de da Cruz Studios.  Live Your Best Lie by Jessie Weaver is YA thriller that perfectly encapsulates toxic influencer culture.  Check out my review below, and don't forget to enter the giveaway! 

Book Information


Title: Live Your Best Lie
Authors(s): Jessie Weaver
Publication Date: January 24, 2023
Edition: Hardcover, eBook, audiobook; 368 pgs
Publisher: Melissa de la Cruz Studio
SourceRockstar Book Tours
Find ItMajor Retailers
Disclaimer: I received a copy from the publisher as part of a blog tour in exchange for an honest review.  My thoughts and opinions are my own.  Please note the purchase links above are affiliate links.

Tour Schedule
Week One
1/16/2023 - YA Books Central - Excerpt/IG Post
1/17/2023 - Kait Plus Books - Excerpt/IG Post
1/18/2023 - bookmama85 - Review/IG Post
1/19/2023 - pluvioreads - Review/IG Post
1/20/2023 - YA Book Nerd - Review/IG Post
1/21/2023- Silkybookloverfun - Review/IG Post

Week Two
1/22/2023 - popthebutterfly - Review/IG Post
1/23/2023 - @froggyreadteach - IG Review 
1/24/2023 - OneMoreExclamation - Review/IG Post
1/25/2023 - @reading.late.into.the.night - Review/IG Post
1/26/2023 - @more.books.yes.please - IG Review/TikTok Post
1/27/2023 - Book Briefs - Review/IG Post
1/28/2023 - travelersguidetobooks - IG Review

Week Three
1/29/2023 - @amysbookshelf82 - IG Review
1/30/2023 - NeverKnotReading - IG Post
1/31/2023 - Wanderingwitchreads - TikTok Review/IG Post
2/1/2023 - zaineylaney - Review/IG Post
2/2/2023 - Stacialovestoread - Review/IG Post
2/3/2023 - Nerdophiles - Review 
2/4/2023 - @booksrn_rashi - IG Review

Week Four
2/5/2023 - Review Thick And Thin - Review/IG Post
2/6/2023 - A Dream Within A Dream - Review/IG Post
2/7/2023 - Book-Keeping - Review/IG Post
2/8/2023 - Brandi Danielle Davis - Review/IG Post
2/9/2023 - Eli to the nth - Review/IG Post
2/10/2023 - Momfluenster - IG Review/Facebook Post

The Summary


Social media influencer Summer Cartwright leads a very charmed life: millions of followers, the hottest designer and vintage clothes at her fingertips, a newly minted book deal, the coolest friends, and, until recently, the hottest boyfriend at her über-elite prep school. Every moment of her life has been carefully planned and cultivated to complement her “imperfectly perfect” social media persona. She is truly #LivingHerBestLife.

But when Summer goes missing during her annual Halloween party and then an unscheduled post appears on her feed stating that she’ll be dead within the next five minutes, those closest to Summer know something isn’t quite right―or on-brand. Grace, Summer’s camera-shy best friend; Adam, Summer’s gamer ex-boyfriend; Laney, Summer’s moody camp roommate; and Cora, an influencer wannabe, all decide to investigate. And when they come upon Summer’s lifeless body, they soon realize that no filter is strong enough to mask the lies we tell ourselves.

Told in multiple POVs interspersed with social media posts and flashbacks, Live Your Best Lie has twists and turns that will keep readers turning the page and no one will be able to guess the ending.

My Review

A debut book from the new Disney-Hyperion imprint, Melissa de la Cruz Studios, Live Your Best Lie by Jessie Weaver is an engaging YA thriller for Generation Z.

Live Your Best Lie takes you on an intense investigation of a murder mystery surrounding toxic influencer culture and the currency of high school: popularity.  Summer Cartwright is the IT girl at her high school, and has built a crazy following online, making enemies along the way.  When she's found dead at her own Halloween party by four fellow classmates, the rumors and scrutiny start to focus in on them, each having a reason to want Summer dead.

This was a ride.  I loved the story-telling method, with Instagram posts interspliced with changing POV chapters, interspliced with flashbacks.  Each part brings you closer to the truth, but also lays out even more suspicion.  Each person, Grace, Adam, Lainey, and Cora, all have something major at stake if the detectives continue to dig into the murder, uncovering the leverage that Summer had against them all.  Weaver is able to craft each person's motives together, making the reader question each person, and whether or not they are the killer.  I didn't see the end coming, and it was so satisfying.  This is definitely one I want to re-read, so I can pick out the hints that Weaver sprinkles throughout the book.

Besides the plot, which does drive the story, this book also has such well-crafted, believable characters.  There is a very diverse cast, both in terms of ethnicity and socio-economic status.  And when you go to a prep school, those are important layers.  Each character reacts as a 15-year-old or 16-year-old would, making bad choices and leading with emotion.  Also, this truly feels like teens in the present, as Weaver does an excellent job of using current trends and technology.  This doesn't feel like it will date the book, as some cultural references can, but sets the book up to always be easily identifiable as to have taken place in the 2020s.

A YA thriller with a twisty plot and shady characters makes for a great time.  Fans of Pretty Little Liars by Sara Shepard, One of Us is Lying by Karen M. McManus, and They Wish They Were Us by Jessica Goodman will devour this series starter.  I can't wait to read more from Jessie Weaver!

Final Rating


Excerpt

ONE

Grace Godwin
Saturday, October 31 

5:17 p.m. 

Grace buzzes Summer’s loft with one hand and tugs the hem of her dress with the other. If she’d taken a second to think before calling her Lyft, she would have brought her color-blocked water melon costume to change into instead of wearing it. She’s two hours early for Summer’s Halloween party, because she promised she’d help  set up. 

Halloween is about little atmospheric touches, Summer said when she texted her on Thursday. No one’s better at detail stuff than you,  Gracie Grace. You know you owe me. Pleaaassseee? She followed it up with, With a pineapple on top? and a picture of her pouting in the pineapple dress she bought as her costume. Ever since Summer met that fruitarian on her trip to Bali in June, she’s been almost religiously into  fruit and swears she’d be a fruitarian, too, if the scientists of the world  would get their act together and create a fruit replacement for cheese. 

She also has a spiritual relationship with Gouda.  

Summer’s pouty face picture was overkill. Grace would have helped her set up without any begging, because she’s always been the girl  willing to stream streamers or blow up balloons or do calligraphy  on envelopes. Feeling needed is a rush. Besides, after her fight with Summer a few days ago, she’s been going above and beyond, even  measuring on a scale of one to Grace. She’s lucky Summer is even talking to her. Tonight has to go smoothly.  

So she texted Summer back, saying, No biggie, I can be there a few  hours early, even though it was kind of a biggie because she had to call  out sick from her shift at the taco truck. Grace feels awful about lying to her boss Sofia, but she’s deemed this lie a necessary evil. Though she really, really hopes Sofia doesn’t bring get-well tacos to her house.  Her mom would murder her for ditching work.  

Not to mention that Grace should be using tonight to work on her A Separate Peace essay for AP Lit. Her teacher told her it might stand a chance in some scholarship contest hosted by the College Board, and  Grace needs all the scholarship money she can get. College isn’t cheap. Still, she and Summer have been friends since middle school. You make sacrifices for long-term relationships.  

A gust of wind glues a long strand of Grace’s brown hair to her lip gloss. Shivering, she unpeels it, then hugs her arms around her  chest. Even in Los Angeles, the October air has enough bite that she wishes she could have worn the polka-dotted tights she picked out to  go under her watermelon dress, but apparently, polka-dotted tights aren’t sexy. And why be a whimsical fruit if you can be a sexy fruit?  

While she waits for Summer to buzz her up to her fifth-floor pent house loft, Grace glares at the jack-o’-lantern that leers at her from its stoop pedestal. Stop being such a perv, Jack, she thinks. My eyes are  up here, then automatically feels bad for being rude. In her head. To a pumpkin. She blames her dress, which hangs off one shoulder, for being way shorter than is comfortable. It’s why she bought tights in the first place. She’s pretty sure if she moves the wrong way, everyone will see her butt, or at least the hot-pink underwear that Summer sling-shotted at her from across her bedroom yesterday when Grace mentioned her predicament.
  
“Match your panties and no one will notice,” Summer told her.  “I think they might.”
  
“Whatever.” Summer rolled her eyes when Grace tried to protest.  “If anyone posts photos of your ass online, I’ll hunt them down and destroy them.” 

Grace wasn’t sure if she meant the photos or the photographer. With Summer, it could go either way. Summer shimmied so the feathery headband atop her blond hair bobbed. “You like my pineapple top?”  “Gorg.”  

And it really was. Unsurprising, because Summer makes any thing look fabulous. Her closet is packed with Prada and Gucci but also with vintage finds from the secondhand shop, because... the  environment. One time she wore a boxy skirt from 1991 with the buttons undone halfway up her thigh, and suddenly on TikTok, girls  modeled cute-again 90s items from thrift stores for the #Summer CartwrightChallenge. Her closet fan account reposted her pics with  comments like OMFGGGG this is everything! and True beauty inside and out!! 

So if Summer has a fruitarian revelation and says Grace should be a watermelon, she’ll be a freaking watermelon. Besides, she can’t afford to piss Summer off again. 

Just as Grace is beginning to think Summer isn’t home—her memory is famously short, which sometimes makes Grace feel like a walking reminder app—Summer’s voice echoes tinny through the call box. 

“Gracie! You said you’d be here at five.” 

“Sorry! Traffic.”  

For a moment, Grace thinks Summer might not let her in, then the door buzzes. Relieved, Grace takes the elevator to the top floor. Summer meets her at the front door to her loft, barefoot and fastening her earrings. In her yellow-and-gold dress, her tanned legs seem longer, and her hair is pure sunshine. She looks much older than sixteen.  

“The party is in less than two hours, and the decorations are . . .  ugh.”  

Grace knows her job. When Summer fishes, Grace takes the bait.  “I’m sure they look amazing.”  

“And I’ve posted so many reminders about this party on Instagram, and I’m going live right at seven, and I look like a banana. I can’t look like a banana in front of five million people, one, because  I’m supposed to be a pineapple, and two, aren’t bananas slutty?”
 
The word banana sounds weird to Grace. If she hears a word too many times over, she either becomes certain that it isn’t actually a word, or her brain overloads with fun facts about the word until she goes on a Jeopardy!-level rant. For example, bananas are scientifically considered berries, because their seeds are inside. Also, banana peels, when applied daily, can cure warts.  

“Bananas aren’t slutty, Sum, they’re fruit,” Grace says. “Anyway, does it matter?” 

“You don’t have five million people judging your every move. No one cares what you do.”  

Grace has less than a thousand followers on Instagram, most of  whom followed her after Summer tagged her in pictures, and she’s  logged onto TikTok exactly one time to see what the fuss is about. So  \no, she doesn’t really care what people online think, because no one  online cares about her.

“Well, you look like a pineapple to me,” she says. Because Summer has told her a thousand times she has to cut it with the fun facts, Grace doesn’t tell her that pineapples can be used to tenderize meat.  

When Summer motions for Grace to follow her from the foyer into the living room, Grace’s jaw drops. The Cartwrights’ luxury loft is always impressive with its cathedral ceilings and museum-quality art. But wow. These decorations are not “ugh,” especially compared to the Halloween dances Grace went to in her middle school gym, which involved punch bowls shaped like skulls and orange streamers strewn over the basketball hoops. 

In the living room, floor-to-ceiling black fabric drapes over the windows, and sheets cover the furniture. Someone’s managed to hoist an actual Phantom-of-the-Opera-style chandelier above every thing. The DJ platform in the corner is the only reminder that it’s the twenty-first century. The overall vibe is...Grace takes a moment to consider. Sumptuously undead? 
 
It is incongruous with Summer’s pineapple costume. “Sum.” Grace widens her eyes. “Your place looks—”  “Like a funeral parlor? I know.” 

“I was going to say like the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland.”  “I guess? The decorator thought we should go more refined, but people are going to be too depressed to, like, dance or anything. And this might be my last party, so it has to be perfect.” 

Grace is confused. “What? Why do you say that?” 

Summer shrugs. “You don’t think the decor is too much?”  “No.” Grace doesn’t miss that Summer ignored her question, and she feels a moment of anxiety that she forces herself to swallow down. Panicking won’t help her fix things with Summer. “You got black lights, right?”  

“Yeah, and some colored ones.” 

“Perfect. Lighting will make the room.” Grace perches on the edge  of a sheet-draped sofa. “Your family coming tonight?” Summer flops beside her. “Julian and Miranda are in Dubai until next Friday.” 

“Business trip?”  

“For my dad, yeah. He’s meeting with some sheikh about using his land for that new movie he’s making next spring? She Falls Hard or something like that. Mom’s going for the spas.” She rolls her eyes at the word spas, but who knows with Summer’s mom. She’s probably sleeping in a salt cave for the duration of her trip.  

“So you’re alone?” Grace asks.  

“No. Harrison is staying here while my parents are gone.” Summer  narrows her eyes. “He’s coming to the party, too, if that’s what you’re asking.”  

Grace rolls her shoulders and takes a deep breath. She hasn’t seen much of Summer’s brother this month, what with everything she’s  had going on, but for the past year Summer has been trying to set her up with him. Grace wants to date him. She really does. Or maybe she  wants to want to date him. 

Harrison, a film studies major at UCLA, has no problem shoving a camera into Grace’s face when she’s doing things like eating cereal  first thing in the morning or brushing her teeth, because he thinks unguarded moments are the most real. He and Summer argue about that a lot, actually—whether or not what she does is reality. Harrison  says her page is too cultivated, too look-at-me-being-perfectly-flawed.  Summer says she’s putting her best foot forward. Grace refuses to be the tiebreaker because she thinks both of them are dead wrong. Even though she hasn’t always been able to keep her business offline, it hasn’t stopped her from trying. With Harrison at the party, she doubts she’ll be able to stay off camera. 

Summer and Grace spend the next hour applying their makeup (black seed-shaped freckles on pink cheeks for Grace, and glittery gold  eyelids and lips for Sum) and sipping smoothies, Summer’s current obsession. Green for Summer, strawberry-banana for Grace. Then while Grace sets up the blacklights and calls the DJ to make sure he  isn’t running late, Summer samples the food the caterer prepared. 

“Oh my god, Gracie,” Summer says. “The lobster crostini are to die for. Don’t forget to try some before they’re all gone. Laney’s coming, and I know how much she eats.”  

Grace pins her cellphone between her shoulder and face to give Summer a thumbs-up. The DJ needs driving directions. She also tries to ignore Summer’s comment about Laney, who probably eats a very normal amount.  

Once the DJ arrives and starts the music, the loft buzzes with potential energy—the kinetic will come later once the guests arrive— but Grace’s stomach burns like she chugged acid or, like, a gallon of  coffee. Maybe she should have eaten something when Sum offered while they were doing their makeup. It probably wouldn’t have helped though, because it’s butterflies that are making her feel sick. Adam is  coming tonight. Grace hasn’t seen him since he and Summer broke up  at school last week, and she’s not a hundred percent certain she can keep it together around him all evening. Summer should have uninvited him. Secretly, though, Grace is glad she didn’t. Even though she and Adam have been weird with each other for months, she still likes knowing he’s there. 

Five minutes before seven o’clock, Grace shuts off the main lights and turns on the blacklights. Summer drops dry ice into the punch to make it smoke. They both slide their feet into impossible heels.  They take simultaneous deep breaths.  

Then the doorbell rings, and the party begins.


About the Author


About Jessie Weaver:
Before writing about flawed, funny teens with big hearts, Jessie Weaver spent ten years teaching them English. She completed the Stanford University online novel writing program in 2019. Though she’s an East Coast girl at heart, originally from Baltimore, MD, she currently lives just outside Denver, Colorado with her husband and two daughters. Live Your Best Lie is her first novel.



Giveaway
1 winner will receive a finished copy of LIVE YOUR BEST LIE, US Only.

Ends February 14th, midnight EST.

CLICK THE GRAPHIC



2.07.2023

BLOG TOUR - ONE GIRL IN ALL THE WORLD BY KENDARE BLAKE - YOUNG ADULT FICTION [REVIEW + GIVEAWAY]

 

 I am excited to be a part of the blog tour from Rockstar Book Tours for the next installment in this kick-ass slayer series from Disney-Hyperion, One Girl in All the World by Kendare Blake.  Check out my review below, and don't forget to enter the giveaway! 

Book Information


Title: One Girl in All the World (In Every Generation #2)
Authors(s): Kendare Blake
Publication Date: January 31, 2023
Edition: Hardcover, eBook, audiobook; 352 pgs
Publisher: Disney-Hyperion
SourceRockstar Book Tours
Find ItMajor Retailers
Disclaimer: I received a copy from the publisher as part of a blog tour in exchange for an honest review.  My thoughts and opinions are my own.  Please note the purchase links above are affiliate links.

Tour Schedule

Week One
1/23/2022 - Kait Plus Books - Excerpt/IG Post
1/24/2022 - YA Books Central - Excerpt/IG Post
1/25/2022 - Feed Your Fiction Addiction - Review/IG Post
1/26/2022 - Lisa Loves Literature - Review/IG Post
1/27/2022 - a GREAT read - Review/IG Post
1/28/2022 - Books With A Chance of Traveling - Review/IG Post

Week Two
1/29/2022 - A Dream Within A Dream - Review/IG Post
1/30/2022 - The Girl Who Reads - Review/IG Post
1/31/2022 - Ohyouread - IG Post
2/1/2022 - Satisfaction for Insatiable Readers - Review/IG Post
2/2/2022 - pluvioreads - Review/IG Post
2/3/2022 - Wanderingwitchreads - TikTok Review/IG Post
2/4/2022 - A Blue Box Full of Books - IG Review/LFL Drop Pic

Week Three
2/5/2022 - popthebutterfly - Review/IG Post
2/6/2022 - @novel.novice - IG Post
2/7/2022 - Eli to the nth - Review/IG Post
2/8/2022 - @amysbookshelf82 - IG Review
2/9/2022 - @froggyreadteach - IG Review
2/10/2022 - Emily Ashlyn - IG Review/Facebook Post
2/11/2022 - A Bookish Dream - Review/IG Post

Week Four
2/12/2022 - travelersguidetobooks - IG Review
2/13/2022 - Book Briefs - Review/IG Post
2/14/2022 - @readerofthewrittenword - IG Review
2/15/2022 - @thebookishfoxwitch - IG Review
2/16/2022 - @drew_ambitious_reading - IG Review/TikTok Post
2/17/2022 - Fall Between the Pages - IG Review/TikTok Post


The Summary


Into every generation, a slayer is born. One girl in all the world . . . sort of.

Frankie Rosenberg is the world's first slayer-witch, but she doesn't have that slay-life balance figured out just yet. She's still reeling from the deadly explosion at the annual slayer retreat―and new evidence that some slayers may have survived. And while she's defeated her first Big Bad, Frankie soon realizes it was just a warm-up act. Bigger, badder forces of evil are just getting started.

The Hellmouth has been reawakened and its calling old friends home. Portals are opening between Sunnydale and other dimensions. And the Scooby Gang has too many demons to contend with―real, metaphorical, and sometimes absurdly hot.

Then an oracle warns of a new foe on its way: the Darkness. Could this be what attacked the slayers? And is it coming for Frankie?

New York Times best-selling author Kendare Blake takes readers back to the demon capital of the world in this sequel to In Every Generation.

"A worthy successor to the Slayer stories." ―Booklist (starred review for In Every Generation (Book 1)

My Review

The Slayer and her Scoobies are back!  

Set just weeks after the events of In Every Generation, Frankie, the current Slayer, along with her friends, Hailey, Jake, and Sigmund, are keeping New Sunnydale safe from the threats that lurk in the night (and sometimes day).  Kendare Blake beautifully transitions into One Girl in All the World, not falling into the second book slump, as she ramps up the danger, the lore, and the mystery of this latest Buffy-verse series.

I don't want to get too much into the plot because there's a lot of things happening!  Mystery upon mystery that Frankie and her crew have to unravel, all while dealing with typical high school drama.  This is one thing that Kendare does so well, really harkening back to the feel of Season 1 & 2 of the original tv show.  While Frankie has this epic "destiny", she is also just a teenager with worries over homework, dating, and groundings (yes, even the Slayer can be grounded).  

This book also brings the supporting cast to the forefront, with some chapters told from different points of view.  Hailey, Jake, and Sigmund are all really interesting, and give different perspectives to events. But what I really loved where the POVs from beloved previous characters, like Willow and Oz.  And librarian Spike?!  Like the ultimate mix of my fantasy men... I think that having these "in the know" adults in Frankie's life actually make it easier for her to do her job, even when somethings are at odds.  They are there to support and guide, but ultimately understand that only Frankie can shoulder the true burden.

With more and more demons (some very fun past baddies make a new appearance in the book) heading to the reactivated Hellmouth, Frankie and the gang have their work cut out for them, making for an exciting page-turner.  An excellent addition to the Buffy-verse, and one that really stands on its own merits, One Girl in All the World by Kendare Blake is a must-read for old and new fans of Buffy alike!

Final Rating



Excerpt

Prologue 

The woman cut a slim silhouette against the sunset as she walked  along the deserted highway. It was a long walk on the way to nowhere: this particular road had been bypassed and blocked-off— she’d slipped past two very broken down ‘road closed’ signs—and ended on the edge of what was briefly the great Sunnydale sinkhole.  Of course that sinkhole didn’t last; it was quickly shored up with dirt  to become the shiny New Sunnydale with a much lower elevation. 

It was a long walk but she wasn’t tired, she was a slayer, after all, it took a lot more than cooling desert and flat asphalt to wear her  out—but she was weary. Weary in her bones, weary in her soul. She adjusted the bag on her shoulders and kept going, until she reached  the spot where their bus had stopped after they’d defeated the First. Where Buffy had gotten out and looked over the destruction. Where she had started making plans for all of their futures.

The woman kicked pebbles and watched them roll down the hill,  now a nice, sloping incline rather than a sheer dropoff into hell, and  frowned at New Sunnydale glittering below. All of those people, living like nothing had happened. Sinkhole? What sinkhole? I’m sure that collapse was just a one time thing. No reason to waste all this  prime California real estate. 

She scowled down from beneath her hood. They were idiots, all  of them. Optimistic idiots. The entire place was cursed; she felt it the moment she portaled in. The wrongness. The wicked current, pulsing  through the soil. The . . . hellmouth residue, getting all over everything. She knew she had a slayer’s senses, but there was no way that  regular people didn’t feel it. That much seeping evil left a mark. It  weaved through a person. It became a part of them, so much so that  the whole damn citizenry had evacuated before it all went down, without having to be told. They just knew. 

But people were people, and they’d rebuilt it anyway. Just like people had rebuilt the Overlook Hotel. Or the ones who kept on  building houses on top of old cemeteries without moving the bodies  first. Those were just movies, sure, but the rebuilding was realistic. When it came to their own destruction, humans were predictably  industrious. So New Sunnydale had risen from the ashes. And then the red witch had returned to watch over it, and give birth to her little abomination. 

The woman swallowed. It felt foolish to even set one foot on that  unstable ground, but she did it, one foot after the other, down and  down and down, through shrubs and young trees, past silent bull dozers and construction equipment—because even after eighteen years the city was still a work-in-progress—until she reached the  street. From there she let her slayer sense guide her, but even if she hadn’t had it she would have known the way to the hellmouth by following the school signs. In grand Sunnydale tradition, the idiots had built the high school again, right on top. 

When she reached it she stood outside, staring down the brick and the stark white walls, the flowering vines with their blossoms  closed for the night. New Sunnydale High School was clean and crisp, lit by so many streetlights that it was a challenge to find shadows to slip into. I am not evil at all, it declared. But it was lying. She broke in through a back door near the sports field—and by ‘broke in’ she meant opened an unlocked door without permission— and made her way to the basement. 

And to the hellmouth. 

Being so close to it sent goosebumps up and down the backs of her arms. It made her want to run away. It made her want to scream. And even though there was no definitive marking, no X-marks-the hellmouth, she knew just where it was. And it felt like it knew just where she was, too. 

Before she could hesitate, she walked to it and took off her pack, then reached inside to pull out a large, glowing orb. It was bright and  almost pretty, the green swirled through with flecks of blue like bits of glitter on a sea of thick paint. It looked a little like a bowling ball,  if bowling balls could throb, and it cast the entire space in a strange, ethereal green. Not terribly stealthy. After a moment of deliberation, she grabbed a fire blanket off of a shelf, and used it to cover the orb before setting it down on top of the hellmouth. 

She let go of it gently, expecting it to roll. But it stuck. So firmly and so fast she wondered if she’d have been able to pick it up again, not that she bothered to try. That’s where it belonged, after all. A nice, welcome back present for the hellmouth. Something to draw its  favorite demons, like a demon magnet, or a demon beacon. 

It would give the new slayer something to do, anyway. The woman stood. 

“Phase one, commenced,” she said, before tugging her hood down lower and slipping out of the school the same way she came in.

About the Author

About Kendare Blake:
Kendare Blake is the New York Times bestselling author of several novels and short stories. Her work is sort of dark, always violent, and features passages describing food from when she writes while hungry. She was born in July in Seoul, South Korea, but doesn’t speak a lick of Korean, as she was packed off at a very early age to her adoptive parents in the United States. That might be just an excuse, though, as she is pretty bad at learning foreign languages. She lives and writes in Gig Harbor, Washington, with her husband, their cat son Tyrion Cattister, red Doberman dog son Obi-Dog Kenobi, rottie mix dog daughter Agent Scully, and naked Sphynx cat son Armpit McGee.


Giveaway
1 winner will receive a finished copy of ONE GIRL IN ALL THE WORLD, US Only.

Ends February 21st, midnight EST.

CLICK THE GRAPHIC


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