Perry Road
Revolution Series
By: Emi Gayle
Release Date: TODAY!
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In 2132, “We the people …” means nothing, and it hasn’t for a hundred years.
Like all the citizens of the American Union, eighteen-year-old Erianna Keating is not to ask questions. She is not to believe anything except what the A.U. tells her. More importantly, she’s not supposed to know what she doesn’t know, nor that she’s a pawn.
Like everyone else, though, she is, and like everyone else, she is a hundred percent oblivious to what’s going on.
Or is she? Are they?
Erianna thinks going to Perry Road and joining the national registration program is her next step toward adulthood; the 2132 candidates for adult-classification, though, are in for a big surprise. Especially Erianna.
Thanks to Zane Warren, an awkward but hot guy who won’t shut up about a history that doesn’t—or shouldn’t—matter anymore, Erianna will know. Will learn. That includes finding out what actually happens after registration and doing something, anything, about it.
Fixing what went wrong, what caused the U.S.A. to split into two countries, though, is not on Erianna’s bucket list, but as she faces her future, she must decide whether to fall in line with the American Union’s plan for her, or to consider that Zane might not be wrong, and the time for revolution begins now.
Book Excerpt:
Which I could be. Don’t want to
be. Really, really, really don’t, and staring at Cam in her new
clothes without holes, her clean hair cut by a professional and the fact that
she’s my friend reminds me why: Flukes are poor. I should know. My mom is one.
The
animation keeps going as if it’s really trying for me—not that it can. I drop
my P-Comm to my leg just as dark words appear on screen. My heart picks up
speed, and a tingly tension takes over.
“Well?”
Cam asks.
For
some reason, I don’t want her to know. I want to find out by myself if I’m
going to get a real life, or if I’m destined to wear hand-me-downs from twenty
years ago until I’m ninety. I want to prepare, to plan, to cry if we don’t get
to go together, or if I’m not like her.
I’m
not, of course—in any way like her. Who am I kidding?
After
what seems like hours, but is only seconds, I say, “Nothing.”
“Damn.”
She throws her arms up in the air. “Figures. And it’s almost five. So, you
know, I gotta go. Mom’s sure I’m going to be chosen to pop out babies, like she
is, so she wants to make sure I know how to cook before the fake chefs get
ahold of me to ‘teach’ me.” Cam gives me a dramatic eye roll and places a hand
to her forehead. “Like, oh, my Oz, Eri, you know? We have people to cook for us
for a reason. Duh! If I learn to cook, what job am I going to give someone like
your mom, you know? And why would I get picked to be fat and ugly when I look
like this?” She bats at her blonde curls.
Wanting
to change the subject—to anything but the woes of Cam’s perfect life—I walk to
her, give her a hug and a quick pat on the back. “I’ll … call you when I get
it, ‘kay?”
“You
better. We only have two days to shop for the perfect outfit. Why couldn’t your
birthday be October twenty-ninth instead of December?” She snatches up her
coat—preparation for the winter blast that will tear into uncovered skin. “And
… you’re not a fluke. You will get in the white house, and when January first
comes, we’ll be official!” She boogies her way out, hips wiggling. For someone
who’s not happy about the prospect of becoming a baby factory, she’s awfully
chipper.
I know
it’s because she’s waiting to hear my fate. To prove I’m not a fluke. To
validate my relevance as her friend—the one girl Cam can give backhanded
compliments, and, for that matter, insults all day long, and still walk back in
with a smile as if nothing happened.
Cam
walks through the hallway and says goodbye to my mom who’s probably still
working at her makeshift office in our miniature kitchen—trying, I assume, to
avoid the whole days’ events. As much as Cam wants me to not be a fluke, my mom wants me to be one. If I’m like her, nothing
will change. Like Cam, I’ll be the same old Erianna, just one day older and as
useless as all the other flukes in the world.
The
front door opens and closes, and I move to the window. Once Cam disappears from
view, and only then, I turn over my P-Comm and touch the one message that sits
inside.
The one
that says: “Invitation for Erianna Price Keating.”
About the Author:
I had a really great bio in my
head around midnight one night …. right before I fell asleep and it disappeared
into the nothingness of unconsciousness. Bummer. So here’s something less well
thought out.
I want
to be young again, so I’m kinda sorta living it again. At least on paper. You
see, I write paranormal romance. Now, that stuff can get really hot, and really
gritty and well … mine does. But! My characters are teenagers, 18 and under.
Like I was once … and want to be again.
Why
would I want to be a teenager again? Geez. Because! If you met the man of your
dreams at 14 was engaged to him at 19 and married him at 20, wouldn’t YOU want
to do all that over again? Especially if you were still in love with him? I
mean, c’mon! It’s love! That’s why I write, too.
You
see… just because you pass a certain age doesn’t mean you forget what it was
like to be 14, 15, etc. Actually, because I kinda grew up with my husband, we
both still feel like the 14 and 17 year old kids we once were. So that’s where
I’m coming from. You might think it’s totally lame, but you know what? That’s
ok! Maybe you’ll like my other me instead.
To find out more you can find her at:
Emi Gayle
Facebook
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To find out more you can find her at:
Emi Gayle
Goodreads
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