Title: New World: Rising
Author: Jennifer Wilson
Series: New World (Book 1)
Genre: YA/Dystopian
Publisher: Self Published
Release Date: Aug 14 2014
Edition/Format Available In: eBook
Blurb/Synopsis:
Since witnessing her parents’ murders at
the age of eleven, Phoenix’s only purpose in life has been to uphold her
mother’s dying words- to be strong and survive. But surviving outside of The
Walls- outside of The Sanctuary- is more like a drawn-out death sentence. A
cruel and ruthless city, Tartarus is run by the Tribes whose motto is simple,
“Join or die.”
Refusing to join and determined to live,
Phoenix fights to survive in this savage world. Trusting no one, she lives as a
rogue, fending only for herself. Then in a moment of rash judgment, she breaks
all of her rules to save a child, and in that moment her life is turned upside
down. When the rescue mission goes awry, Phoenix is captured by an underground
group who claims no allegiance with neither the Tribes nor The Sanctuary. She
finds herself in the most dangerous game of survival she has ever played.
In her captivity, only one person- the
handsome and oddly sympathetic Triven- shows Phoenix something she has never
before experienced: kindness. While warring with unfamiliar emotions and still
skeptical of her captors' motives, Phoenix quickly realizes that these people
may just hold the key to her lost memories. But who can she trust, when no one
can be trusted? Not even herself.
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~ * ~
Excerpt:
The wind slapped my face as I looked down
on the city below me. The scarce figures moving in the streets looked like
ants. Their small bodies skittered through the shadows, avoiding the few street
lamps that still worked. The dark meant protection, safety. Those amber pools
of light meant exposing yourself, being seen, and no one wanted to be seen out
in the open. Not unless they had a death wish.
Death sounded nice sometimes. It would be
so… easy.
I leaned out farther from the ledge, rising
on my toes to support the shifting weight. One little movement, one second of
letting go and it could all be over. I wouldn’t even have to watch my impending
collision. I could just close my eyes and wait for the pavement to claim me. I
doubted I would even feel it. My consciousness would surely be gone before even
the Scavengers found me.
I could jump.
I wouldn’t be the first to give up, to want
out.
A cold gust of wind pushed the hood back
from my face. I leaned backwards, letting my heels fall to meet the solid
cement again. It would be easy, too easy. My mother’s last words echoed
in my mind. “Be strong, survive.”
It had been six years since I watched my
parents’ murders. Six years of hiding, of surviving this god-forsaken place.
Six years could make people forget, lose themselves, but it only sharpened my
hate. Chiseling their deaths, their last words into every fiber of my being.
“Be strong, survive.”
Those three words made me get up, made me
eat, and made me keep moving. And those same three words haunted me every day.
I closed my eyes, seeing my mother’s face.
She was beautiful. I always looked too much like her, but her face was soft.
That softness was lost on me. I was hardened. I could still feel the iron bars
of the grate pressed against my palms. See my father’s scared face as he
lowered me into the storm drain. Hear my mother’s voice as she slipped the
backpack over my shoulders. I watched silently from the prison where my parents
placed me as the Ravagers took their lives. My knuckles bleeding as I pressed
them to my mouth to keep from screaming. I saw my father bleed out as he
watched them rape his wife. I listened to my mother fight back before they took
her life too. I fought to free myself, to save her, but the grate was too
heavy and I was too weak. Later, I watched as the Scavengers came for them,
stealing the clothing off my parents’ backs while their bodies were still warm.
I thought I would die in that storm drain,
trapped forever, but one of the Scavengers saw me— and for reasons I still do
not understand— he pulled up the grate and dragged me out. I should have
screamed or fought him, but I remembered my mother’s words and instead just
held his gaze. He seemed fascinated by my boldness before turning his back to
me. I watched as he pulled my father’s shoes over his own stained and tattered
socks.
“Life’s harsh out here kid, it’s every man
for himself. But don’t say nobody never did nothing for you.” Without a second
glance at me, he tossed my father’s pocketknife at my feet and left me standing
alone in a dark alley.
I was eleven.
After that day I was on my own. I never
trusted anyone, never sought friends. My father had left his journal in the
backpack. It contained plans, ideas for surviving in the city we called Tartarus—
or as the Ancient Greeks referred to it: “The dungeon of the damned.”
I scoured his notes, following them
devoutly. And I survived.
~ * ~
Author’s
Other Works:
New World Series
New
World: Ashes Coming Soon
The Chosen Series
The Chosen Coming
Soon
The
Lost Coming Soon
~ * ~
Author Information:
As a child Jennifer loved getting lost in
the stories of others, but struggled greatly with reading. A notoriously slow
reader who stumbled with words and spelling, Jennifer shied away from books,
leaning heavily on musical theater and movies to get her inspirational fix.
It was not until in her mid-teens, when a
persistent friend convinced her to read the Harry Potter series, that Jennifer
found her love for the written word. J.K. Rowling’s books opened doors not only
to the fascinating world of a young wizard, but to a life filled with a
multitude of literary friends and fantastical worlds. Once a timid reader,
Jennifer now devours books and loves getting lost in a new series.
Jennifer had wanted to write her own novel
since her early twenties, but unfortunately inspiration doesn’t always strike
on command. Her first book, The Chosen, was completed in 2013. But as most first
attempts go, it was a flop. While looking through a multitude of rejection
letters, inspiration struck again, putting Grace’s story got on hold as
Phoenix’s began.
New World: Rising began to fill Jennifer’s
brain, flowing like a fully opened valve from her fingertips. What was once
such a struggle in her early years suddenly became a passion.
When Jennifer is not writing, she is
enjoying life in Colorado, rock climbing, camping, exploring new foods, playing
with her golden retriever, Duke, and sharing her life with her handsome and
wonderful husband.
Author Links:
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