Genre: young-adult, science-fiction
Publisher: Curiosity Quills Press
Date of Re-Release: March 23, 2015
Cover Artist: Amy Chitulescu
Find Online: Amazon US | Amazon UK | Goodreads
It turns out that a real alien invasion is nothing like the Sci-fi shows 14-year-old Gracie loves. Not when it’s your own family who are swallowed whole by those big silver ships. Not if it could be you next.
In her search for her family, Gracie meets Brandon, a high school dropout who would never have been caught dead hanging out with a dork like Gracie before the world ended. Gracie isn’t too crazy about Brandon either, but he has one thing she doesn’t: A plan.
Brandon’s uncle has a cabin up in Maine, and If Gracie and Brandon can survive long enough to get there they can hide out until the Space Men pack up their ships and leave.
Until the army guys come to rescue them, says Brandon. Brandon is big into army guys. Gracie has to admit that Brandon’s Awesome Plan probably would have worked out great if wasn’t for Jake.
They found 5-year-old Jake, laying half-dead under the remains of someone’s ranch house. He’s a good kid, even if he won’t-or can’t- talk. But Jake has a secret, and when Gracie finds out what it is, the fragile new life they’ve started to forge looks set to break apart.
When the people you’ve been counting on to put the world back together start hunting you down, alien invaders are the least of your worries.
Excerpt: Chapter 1 Untaken
The only thing on TV was the news, and the only thing on the news was the invasion. Who needs the news, I thought to myself as I padded through the house, when you can walk right out the back door and see it for yourself? The wood boards of the porch were hot beneath my bare feet, and it took my eyes a few minutes to adjust to the sun’s glare. Sure enough, when I squinted up at the blue summer sky, all those big, silver ships still hung there, like clouds that never moved. The sun reflected off the metal, causing a shimmer that was too bright to look at for long—not that I wanted to.
When I rubbed my eyes, the shapes of the craft still floated within the blackness inside my head, like they’d invaded my own mind the same way they’d invaded the skies. Even though it was another blistering day, goose bumps covered my skin, and I rubbed my arms as my gaze drifted back to the more reassuring sight of the orderly wooden houses and lawns of my neighborhood. No one had seen the ships coming; they just showed up one day. At first, no one went to work. They all wanted to stay home to see what would happen, even though the TV guys said we had to carry on as normal. People rushed to the grocery store and bought up all the milk and the bread. “Just like when there’s a winter storm,” dad had grumbled. “They planning on fixing our alien overlords a PB&J?”
In our neighborhood, all the houses have these big porches, but people rarely sat on them. Why have a big porch if you’re not going to sit outside? That’s what I always thought. Our own porch had a rocker made of scratchy wicker, and a little table beside it, just big enough for a can of soda and my tablet, and that was where I planned to spend today.
The familiar clatter of Gilda loading the dishwasher rang out from the kitchen, so I scooted down an inch so she wouldn’t see the top of my head over the back of the chair.
Last week, I’d pulled a patio chair out onto the lawn to try and get a tan while I read, but I’d fallen asleep in the chair and woke up burned red like a clam shack special, and the goofy wicker pattern of the chair back pressed into my face.
Mom had gone crazy. “Do you want to get skin cancer?” she’d yelled at me. “Not to mention ruin your complexion. You only get one face, you know. Why do your father and I work ourselves ragged looking after you kids when you never take the least bit of care of yourselves?”
I knew that if Gilda saw me she’d tell me to come inside. She was even more scared of mom yelling than I was. I guess that’s fair. It’s not like Mom could fire her kid, but Gilda didn’t have that security.
Safe under the porch’s shade, I rocked myself slowly to and fro, picking at one of the peeling spots on my arm, the dead skin coming off like tissue paper on the world’s worst birthday gift.
The chair had been painted white and I liked to pick the paint off that, too. On days I sat outside on the deck, paint chips would litter the floor in a circle around where I sat: my own private summer snow storm. I used my foot to sweep the latest flurry off into the begonias, along with the skin, so Mom wouldn’t see the mess when she came home.
It was bad enough I was risking death by instant skin cancer going outside again when she’d said I had to stay indoors, but she’d be doubly mad if she saw I’d plucked a new bare spot on the chair—which was a valuable antique, according to her—and triply mad if she guessed I’d spent all day online again.
JE. Anckorn has been an artist and writer ever since she began to surreptitiously doodle on school supplies instead of learning about practical things, like osmosis and mathematics.
After barely surviving a freak mathematical osmosis disaster, she set out to travel the world, living in New Zealand, Australia and Hong Kong before returning to her native Britain- just in time to marry an American and leave for the U.S.A.She still failed to learn anything about osmosis, but did manage to cultivate an accent that is unintelligible to almost everyone. (It happened through a mysterious net movement of information from the outside environment into her brain. If only there was a word for that!)
This led to her development of a new language, based almost entirely on polite yet uncomprehending nods. In between these adventures, she has worked as a toy designer, copywriter, and freelance illustrator. She lives in Boston, with a small grumpy dog, and a large, slightly less grumpy husband.
Find J.E. Anckorn Online:
Curiosity Quills Press (CQ) is a small hybrid publishing company specializing in genre fiction of the highest quality. With 150+ titles in our catalog already and approximately 6 new books coming out each month, there’s never a dull moment at CQ. We work with major retailers such as Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Audible to ensure that you, the reader, can find whatever you are looking for at your convenience.
Founded in 2011 by Eugene Teplitsky and Lisa Gus, CQ was initially a resource portal for writing and publishing, created in an effort to help writers, like themselves, survive the publishing industry. After rapid success, CQ morphed into publishing press that over time has solidified its share in the market. Now we spend our days searching for the next great escape!