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Hi, Amy! We'd love for you to share five things we’d probably never guess about you. Fun, interesting, edifying or even embarrassing.
Five things you’d never guess about me—seriously? Should I go for the absolute quirkiest stuff about me? Probably. That’s always the most fun, isn’t it? Should I make this a countdown? Of course!
Number five: You’d never guess that I attended a fine arts high school and that my focus wasn’t writing. I actually auditioned for the writing program but wasn’t accepted. I was upset, of course, because that’s what I wanted to do. Well, being the little-engine-that-could that I am, I decided to audition in another discipline—theater. I auditioned—I’m sure it was terrible because I’d never acted in my life—but somehow I got accepted! That place shaped me in ways I couldn’t describe. It opened my eyes to a whole different set of people and beliefs that have made me who I am today.
Number four: I can burp on command. Seriously. Not sure if I’m particularly proud of this, nor do I know if this is something you want to know…but it’s definitely something you’d never guess about me!
Number three: I have a very dry sense of humor. When people are first getting to know me, they sometimes have a hard time figuring out if I’m serious or joking. For some reason, this always surprises me. I guess because those of us who have a dry sense of humor expect everyone to be in on whatever joke we’re telling.
Number two: I used to work in a yoga studio (like over ten years ago). When Bikram (hot) yoga was all the rage, you could walk into any studio in New York and offer to work for free if you could just take classes. Of course, once I started working I never took another class so it didn’t exactly pan out the way I wanted.
Number one: Here we are—we’ve made it to the Number One thing you’d never guess about me. And that is…I secretly love cartoons. I think I watched Saturday morning cartoons until I was in my early twenties. I don’t watch them anymore but it was an obsession. When I was little, I loved Scooby-Doo, He-Man, Thundercats—if it was on, I watched it. Now that I have a toddler, cartoons tend to be on a lot. I do find myself zoning out to Dora, but it’s not the same. Thankfully. I have a lot of writing to do. I don’t need to be distracted.
It’s now 2098. Drian hasn’t thought about the Rendering since she became leader of a rebel faction—mostly because she’s an expert at hiding her feelings behind a thick outer wall of badass attitude.
All that changes when Colvin Hinton walks into her camp. With his easy swagger and even easier demeanor, Colvin makes being a rebel look good enough to taste. But when Drian finds herself tangled in his charms she lets down her guard, giving an old enemy the chance to take her out once and for all.
If loving a man is this dangerous, would Drian have been better off remaining in the clutches of her father and living with the scars of being RENDERED?
Now enjoy an excerpt:
“Do the rest of you want what Liam says? Do you want to raid the arsenal at Brenton? Because I promise you, it won’t be as easy as he makes it out to be, not by a long shot. Not without more bodies and better knowledge. Do we know when the guards change shifts? Do we know all their positions? We need someone on the inside, someone who can provide us with intimate details of the daily runnings of things. Right now we’re going in blind. Are half of you prepared to die? Because that’s what’ll happen if we do this haphazard. But if all of you want to go in, we can do it. I’ll agree to send half of you to your deaths, but you must give me time to increase our forces so that when I’ve lost most of you, we can still rebuild this camp and keep surviving.”
Liam snorted. “Always simply surviving. I want more than just survival, Drian. And I’m not the only one. You’ve had plenty of time to come up with a plan to make our lives better. How much more time do you need?” He turned toward the gathered crowd. “How long will we listen to excuses?”
The fire caught on a new log and intensified. Drian felt the heat wash over her, flushing her face and body with its energy. She let it fuel her words. “Then let’s do it. Let’s form a plan, go in and attack the fort. We have, what, fifty people? Not including the children, of course. Let’s send them all in, and when Becker’s men capture us—because he will; there’s a few hundred guarding the place—who will rescue us? The children we’ve left behind?”
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