Okay, here's the deal. When did people become "that" instead of "who?" I hear this on the radio on the TV ( and shouldn't news reporters know better )? and unless my memory is wrong, have even read it in places. Why? How hard is it to remember that people require a "who"? And here's another--myself instead of me. My boss did this all this time and it drove me crazy. Are we so afraid to be in the spotlight that we have to say, "So-and-so and myself did such-and-so?"
Today Jennifer Bardsley, Owl Hollow Press, and Rockstar Book Tours are revealing the cover and an exclusive content for NARCOISIS ROOM, her new YA Sci-Fi Book which releases in 2019! Check out the awesome cover!
On to the reveal!
Title: NARCOISIS ROOM
Author: Jennifer Bardsley
Pub. Date: 2019
Publisher: Owl Hollow Press
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Pages: ?
Find it: Goodreads
Total Recall meets Scott Westerfeld’s Uglies.
Sleep for three months and make your problems go away.
Ellie Savage is used to promises. Her dermatologist dad and her psychiatrist mom run the Narcosis Clinic, a medical facility famous for ultimate makeovers, where disturbing issues are resolved while patients are beautified. Clients like pop star Dean Mathews are grateful to narcosis for healing their deepest wounds. Ellie is her parents’ most ardent supporter until her dreams become a nightmare. Ellie discovers that her true self has been shredded to bits by the scalpel and the only way for Ellie to remember is to forget everything she thinks she knows.
Exclusive Excerpt!
A sudden breeze swept my Mariners cap away, and I chased it down the path to the antique merry-go-round. It fluttered to a stop right in front of the ticket girl.
“Nice hat,” she said, smacking her gum. “You know the Mariners suck, right?”
“Tell me about it.” I fished out money from my pocket. “Ten tickets, please.”
“Ten rides?” Her plucked eyebrows shot up. “But you’ll miss the whole concert.”
“I’m a Sam Anders fan,” I lied.
“Whatever.” The girl pocketed the money in her green vest and clicked open the metal gate.
Ten seconds later I sat on a wooden horse spinning into oblivion so fast that my hat flew off again. Painted ponies going up. Painted ponies going down. Mirrors and lights. Grab the brass ring. Up, down, round and round.
The ride was kind of like my life. My history was a blur, the memories hard to grasp. Two years at Remington Prep had ruined me. Something sinister had happened to me at boarding school, but my brain wouldn’t let me remember what that traumatic event was. The carousel went faster and faster until I could no longer hear the din of music in the distance.
Nobody else was riding that night. Only me.
Whoever that was.
Who was I? Who’d taught me to ride a bike? What had happened in middle school? Why didn’t Marley like me? What was that scar on my chest all about? Why was I afraid of water? How long could I live my life without remembering my past? Where were all my details? Mom and Dad were afraid of telling me anything because they wanted my brain to remember on its own, but so far that plan was crap.
When my tenth ride on the carousel was up, I was so dizzy that I could barely climb off the horse. I staggered around for a few seconds before I regained my footing. Then I zeroed in on the totem pole at the top of the field, peering down at me with its eagle eyes. I tramped up the hill across the damp grass.
“Hey,” the merry-go-round operator called after me. “You forgot your hat!”
“Trash it,” I said, not looking back. I felt like I was going to throw up, but not from nausea.
Something sick clawed at my heart. It tore me up from the inside, begging to get out. Begging to be remembered.
When I got to the totem pole, I sank onto my knees. Tears streamed down my cheeks.
And I had no idea why.
About Jennifer:
Jennifer Bardsley writes the parenting column “I Brake for Moms” for The Everett Daily Herald. You can find Jennifer on her website: http://JenniferBardsley.net or on her Facebook page: The YA Gal. An alumna of Stanford University, Jennifer lives in Edmonds, WA with her husband and two children.
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