by
Kristen Strassel
MY REVIEW:
14-year-old Callie, short for
Calliope,
immediately falls for 17-year-old
Tristan. Callie is a sheltered good girl living on Martha’s
Vineyard and Tristan is a hurricane of
sexy California boy trouble. He is a rich self-destructive, heavy
drinker, who likes to party hard and Callie is sweet, naive and pure.
I was worried about Callie a lot. While reading it, I was wondering
how far she was going to fall and if he was going to use her and set
her aside. There is an unexpected twist at the end that I didn't see
coming at all. I thought that was interesting. This was a pretty good
little young adult summer romance. I am interested to read the
continuation of this story. 4 stars.
BLURB:
Summer
has finally arrived, along with a boy who will forever change the
life of fourteen-year-old Callie. After growing up hearing stories
about Tristan Trevosier and his famous family, Callie finally meets
him when he spends the summer on Martha's Vineyard.
Seventeen-year-old Tristan is a hurricane of destruction and
rebellion, and he quickly blows a hole right into Callie's sheltered
life. Callie sees a side of Tristan that he doesn't show anyone else.
She's determined to make everyone see what she sees in him.
Callie
defies her parents by leaving the island with Tristan. But when his
ugly habits rear their head, Callie realizes maybe she's the one
who's wrong about him. He's beyond her help. But it's too late for
her to walk away. This summer, she learns that love can be stronger
than reason.
BIO:
Kristen shares a birthday with Steven
Tyler and Diana Ross. She spends each day striving to be half as
fabulous as they are. She's worn many hats, none as flattering as her
cowboy hat: banker, retail manager, fledgling web designer, world's
worst cocktail waitress, panty slinger, now makeup artist and author.
Kristen is represented by Pam van Hylckama Vlieg of Foreword
Literary.
ONLINE LINKS:
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Twitter
@kristenstrassel
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Excerpt
A day to myself. I
wasn’t scheduled for work, but Keisha was. For the first time in a
long time, I was alone in an empty house.
What do I do with
myself? Even on days off, we were up early to tend to the animals.
We kept chickens and a goat too, for eggs and dairy for The Magnolia.
By midmorning, I’d run out of ways to entertain myself. I decided
to grab my book and sunbathe in the yard. I would have rathered go
to the beach, but it was just too much effort to bring all the usual
equipment down there alone.
“Hey,” The
unexpected interruption sent me inches off of my seat. Tristan had
made his way in to our yard without me noticing. He laughed when I
jumped. I settled myself, heart pounding, as usual, and looked up at
him without saying a word to see what the reason was for his visit.
“What are you
doing?” He continued.
I looked down at
the book which was now laying open on my stomach and back at him.
“Reading.” I said slowly, since it was totally obvious what I was
doing before he scared the crap out of me.
“Day off?”
Was he going to ask
me any questions that he didn’t already know the answers to? “I
hope so, or else I’m in big trouble. You?”
“Yup.” He
pulled up a chair beside my lounge chair, flipped it backwards, and
straddled it. No invitation needed. “Aren’t you bored?”
“No, not really.”
Truth be told, I was dying of boredom. I wasn’t used to being by
myself. I hated it. So why didn’t I admit it? Just for once, I
wanted to have the upper hand with him.
“I think we
should get out of here.”
“And go where?
“It’s my turn
to teach you something.” He grinned. My heart clunked in my chest.
“What?” I tried
to keep my composure.
“Surfing. You
can’t be a real island girl unless you know how to surf.”
“Okay.” It did
sound fun, I admit it. Actually surfing sounded pretty bad ass and I
was excited to try it. But a part of me was disappointed that he
just meant surfing.
I kept my voice
steady. “What do I need to bring?”
“Just you…and a
towel, I guess. Unless you have a board, which I doubt.”
“Nope. Do you
have an extra?”
“No. We can
share.”
How was that going
to work? I folded my towel and shoved it into my bag. I went back
in the house for my sandals and keys. After I got into Tristan’s
jeep, I realized I probably should have left a note saying where I
was going. Chances of anyone getting home before me were pretty
slim. I almost went back, but I didn’t want him to think I was
more of a little kid than he already thought.
“So you’re
really going to try this?” Tristan asked as he pulled on to the
main road, his GPS leading the way.
“Why would I be
going if I wasn’t going to try it?”
“I don’t know,
I didn’t know if you’d wuss out.”
“How hard can it
be?”
He laughed. “I
like you. You march to the beat of your own drummer.”
“Are you calling
me a freak?” I tried to laugh it off, but I was really a little
worried.
“No, Callie. It
was a compliment. You’re not afraid to do your own thing.” He
paused while he waited for traffic to clear for a left turn. “Why,
do people say you’re a freak?”
I swallowed,
feeling a bit self conscious, and twisted my fingers in my lap.
“Well, kind of—I mean, I’m home schooled, and my mom hates
anything normal.”
“Taryn and I are
homeschooled, sort of. We have tutors on set. Normal is over
rated.”
I relaxed when he
said that. “What’s that like, being on a movie set?”
“Honestly, it’s
kind of boring. You wind up spending most of your day in a trailer
in the middle of nowhere. Then if you go to set, they do the same
thing over and over again. You have to be quiet and still. It goes
on forever.”
“Oh. I thought
it would be so exciting.”
“It’s cool to
go to some of the locations. If my dad has a day off, he’ll take
us around so we can check things out, but other than that, it’s
pretty dull.”
We pulled up to the
parking attendant and Tristan paid for parking. I felt a little
guilty that I didn’t bring any money to chip in, but then I thought
back to the other day when he wouldn’t take his tips.
Once we got out of
the car, Tristan pulled his surfboard from the back of the jeep. It
seemed more formidable than I expected. It was longer than I was
tall and it had some weight to it. I started to doubt how well I was
going to do at this, but after being challenged not to be a wuss, I
couldn’t possibly back out.
The beach was
surprisingly quiet for such a beautiful afternoon. Visitors dotted
the sand only in the distance. Thankfully, my inevitable eating of
ocean water wouldn’t be witnessed by a crowd.
Tristan stopped
where the sand was still powdery. The tide never came up this high.
He dropped the board in front of him and looked at me. “You
ready?”
“I’m not going
to get any more ready.” What had I gotten myself into?
“All right, stand
on the board.”
“Here?” I was
so confused.
He looked around
like he was lost. “This is a beach, right?”
“Yeah, but the
water is over there,” I said, pointing at the ocean.
“You’re not
ready for water yet. Trust me.”
I rolled my eyes
and stood on the board, feeling stupid. It rocked back and forth
under my feet and I had to steady myself to keep from falling over.
Great. I couldn’t even surf on sand.
“See why I
started you here? Not so easy, right? What you want to do is position
your feet sideways, use your back foot for balance…okay, use your
arms to balance the top of your body…”
I swayed back and
forth on the board and Tristan grabbed me by the waist to steady me.
“Move your feet like mine are.” He stood with his feet spread
apart as he instructed me. I mimicked his stance. It was hard to
concentrate on anything but the feel of his hands on my stomach. “Use
your arms. Don’t be shy. No one is watching you.”
Determined, I
looked up from his feet and steadied myself with my arms. Once
Tristan was satisfied I wasn’t going to take a header off the
board, he let go of my waist. I was almost tempted to lose my
balance again. I could still feel the heat from his hands on my
skin.
“So that’s your
main stance. Let’s go to the water.”
“That’s it? You
expect me to be able to surf now?”
“For that.
Follow me.”
He picked up the
board and headed to the water. It didn’t make sense for me not to
follow. Tristan walked straight in to the surf and stopped when he
got hip deep. The water temperature could still be described as
shocking, and I did my best not to cry out as I joined him.
“I’m going to
hold the board, and I want you to lay on it, on your stomach.” It
was a bit of a struggle to get on the board, as the water was much
deeper for me. He moved in a few steps to accommodate my shortness.
“Now paddle.”
“Like a dog?”
“Like a surfer.
Paddling is how you get out to the waves.”
I practiced the
motion, with my head up, as he instructed. He was still holding onto
the board, in case I got washed out to sea I guess. It felt weird not
to go anywhere.
“Okay, now try to
stand up.”
“Are you kidding
me?” How was I ever going to do that?
“No. You surf
standing up.”
I braced myself,
thinking of the best and most graceful way to get into a standing
position. I placed my hands under my shoulders and my knees under my
hips.
If surfing on sand
was hard, doing it in actual water was nearly impossible. I toppled
off the board in an uncoordinated heap right on top of Tristan. I
knocked us both under water. He was laughing as he came up, shaking
the water from his hair. He pulled me up above the waves and close
to him as I caught my breath.
“You look so exotic,” Tristan still had his hands on my arms, and
his face was closer to mine than it had ever been.
I sighed, looking
down at the water.
“Look at me,
Callie.” He paused until my eyes met his. “I keep trying to pay
you a compliment, and you keep taking it the wrong way. Why does it
bother you so much to not be like everyone else?? They’re boring.
You’re not boring.”
I didn’t have an
answer for him. I don’t know how long we stood there, eyes locked,
with the waves gently crashing against us.
He continued since
I couldn’t. “And you don’t mind getting your hair wet.” He
pulled me back down into the surf.
Coming up for air,
I pushed my wet hair out of my face. “It’s a lost cause,
anyway.”
“There you go
again. Stop it. Guys hate that. Or at least I hate it when a girl
is constantly down on herself.” Again he was staring at me.
“Your board is
floating away.” It was a stupid thing to say at that moment, but I
wanted to change the subject away from me, and if he didn’t get the
board soon, it would never be seen again.
“Oh.” Tristan
dove in the waves and swam after the board. I watched his shoulders,
slick and shiny with salt water, work against the tide.
“I think we
should head back,” he announced when he returned from the board. I
didn’t want to go but I knew he was right.
We didn’t say
much as we headed back. I wasn’t sure how I felt about the
afternoon. Making a fool out of myself was frustrating. I couldn’t
even stand up on the board. Tristan was just maddening. I could
never quite get anything right when he was around.
I looked over at
him, singing softly along with the radio as he drove. “I had fun,”
the words sounded thin cutting through the awkward silence. We were
almost home.
“I did, too.”
Tristan answered in stride. “We’ll have to do another lesson
soon.”
“I’m not a lost
cause when it comes to surfing?” I asked and he glared at me.
“Sorry.”
“It’s not
easy. It takes a couple of times to get the hang of it.”
“Good. I don’t
want to feel like a—” He gave me that look again as he pulled
into his aunt’s driveway. “Never mind.”
“Never mind is
right.” He winked at me. “See you tomorrow?”
“Bright and
early.”
Again we looked at
each other for too long, doing nothing. Without saying anything
else, I opened the door and got out. I looked back as I reached the
path that lead me home. Tristan was sitting in the driver’s seat,
watching me go.
Excerpt
“Meet me in my
aunt’s driveway tonight,” Tristan whispered into my ear just
before we left work for the day. His warm breath tickled my skin.
“When?”
“Later on. Like
midnight.” He raised his eyebrows at the suggestion.
I stared at him
open mouthed, not sure I understood what he said. “How is that
going to work?”
“You’re a smart
girl, you’ll figure it out.” Tristan squeezed my hand before he
walked away.
I had a hard time
concentrating on my routine for the rest of the afternoon and
evening. How was I going to pull this off? Was I going to be able
to sneak out when I shared a room with someone? I toyed with the
idea of telling Keisha about Tristan’s proposal, but I decided
against it.
Since I was useless
anyway, I went to bed early. Or so everyone thought. I laid awake,
watching the clock. It was so hard not to drift off to sleep. I
couldn’t set my alarm, I’d wake Keisha. At 11:30, when I was
satisfied Keisha was down for the count, I quietly slipped out of
bed, washed the sleep from my face, got dressed, and began my
journey.
Every floorboard
creaked as I crossed the living room. At first I took slow
deliberate steps, but I felt like that only amplified the noise, so I
changed my pace to a quick tip toe. The kitchen door caught in the
jam, swollen with humidity. I pulled as hard as I could to free it,
jerking back with its force when it opened. I had to close it just
as hard. In my nervousness, the forgotten screen door slammed door
behind me on the porch. I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing I must be
caught for sure. I was relieved to find that my actions seemed to
have gone unnoticed. I tip toed gingerly down the stairs of the deck
and sprinted towards Tristan’s house. I slowed up my pace when the
driveway came into sight. Running the whole way would have been
nothing short of pathetic.
Tristan sat on the
rear bumper of his jeep, throwing his keys up in the air and catching
them. I don’t think he heard me approach. I sat down next to him
and he jumped. Finally, I caught him off guard. I laughed as he
fumbled on the dark ground for his keys.
“You made it. I
wasn’t sure if you’d do it or not.”
“You thought I’d
chicken out?” He wasn’t the only one.
“Kinda.”
“You were wrong.”
My eyes were adjusting to the light, and I met his in challenge.
All this defiance made me brave.
“Let’s go for a
walk,” he suggested.
“Where to?”
“I don’t know.
You’re the one who lives here.”
“Well I usually
don’t wander around in the middle of the night. But I guess we can
go down by the beach.”
He took my hand and
we set down the rocky road that led to the ocean without saying much
of anything until we reached the sand. The only sound was the waves
lapping against the shore. And my heart thundering in my chest.
“You can see so
many of the stars out here.” Tristan declared, looking skyward in
appreciation.
“How is that
different than usual?”
“The city lights
are too bright, they don’t stand out as much. It’s just so
peaceful to look up at them all. See, there’s the Big Dipper.”
He pointed skyward.
I nodded. “Can
you see Orion’s Belt in it?”
“I can.”
Tristan sat down on
one of the rocks that formed a breakwater. I climbed up next to him.
I felt small next to him, with my legs dangling off the giant rock
and the sky so huge above us.
“I’m having a
really good time here this summer.” His arm made its way loosely
around my waist.
“I am, too.”
“I’m going to
hate going back to California.”
My heart twinged in
my chest. I knew all along the day was coming soon when the twins
would leave the island and normal life would resume, but not thinking
about it made it less real.
“Maybe you don’t
have to go,” I offered, softly.
He pulled me in
closer to him and sighed. “I do. What am I going to do here?”
He was right, but I
hated it. I hated myself for thinking I’d be enough to make him
stay. It wasn’t like he was even my boyfriend. “You’re right.”
“What do you want
to do, Callie?”
“What do you
mean?” I pulled away from him nervously, heart pounding even
harder.
“About
everything. What do you want your life to be like?”
I knotted my
fingers in my lap as I thought about his question. “I don’t
know. This is my life.”
“There’s a
whole world out there, you know. But it is nice here. It’s
simple. No drama. “
I tried not to feel
simple myself. “What’s California like?”
Tristan leaned back
on his hands and looked up at the sky. “Right now it’s a hot
mess. My parents hate each other. They’re trying to work things
out, but I know they’re going to split. That’s why we got shipped
here.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.
Honestly, it’s probably better. They’re always fighting, and
using me and Taryn to get back at each other.”
“That’s awful.”
“Whatever. The
peace and quiet is nice.” He pulled me back in. “And I like
hanging out with you. It’s nice to hang out with a girl who
doesn’t want anything from me.”
“What do you
mean?” I wasn’t offended, just genuinely confused.
“I’m sick of
all these chicks, sorry, girls, who just want me to buy them things,
or want to be with me because of who my parents are. But you aren’t
like that.”
“No.” Who knew
I was getting it right?
“It’s a nice
change.”
“So what do you
want to do?” I asked.
“About what?”
His eyes burned into mine, only visible by the light of the moon
reflecting off the ocean.
My breath caught in
my throat. “Same thing. Everything.”
He sighed.
“Honestly, I don’t have a clue. I could probably act, but I
don’t want to do it just because my father does it. I’d love to
have a band.”
“Why don’t
you?”
“I don’t know.
I never thought I was any good, but being here, my head’s been so
clear. I’ve even worked on some songs.” He said the last part
quietly. The way he said it, I was pretty sure I was the only one
who knew anything about this.
“I’d love to
hear them sometime.”
“I don’t know.
They’re probably crap.”
“You always tell
me not to be down on myself, and here you are, doing the same thing.”
“I know,” He
leaned in, so his face was very close to mine. “I know what I want
to do right now.”
“What?” I
could barely speak.
“Kiss you.” He
leaned in closer, his lips grazing mine.
I panicked and
pulled away.
“What’s the
matter?” Tristan seemed alarmed.
“I don’t know
what to do.”
I couldn’t see
it, but I could feel his smile. He ran his thumb softly along my jaw
line, his fingers snaking into my hair. “You’re doing just fine.
Just relax.”
That seemed
impossible. “Okay.”
His lips parted
mine gently. I simply followed Tristan’s lead, mimicking his
actions as I curled my fingers around his arms. He slowly nipped my
upper and lower lip, almost teasing me, before unwinding his fingers
from my hair, sliding his hands down to my waist, and pulling me up
into his lap, against his chest. I could feel his heart thundering in
unison with mine. I moved my hands up into his hair, pulling him
close to me as he placed his lips over mine.
I don’t know how
long we stayed there, locked together like that. One of us would
pull away, just enough to breathe, and then be drawn right back in.
Finally, Tristan slid me down off of his lap. I could feel the chill
immediately being separated from his body. If I looked at him at
that moment, we’d be right back where we started, so I looked up at
the stars. They were even more beautiful than I ever remembered them
being.
Everything was so
right, with just us sitting out here, no noise but the lapping of the
waves and the beating of my heart.
“I have to get
you back,” Tristan’s voice was husky.
The sky had
brightened. I prayed it was just lights from the town and not
sunrise. No one in my house waited for the sun to be up to get out
of bed. I needed to be safely back in bed before anyone’s feet hit
the floorboards for the day.
We started to make
our way through the sand, and back to the rocky road that led back to
Beach Plum Lane. We held hands, not leaving enough space for one
another.
I wasn’t ready to
part ways when we reached my porch. I don’t think Tristan was
either, he took my hands and pulled me close to him.
“Thank you,” I
whispered.
“For what?”
“Tonight.”
He shook his head
against my forehead. “No,” he said, just as softly. “Thank
you. For everything, Callie. I mean it.”
I looked up at him,
puzzled, but didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure what to say.
“Will you be my
date at the President’s party?”
“Of course.”
He squeezed my
hands and leaned in for one last kiss. I could feel his smile
against my lips. “Sweet dreams, Callie.”
CH 1
My bike skidded
into the alley beside the café. I knew I was late. I leaned it up
against the building, pulled my damp braid away from my neck, and
fanned out my shirt.
“Where have you
been, Callie? Your shift starts at nine. No excuses. I’m not
going to treat you differently than anyone else on the staff. It
sets a bad example.” My mom was rolling out dough on the table.
There was flour on her apron and in her hair. It had obviously been a
busy morning. She barely looked up from her work as she acknowledged
me.
I looked at the
clock on the wall. 9:15. “Sorry.” I mumbled as I grabbed my
apron. “Where do you want me today?”
Mom sighed, pausing
for a minute to think strategy. “Barista station.”
Not so bad. I
figured she’d give me something I hated to punish me for being
late. My mom ran a tight ship. The Magnolia Café was her dream in
action and she wasn’t about to let anyone, including me, screw it
up. But I loved making the coffee. It was what we were known for. I
liked helping the island wake up. The regular faces became more
recognizable each day.
This was my first
summer as an official employee. I’d worked behind the scenes for
years. I was thrilled to be old enough to be a real part of the
team. Even if it I was working for my mom, I wanted to make a good
impression.
“Guess what? I
met the twins.”
“What are you
talking about?”
“Caroline’s
niece and nephew. Taryn and Tristan.” We rented the guest house
on Caroline’s sprawling property. I’d been hearing stories about
Caroline’s family my whole life. Her sister was a model, married
to a movie star. Did it get any more glamorous than that?
“Oh.” Recall
was written all over her face. My mother found Caroline’s family
less impressive than I did. We didn’t even have a TV in the house,
that’s how much she cared about Hollywood. “Were their parents
there as well?”
“I don’t know.
I just saw the twins.”
“Did Caroline say
anything about the party?”
“What party?”
I had no idea what my mother was talking about.
“Never mind. She
wouldn’t say anything to you, anyway.” I felt like a little kid
for the second time this morning.
I headed out front
to relieve Olga, the early morning barista. Keisha, my cousin, was
tidying up behind the counter and restocking the muffins and bagels.
She came every summer from Jamaica to work with us at the Magnolia.
“What’s going
on, girl? You’re late.” She hip checked me playfully as I
walked passed her to the coffee station.
“So I hear. Good
morning to you, too.”
“Ha! You were
fired, you know.”
“Yeah I’m
sure.” Where else was my mother going to find such willing, well
trained, underpaid labor?
“You missed the
hot Australian dude. That man can eat his croissant in my bed any
day….”
I giggled and
swatted at Keisha. “Oh! That reminds me. I met the twins.”
“What twins?”
Apparently I was
the only person who was excited about this. I was starting to feel a
little foolish telling everyone so enthusiastically about my meeting.
“Caroline’s niece and nephew. Tristan and Taryn. From
California.”
“Oooooh, the
movie star kids.” Now I had Keisha’s attention.
“Yes.”
“Tell me all
about them.”
“I don’t know,
it was quick. We didn’t say much. But Tristan is really good
looking.”
“Oh yeah? How
old are they?”
“Gosh, I don’t
know…Caroline said they weren’t much older than me, but they
looked like they were about twenty five.”
“All those famous
people have botox and nose jobs and boob jobs…did the girl have a
boob job?”
“I didn’t know
I was supposed to check out her chest for you.”
“God, I’d love
a boob job. Instead I got a big ass. So how good looking are you
talking?”
I blushed a little
bit as I started making a nonfat caramel latte for Janis, one of the
regulars. “Really good looking. Like I didn’t know it was
possible to be that good looking.”
I could still feel
where Tristan squeezed my hand while he looked me right in the eyes,
making my knees knock. I could still smell the spiciness of his
cologne.
“He must be gay
then.” I was a little mortified by that. I shot a quick look at
Janis, who was smirking at our conversation. I added her extra
whipped cream before she even asked.
“What?”
“Anyone from
California who’s that good looking has got to be gay, girl. Get
used to it.”
“How many people
have you met from California?”
“None. But I
know. I read Perez Hilton.”
Who? “Is he on
NPR? Because that’s all I ever get to listen to and you know it.”
My mom ran a tight ship at home too. We didn’t have cable and I got
homeschooled. My pop culture knowledge was embarrassingly
nonexistent.
“Oh yeah, I
forgot I was back in the stone ages for a minute.” Keisha rolled
her eyes. “I’m just saying, that’s how it is.”
It was just easier
to agree with her. “Whatever. He didn’t seem gay. Not like I’d
know if he was anyway. But I don’t think so.”
“I guess between
the two of us, we’ll find out, right?”
The Wild West is hard enough to survive with its native territory, wanted outlaws, and harsh terrain, but with a plague turning civilized people into brain-eating monsters, survival becomes nearly impossible.
Red has lost everything to the fast-spreading disease: her family, her trust in mankind, and her hope for a better tomorrow. When she meets Trace, a smooth-talking gambling man who’s more city boy than cowboy, she’s forced down a path she’d been avoiding for years. Until his arrival, she’d lived by a certain set of rules—don’t ask names, keep to yourself, don’t let anyone too close—but the jackass of a man won’t let her be, and he has an uncanny knack for appearing at all the wrong times and in all the wrong places.
Each, with a secret of their own, will need to learn that only by working together do they have any chance of surviving The Zombie West.
That is, if they don’t kill each other first.
[Angela Scott’s Zombie West Omnibus includes the three books in the Zombie West series WANTED: DEAR OR UNDEAD, SURVIVOR ROUNDUP, and DEAD PLAINS. Find these books on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iTunes, Kobo, and Smashwords.]
Genre classification: YA/Western Romance/Action and Adventure/ with added zombies for utter mayhem.
Angela Scott hears voices. Tiny fictional people sit on her shoulders and whisper their stories in her ear. Instead of medicating herself, she decided to pick up a pen, write down everything those voices tell me, and turn it into a book. She’s not crazy. She’s an author. For the most part, she writes contemporary Young Adult novels. However, through a writing exercise that spiraled out of control, she found herself writing about zombies terrorizing the Wild Wild West–and loving it. Her zombies don’t sparkle, and they definitely don’t cuddle. At least, she wouldn’t suggest it. She lives on the benches of the beautiful Wasatch Mountains with two lovely children, one teenager, and a very patient husband. She graduated from Utah State University with a B.A. degree in English, not because of her love for the written word, but because it was the only major that didn’t require math. She can’t spell, and grammar is her arch nemesis. But they gave her the degree, and there are no take backs.
Find Angela Scott on her website, Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.
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