My favorite thing over all were the characters. I love when I can relate to any characters. This story was so close to people that I know, it was scary. I really really REALLY hope you read this! This is a must read.
Danger seldom leaves its victims unscathed in the ways of seduction, and this lesson is one that sixteen-year-old Cassie Foster now knows all too well.
Nine months following the traumatic accident that claimed the life of her mother and sister, this high school junior has at last found a fresh start in the quiet town of New Haven, Maine. In the company of her best friends, Ian and Gwen, she’s bracing the usual turmoil of adolescence and taking all in stride… until the new transfer student, Jackson Matthews, comes walking into her life. He’s arrogant, sarcastic, roguish, devastatingly sexy, and the very last thing Cassie wants to entertain. But when circumstances drive these two together, she finds herself a bit too close for comfort as their bond intensifies. Plagued by unexplainable events, a sudden string of disappearances, and even a cult-related murder, Cassie begins to fear for her life. Is it all just a coincidence that these happenings began when this Casanova strolled into town, or has she in fact fallen for a real lady-killer, or worse?”
“Class, please help me in welcoming our newest student to New Haven High, Jackson Matthews,” announced Miss Tipton.
“Hi,” everyone replied in unison as if they were greeting someone at an A.A. meeting.
I covered my mouth to hide the laughter that began rising to the surface.
“As if that salutation wasn’t uncomfortable enough first hour,” the stranger replied with a spark of humor.
The comment was enough to catch my attention, so I surrendered my eyes to the front of the room. There he stood just over six feet tall, lean yet muscular, dressed all in faded shades of black from his t-shirt, fitted jeans, motorcycle boots, and leather jacket. His penetratingly sharp, icy blue serpentine eyes were all the more accentuated by lashes as long and dark as a cow’s. Obnoxiously perfect bed-head black locks of hair laid tousled across his forehead, framing a striking face saved for the glossy pages of magazines.
He was guaranteed to be egotistical and vain, as shallow as a kiddy pool, and right up Stacy’s alley. Staring at someone like him should have come with an indication sign, like “COULD CAUSE RETINA DAMAGE!” or “NEVER GONNA SEE ANY BETTER THIS SIDE OF YOUR TELEVISION SCREEN!” at least. In other words, I dropped any delusional notion that I had a chance with him the very second I refocused my attention back to my textbook. That was that. Thank God. The last thing I needed in my life was a distraction, especially one of overly perfect, um... proportions.
“You can take a seat in front of Miss Foster, right over there in the front corner,” said Miss Tipton.
True solace for this Chicagoland native is no further than a minute's walk away from her, right to the keyboard. Having always been blessed/cursed with an overactive imagination, she's constantly encouraging her predisposition with late night writing fits fueled by her mild Dr. Pepper addiction. A connoisseur of music, movies, and literature, Melissa is always finding inspiration in everything around her. When she's not diving into the depths of her mind's eye, you will undoubtedly find her with a book, a camera, her iPod, or a can of Dr. Pepper in hand.