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Title: Unwanted
Author: Alivia Anders
Genre: NA Dystopian
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Book Description:
She would be his freedom.
He would be her price.
In a world overrun with people and
narrowing resources, the basis of life has turned to do or die. No longer does
the balance of wealth and power apply. A strict split between the rich and poor
has made the lines clear- the more money you have, the more power you control.
For seventeen year old Emily Beucant,
life is an equal gift and curse. Having grown up pre- Unwanted society, she can
still remember the days it was okay to play with children from the other side
of the concrete wall, back when her father was still alive, and back when the
Unwanted program was used to Mark and hunt criminals, not sign away the lives
of ungrateful children or spouses with high insurance collections over their
heads.
But since her father's creation of the
program, the government has taken control and made it into a lucrative monster.
And as Emily is days away from her eighteenth birthday, and handsome
inheritance, she will soon see just how badly it is to be Marked.
When her soulless aunt places Emily up to
be Marked an Unwanted, she is forced to go on the run from all she has ever
known. No where is safe for her, and no one will protect her, least they wish
to have the same fate as her. It isn't until she forms a tense, explosive
alliance with a former doctor, Ben, that it looks like the tables may turn in
her favor. Together they race against those searching for her, desperate to
find a way to free her from an early death. But is it too late?
No one is safe.
No one is free.
Teaser
The time on my phone flashes 4:09AM by the time I come within sight of the first glimpses of Primrose Gardens. It’s nearly identical to Greener Lanes; a carefully monitored entryway was the only real way in, as the land was secured in a fence at least twenty feet high. Of course, like all high property, the maintenance of areas like the bottom of fences was generally overlooked, and were easily broken into by stray animals.
Or fugitive eighteen year olds.
I double-check no cameras are positioned
on the outside of the fence, then carefully navigate around it. My hands and
fingers brush through dewy ferns and pines, the cold droplets a welcomed relief
to my grime-coated fingers.
At the corner of the first half, I spot
an opening. It’s small, roughly the size of a skinny barrel, and pieces of
rotting wood have been shoved in front of it in a weak attempt to conceal it. I
wiggle them free with little effort, check the other side for any pesky
animals, and slip in.
The backyard is empty, nothing but
freshly mown green grass to both corners of the enclosed yard. Inwardly I sigh
with huge relief. Nothing in the backyard means there’s almost no chance of the
house having dogs or kids.
I sprint up to the house and press myself
into the siding, peering over the corner inside. Sunlight beams over the hedges
and fencing, shining streaks of yellow into the wide floor-to-ceiling windows
backing most of the house. There’s no lights on, and nothing casually abandoned
or out of place. Maybe the place is abandoned.
Pressing my luck, I try the handle to the
sliding glass doors. It’s unlocked. I hold my breath and pop the door open a
pinch. When no alarms sound, I can barely contain my jittery hands from
smacking the windows with glee like some over-sugared toddler who found out the
square shape goes in the square-shaped hole.
I step inside and quickly shut the door
behind me, careful not to make too much noise. Even with the sunlight streaking
through the glass, I can’t see too much, but I figure it’s best not to turn on
the lights just in case.
The kitchen reminds me eerily of home.
Modern, glass and black metal fixtures create a desensitized atmosphere, devoid
of emotion and memory. No fruit in a bowl on the counter, no washcloths hanging
on the bar to the oven, no magnets on the fridge. Whoever does live here,
doesn’t seem to be really living.
Two slim envelopes sit on the far counter
near the entrance to what looks like a dining room. I inch closer and squint,
trying to make out the name on the label.
The sound of a door upstairs stops me
cold.
I spin about the room, frantic. A place
to hide, a place to hide... the kitchen sink cabinet.
The cabinet was small, barely built to
hold the pipes for the sink. Tiny bottles of cleaner, rags, scrubbing brushes,
and several wrenches were piled in a corner, eating up any extra space I could
fit into. This was most likely the only moment I would ever be thankful for my
recent years of near-death starvation movements at my aunt’s hand.
I was told once that when you adrenaline
hits, everything slows to a crawl. At the time, Dad had used the
words heightened senses, joking that for a blink in our
lives, we became superhuman.
For my sake, I hope he was right. If the
owner of the house found me, it would be either fight or flight. And I was
counting on the former.
My fingers silently grasp for one of the
wrenches, and I tense, going quiet and still.
Footsteps sound on the linoleum tiles. A
chair is pulled from the dining room table, and a sound of something heavy
dropped on the table.
I dare not breathe. My heart races faster
than helicopter blades slicing through the cloudy skies on an emergency rescue.
Pressure builds in my ears and chest, my throat squeezing until I can barely
gather a thread of air.
Seconds tick by, painfully slow. The
nervous tick in my chest shifts to my feet, the fight flickering within. It
crosses my mind that if I move swiftly, I could catch the owner off guard,
burst from the cabinet doors and run for the fence.
Outside the cabinet doors, there’s
nothing but silence. No feet, no mutters, not even a grunt. All I can be sure
of is my heart, slamming erratically against my chest, pulsing faster with
every passing moment.
The cabinet door flies open.
A hand reaches in, grasping onto my upper
arm. I try to swing the wrench but there’s no room in the cupboard. In one move
I’m yanked out and tossed onto the tiled floor, and greeted by a blackened
barrel of a gun holding true to my face.
I know better than to scream for help.
Instead I scramble with haste, rolling over and finding myself on my feet.
My eyes focus, and I meet with the owner
of the gun hovering in front of my nose. Sharp, dark green eyes stare holes
into me, but his expression is glacial, reserved. Instantly I’m reminded of
Matthew, and how I’d handle his past dealers who would try and stiff him. Like
a lion lying in wait, poised and in control, I’d wait until they left a sliver
of their guard down and attack the first weak spot available.
But this isn’t a drug deal gone wrong,
and Matthew is not here. This is real life, and I’m staring down a loaded
weapon poised to blow my face all over the wall. If I give this man a fraction
of a weak spot, he will use it and exploit it.
I refuse to give this man a weak spot.
He jerks his head to the cabinet doors,
the short brown hair on his head bristling with motion.
“You have exactly ten seconds to give me
one good reason not to empty my gun into your thieving frame.”
Surprise crosses my face, but I mask it
as quickly as it slips. Could he possibly not know who I am? That I’m Marked
and as good as dead?
I say nothing. His eyes narrow, as if he
can see right through me and learn all my dirty secrets. I try not to visibly
flinch.
He motions his free hand to the chair
that’s been pulled from the table in the adjacent room. Our eyes stay locked
and unblinking, neither moving.
“Why don’t you hand me the wrench, and
take a seat?”
My lips stay sealed. I run over the
options in my head, each more bizarre and unlikely than the last. Each one ends
with me getting a bullet lodged into some part of my body, and I really don’t
like the idea of becoming swiss cheese.
He sighs disappointingly. “Unless you
prefer that I call the police?” His free hand now reaches into his pocket,
cellphone ready to dial on his touchscreen.
If I wasn’t shaking before, I am now. My
body shudders so hard I drop the wrench, the sound the smack against the floor
so loud I yelp.
The willful voice in my mind resurfaces,
screaming. Run! Attack him, take the gun from him and
go! But the brazen drive fades as quickly as it comes, and I haven’t
made a move. Confusion swings in my head. Part of me still clings to the past I
ripped myself from. The truth that I am no longer Emily Beucant, socialite of
Camardine, daughter of the man who established the Unwanted program, continues
to sink it, startling me with each passing tick of the clock.
I am now Emily, fugitive of the law,
outcast of all areas of society, Marked an Unwanted and fighting a system my
own blood created.
Unwanted. Unloved. Undesired.
“No one,” I say, ignoring the crack in my
voice. “Is going to take me alive, Unwanted or not. You may as well shoot me.”
The man lowered the gun by a fraction,
tilting it to the side. His eyes darkened as if he would explode with rage, but
he spoke as if confused.
“I’m not going to... hold on,” he zeroed
in on my face, taking in my blonde tresses. “You can’t be that girl...”
I did my best to stand rigid and tall,
envisioning a plank of wood for motivation. It offered little help for my
intimidating factor.
Okay, so he knew. His eyes couldn’t hide
the connection behind them, same way Matthew couldn’t hide his traitor
behavior. Where did that leave me?
I was going to find out.
“Do it,” I make the words harsh, hot like
scalding water. “Shoot me. You have every right.”
The frown on his lips deepens, and he
lowers the gun by another inch.
Then, just like that, he flips the gun’s
safety on and tucks it into the side of his black pants. A new wave of emotion,
raw and frightened, rolls over me. Is he going to turn me in?
“Are you hungry?”
His words catch me off guard. Until he
asked, I hadn’t so much as given a passing thought to food. My stomach gnawed
and groaned.
“What, no-?”
He stares at me suspiciously. “You look
like you weigh twenty pounds soaking wet. Might want to refuel if you plan on trying
to break into any more houses.”
I couldn’t help it. “Are you seriously
asking the person who just broke into your home if they
want breakfast?”
“Are you going to take breakfast from the
only person who’s offered it to you?” He counters, scowling.
“I’m not-”
“Breakfast or the police. Your choice.”
What the actual hell was going on? I
crossed my arms and made a face.
“Fine.”
He motions to the dining room one more
time, the grand gesture like salt rubbing in the wounds. Looking over my
shoulder, I carefully walk past him, crossing into the next room and sitting on
the pulled out chair.
A basket is placed on the table, muffin tops
poking out from the thin cloth covering the top. I peel back the cloth and
sneak a peek between keeping my eyes on the man.
“Blueberry.”
“Do you not eat blueberry muffins?” His
mouth turns up at the corners, fighting a snicker.
“Actually,” I begin, pushing the basket
away. “I’m allergic.”
He pushes off the doorframe, moving for
the fridge. “I have orange-cranberry, too.”
“I’m not hungry.”
He sighs with irritability, and runs his
hands over the top of his head. “You’re either incredibly stupid or stubborn.”
That gets a rise out of me. “Talk to my
aunt, and she’d tell you I’m both.”
“My guess is stubborn with a side of
stupid, if what I saw earlier was any indication,” he jabs at me, eyes turning
to their glacial stare. “You’ve got some nerve, some seriously huge cojones,
thinking you could break into a place like this. Let me guess, you thought you
were so lucky. No one spots you at the fence, the door’s are unlocked and place
immaculate.”
“You have no ide-”
“I spotted you clear as day from the
second floor, little girl. You hadn’t even finished moving those planks I
shoved over the gaping hole. If I spotted you that fast, imagine how quickly
the cameras on the other side got a look at your face.”
I went weak in the knees. “But I didn’t
see-”
“Damn right you didn’t see, you were too
busy enjoying the win of your little conquest. Tell me, what was your plan
after you got inside, huh? Take the car, look for jewels to pawn, murder a
family if they spotted you and reported to the Unwanted call line-”
“It wasn’t supposed to
happen!”
I’m on my feet, but don’t remember
standing. Flashes of my hands, white-knuckled as they grip the edge of the
table, dance at the bottom of my line of sight.
His green gaze is unforgiving. “Is that
what you were planning to say if you were caught? ‘I’m sorry, sir, it wasn’t
supposed to happen’?”
“Is breakfast a codeword for lecture?
Because I really, really don’t want any breakfast. Now or never.” I make to
leave, but he stands in the way. My fists clench tight, and I relax my arms in
case I need to power-fist my way through him.
“Move.”
“Answer me one question,” he says coolly.
I can’t believe the nerve of this taunting jerk. In less than ten minutes, I’ve
gone from fugitive to captive, all because my stupid instincts said to go to a
place familiar to home.
I can’t look him in the face, so I turn
my head down to the ground. “Ask.”
His words are like a thin thread of
breath on my neck, a cold breeze that makes me shudder from the chill.
“What was your plan?”
To save Matthew. To kill Christine. To
run long enough for someone to reverse my Unwanted status.
“I have to fix it,” the words barely
leave my lips, the truth a burning declaration I hadn’t known existed even in
the deepest pockets of my mind. “I have to stop it before someone else ends up
in my shoes. Marked while innocent, captured while terrified, slain without
cause.”
I tilt my head up slowly, coming within
inches of his face. Waves of green swallow me, and for a second I swear I’m
caught in the tide in his eyes, ready to be pitched into the waters, lost to
the sea.
“I have to end the Unwanted
program.”
Giveaway
About Alivia Anders
ALIVIA ANDERS is the author of the Amazon
bestselling Illumine Series. Born and raised in PA, she fell headfirst into the
world of writing at thirteen with the discovery of internet fan-fiction and
RPG-forum boards. A lover of chinchillas, mexican food, and coffee, she spends
most of her time drumming up new ideas to spin into tales to enchant readers
everywhere.
You can find out more about Alivia, and
her upcoming projects, by visiting her Facebook or Blogger.
Books Available by Alivia Anders:
The Illumine Series:
Illumine (Book #1)
Obumbrate (Book #2)
Riven (Book #3)
Ethereal (Book #3.5, releases March 2013)
Other Series By Alivia Anders:
The Black Symphony Saga Novellas:
An Ice Princess Heart (Novella #1,
releases 2013)
An Ice Princess Kiss (Novella #2,
releases 2013)
An Ice Princess Symphony (Novella #3,
releases 2013)
An Ice Princess Dream (Novella #4,
releases 2013)
The Black Symphony Saga:
A Shard of Ice (Book #1, releases April
2014)
A Brush of Fire (Book #2, releases
January 2015)
A Breath of Life (Book #3, releases
December 2015)
Links
Purchase on Amazon
Purchase on B&N
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