ARC Review: You Won't Believe Me by Cyn Balog

Willow is alone, confined to a bed with restraints. She can't remember how she got there...or how long she's been there.

An old lady appears in her room to feed her twice a day. Granny doesn't talk, but Willow can hear thumping from somewhere beyond her door. It's not Granny's shuffling steps. It's too loud to be Granny's cat. Is it someone? Something?

Then Granny's cat dies in Willow's room. And Granny follows a few days later. Willow will do anything to survive. But freeing herself from her bed is only the beginning... Because there is someone else in the house. Who is this mysterious teen who calls himself Elijah? And is he the reason she's hostage or the key to her escape?

Title: You Won't Believe Me
Author: Cyn Balog

Publisher: Sourcebooks Fire
Expected Publication Date: 6/27/23

Review:

Thank you to NetGalley and Sourcebooks Fire for providing me with an eARC of this book to read and give an honest review.

I enjoy Cyn's books. I've been reading her stories for quite a few years and I find she has a knack for the unbelievable and mysterious. Thrown in a little thriller and you have a recipe for great stories.

Unfortunately, this particular book of hers missed the mark for me. I really wanted to love it. And I will say the story had some good scenes, but mostly I was bored and I figured out the main part of what was happening early on.

Willow's character was done well. She is the epitome of a victim who desperately believes what she's being told. No doubt, in such a strenuous and crazy situation, this may happen to anyone. Especially with the gaslighting that was going on from Elijah. I don't want to get into their relationship too much as I don't want to ruin the story for others but suffice it to say, he is not who he appears to be.

There were times when the thrill of the booked pushed me along, and other times when the world building had me bored and wishing something, anything would happen.

The introduction of the weird flip at the end did nothing for me. It seemed like it was thrown in so the ending could leave you wondering but mostly it was just an odd thing to have in the story after 90% of the story consisted of something different. Maybe it was to make Elijiah look really crazy. Maybe it was to put total doubt in Willow's mind. And then the scene in the movie theater was very far out there.

I do love the cover and the way "lie" is highlighted.

Overall, I did not love this book as much as I would have liked. I am sad to have not enjoyed one of Balog's stories as I know she's had some really great ones. 

Her fans may or may not enjoy this one from her. Hard to say.

Cyn Balog is a normal, everyday Jersey Girl who always believed magical things can happen to us when we least expect them. She is author of young adult paranormals FAIRY TALE (2009), SLEEPLESS(2010), STARSTRUCK (2011), TOUCHED (2012), and her most recent release: DEAD RIVER (2013).e. She lives outside Allentown, Pennsylvania with her husband and daughters.

She also writes under the pen name Nichola Reilly. Nichola Reilly is Cyn Balog's post-apocalyptic fantasy-writing alter-ego. The first book in her series, DROWNED, will be releasing from Harlequin TEEN sometime in 2014, followed by a sequel, BURIED, in 2015.

 

ARC Review: Alone by Cyn Balog

When her mom inherits an old, crumbling mansion, Seda’s almost excited to spend the summer there. The grounds are beautiful and it’s fun to explore the sprawling house with its creepy rooms and secret passages. Except now her mom wants to renovate, rather than sell the estate—which means they're not going back to the city…or Seda's friends and school. 

As the days grow shorter, Seda is filled with dread. They’re about to be cut off from the outside world, and she’s not sure she can handle the solitude or the darkness it brings out in her.

Then a group of teens get stranded near the mansion during a blizzard. Seda has no choice but to offer them shelter, even though she knows danger lurks in the dilapidated mansion—and in herself. And as the snow continues to fall, what Seda fears most is about to become her reality… 

Brooke's Review:

I like a good scary story that doesn't leave me unable to go to sleep! This is that story.
The setting, an old hotel where murder mysteries used to play out. A snow storm that keeps anyone from going anywhere. A mother with a great imagination. All put together to form an intense and fun story.
If you like The Shining, but you don't like your books too scary, this is perfect for you. 
The characters are fun. The scenes are well thought out. The suspense is just the right amount of scary versus not wanting to shut the book because you can't bear to read it.
I will say, I figured out things about the mystery a bit early on, but that didn't keep me from reading on to see if I was right! 
Overall, a fun and suspenseful read!

Cyn Balog is a normal, everyday Jersey Girl who always believed magical things can happen to us when we least expect them. She is author of young adult paranormals FAIRY TALE (2009), SLEEPLESS(2010), STARSTRUCK (2011), TOUCHED (2012), and her most recent release: DEAD RIVER (2013).e. She lives outside Allentown, Pennsylvania with her husband and daughters.

She also writes under the pen name Nichola Reilly. Nichola Reilly is Cyn Balog's post-apocalyptic fantasy-writing alter-ego. The first book in her series, DROWNED, will be releasing from Harlequin TEEN sometime in 2014, followed by a sequel, BURIED, in 2015.

Blog Tour: Alone by Cyn Balog @cynbalog

Alone

By Cyn Balog

Sourcebooks Fire

November 7, 2017

Advance Praise for Alone

“Even careful readers will be caught off guard by twists and unexpected but divine surprises. This first-rate thriller delivers everything a thriller should, and adds more. With a wink and a nod to Stephen King’s The Shining, Balog provides a shocker for the young adult crowd.” –VOYA Magazine, VOYA Perfect 10 Review

“This is the perfect premise for a chilling tale, and Balog fills every inch with classic horror references, red herrings, and uncertain motivations. As Balog gradually builds tension and paranoia, she manipulates reader expectations to set up several possible endings, yet still manages to end with a shocker. This is fantastically creepy psychological horror.” –Booklist

"A bloody, wonderfully creepy scare ride." –Kirkus Reviews

Goodreads Link:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/33918889-alone?ac=1&from_search=true

Book Info:

This must-read for lovers of Stephen King's The Shining will leave readers breathless as Seda and her family find themselves at the mercy of a murderer in an isolated and snowbound hotel.

When her mom inherits an old, crumbling mansion, Seda's almost excited to spend the summer there. The grounds are beautiful and it's fun to explore the sprawling house with its creepy rooms and secret passages. Except now her mom wants to renovate, rather than sell the estate—which means they're not going back to the city...or Seda's friends and school.

As the days grow shorter, Seda is filled with dread. They're about to be cut off from the outside world, and she's not sure she can handle the solitude or the darkness it brings out in her.

Then a group of teens get stranded near the mansion during a blizzard. Seda has no choice but to offer them shelter, even though she knows danger lurks in the dilapidated mansion—and in herself. And as the snow continues to fall, what Seda fears most is about to become her reality...

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Excerpt from Alone:

      Sometimes I dream I am drowning.

Sometimes I dream of bloated faces, bobbing on the surface of misty waters.

And then I wake up, often screaming, heart racing, hands clenching fistfuls of my sheets.

I’m in my bed at the top of Bug House. The murky daylight casts dull prisms from my snow globes onto the attic floor. My mom started collecting those pretty winter scenes for me when I was a baby. I gaze at them, lined neatly on the shelf in front of my window. My first order of business every day is hoping they’ll give me a trace of the joy they did when I was a kid.

But either they don’t work that way anymore, or I don’t.

Who am I kidding? It’s definitely me.

I’m insane. Batshit. Nuttier than a fruitcake. Of course, that’s not an official diagnosis. The official word from Dr. Batton, whose swank Copley Square office I visited only once when I was ten, was that I was bright and intelligent and a wonderful young person. He said it’s normal for kids to have imaginary playmates.

But it gets a little sketchy when that young person grows up, and her imaginary friend decides to move in and make himself comfortable.

Not that anyone knows about that. No, these days, I’m good about keeping up appearances.

My second order of business each day is hoping that he won’t leak into my head. That maybe I can go back to being a normal sixteen--year--old girl.

But he always comes.

He’s a part of me, after all. And he’s been coming more and more, invading my thoughts. Of course I’m here, stupid.

Sawyer. His voice in my mind is so loud that it drowns out the moaning and creaking of the walls around me.

“Seda, honey?” my mother calls cheerily. She shifts her weight on the bottom step, making the house creak more. “Up and at ’em, buckaroo!”

I force my brother’s taunts away and call down the spiral staircase, “I am up.” My short temper is because of him, but it ends up directed at her.

She doesn’t notice though. My mother has only one mood now: ecstatically happy. She says it’s the air up here, which always has her taking big, deep, monster breaths as if she’s trying to inhale the entire world into her lungs. But maybe it’s because this is her element; after all, she made a profession out of her love for all things horror. Or maybe she really is better off without my dad, as she always claims she is.

I hear her whistling “My Darlin’ Clementine” as her slippered feet happily scuffle off toward the kitchen. I put on the first clothing I find in my drawer—-sweatpants and my mom’s old Boston College sweatshirt—-then scrape my hair into a ponytail on the top of my head as I look around the room. Mannequin body parts and other macabre props are stored up here. It’s been my bedroom for only a month. I slept in the nursery with the A and Z twins when we first got here because they were afraid of ghosts and our creepy old house. But maybe they—-like Mom—-are getting used to this place?

The thought makes me shudder. I like my attic room because of the privacy. Plus, it’s the only room that isn’t ice cold, since all the heat rises up to me. But I don’t like much else about this old prison of a mansion.

One of the props, Silly Sally, is sitting in the rocker by the door as I leave. She’d be perfect for the ladies’ department at Macy’s if it weren’t for the gaping chest wound in her frilly pink blouse. “I hate you,” I tell her, batting at the other mannequin body parts descending from the rafters like some odd canopy. She smiles as if the feeling is mutual. I give her a kick on the way out.

Despite the morbid stories about this place, I don’t ever worry about ghosts. After all, I have Sawyer, and he is worse.

As I climb down the stairs, listening to the kids chattering in the nursery, I notice the money, accompanied by a slip of paper, on the banister’s square newel post. The car keys sit atop the pile. Before I can ask, Mom calls, “I need you to go to the store for us. OK, Seda, my little kumquat?”

I blink, startled, and it’s not because of the stupid nickname. I don’t have a license, just a learner’s permit. My mom had me driving all over the place when we first came here, but that was back then. Back when this was a simple two--week jaunt to get an old house she’d inherited ready for sale. There wasn’t another car in sight, so she figured, why not? She’s all about giving us kids experiences, about making sure we aren’t slaves to our iPhones, like so many of my friends back home. My mother’s always marching to her own drummer, general consensus be damned, usually to my horror. But back then, I had that thrilling, invincible, first--days--of--summer--vacation feeling that made anything seemed possible. Too bad that was short lived.

We’ve been nestled at Bug House like hermits for months. Well, that’s not totally true. Mom has made weekly trips down the mountain, alone, to get the mail and a gallon of milk and make phone calls to civilization. We were supposed to go back to Boston before school started, but that time came and went, and there’s no way we’re getting off this mountain before the first snow.

Snow.

I peer out the window. The first dainty flakes are falling from the sky.

Snow. Oh God. Snow.

Cyn Balog is the author of a number of young adult novels. She lives outside Allentown, Pennsylvania with her husband and daughters. Visit her online at www.cynbalog.com.

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Blog Tour: Unnatural Deeds by Cyn Balog @cynbalog

 

Title: UNNATURAL DEEDS

Author: Cyn Balog

Pub. Date: November 1, 2016

Publisher: Sourcebooks Fire

Pages: 288

Formats: Hardcover, eBook

Find it: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, iBooks, Goodreads

Secrets. Obsession. Murder. Victoria is about to discover just how dangerous it can be to lose yourself.

Victoria Zell doesn’t fit in, but she’s okay with that. All she needs is the company of her equally oddball boyfriend, Andrew. She doesn’t care what anyone else thinks…until magnetic, charming, mysterious Z comes into her life, and she starts lying to everyone she knows in an effort to unravel his secrets.

And then something terrible happens. Someone is dead and it’s time for Victoria to come clean. Interspersed with news clippings and police interviews, Victoria tells her story to Andrew, revealing her dark, horrible secrets…secrets that have finally come back to haunt her.

Today I'm super excited to welcome Cyn to the blog for an interview. Check out what she has to say when I ask her my questions!

Did you always know you wanted to be a writer or did you want to be something else? 

Yes! I wrote my first book when I was 5. When I learned to read books, I figured the next logical step was learning to write them. No one told me otherwise for a long time.

How long does it take you to write a book from start to finish?

Depends on the book! I can sometimes write a book in a month. Other times, it may be 5 months.

How do you come up with themes for your stories?

I always focus on a theme that is universal, or that is a little mysterious to me. The topic of obsession was of interest to me because everyone gets that way at some time during their lives, and it’s so powerful.

Do you have a schedule of when you write? 

No, since I work full-time, I usually try to grab time in the evenings or weekends. Totally up in the air!!

 What was the hardest thing about writing a book?

It’s not coming up with the idea, that’s for sure. I have so many ideas and titles in my head, I wish I could write fast enough to do them all. The hardest thing is getting it all to come together. Sometimes it’s a little like putting together a puzzle or making a recipe—I’ll take this character idea I came up with and put her in this setting with this scenario and let’s see what happens. Not all of those will be the basis for a good book. Usually, it’s when I get to the middle that I see whether it will sink or swim. Sometimes I have to go back to the drawing board, or add another ingredient like a pinch of a subplot or a different character, to get through that murky middle.

How many books have you written so far? Do you have a favorite? 

UNNATURAL DEEDS is my 7^th traditionally published books, though I’ve ghostwritten a lot of books, too. I can’t say any of them are my favorites, not because they’re all my babies or anything. Once I finish writing a book and editing it, I don’t read them again. So I honestly can barely remember my first book, Fairy Tale.

Do you have a favorite character?

I loved writing Z., because he’s such a narcissistic little a-hole that’s an amalgam of every other overconfident popular guy I knew while I was growing up.  You know, the type that struts into a room and thinks everyone wants to know his life story, just because he exists.

When deciding on how to publish, what directed you to the route you took? 

I knew I wanted to publish traditionally because, well, way back in 2007 when I was looking for a home for my book, self-publishing wasn’t a thing! So my crit partner actually got me in touch with my agent, who didn’t sell my first book, but was able to sell my second one, Fairy Tale.

Have you gotten feedback from family about your book(s)? What do they think?

I think for the most part, they like them. But of course the one thing that stands out to me is when I asked if my mom liked Dead River, and she was like, “No.”  A million people can say they love it, but that’s what I remember!  Why do we always tend to hang onto the bad reviews FOREVER?

What kinds of advice would you give to someone who wants to start writing? 

Practice makes perfect. As with anything worthwhile, success won’t happen right away. Don’t give up.

Are you working on anything now? 

Yes, I just sold my 8^th book to Sourcebooks. It’s called Solitude and it was pitched as The Shining for teens. It’s funny, because I was actually in Colorado, visiting The Stanley Hotel, which was the inspiration to Stephen King for his book, when I got the news that it was going to be published.

If you could travel anywhere in the world to visit a place so you could use it as a background for a book, where would it be?

Italy! But so far I haven’t been able to come up with a story line for that! I think I need to get working on that….

Thanks so much for being here today, Cyn. I cannot wait to read your new book!

About Cyn:

Cyn Balog is the author of the young adult paranormal novels FAIRY TALE, SLEEPLESS, STARSTRUCK, TOUCHED, DEAD RIVER, and UNNATURAL DEEDS. She lives outside Allentown, Pennsylvania with her husband and daughters. Visit her online at www.cynbalog.com.

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Tour Schedule:

Week One:

10/24/2016- Bibliobibuli YA- Interview

10/25/2016- Curling Up With A Good Book- Excerpt

10/26/2016- Wandering Bark Books- Spotlight

10/27/2016- BookHounds YA- Excerpt

10/28/2016- Fiction Fare- Interview

Week Two:

10/31/2016- Wanderlust & Books- Spotlight

11/1/2016- Literary Meanderings- Guest Post

11/2/2016- With Love for Books- Guest Post

11/3/2016- The Cover Contessa- Interview

11/4/2016- YA Book Madness- Excerpt

Waiting on Wednesday #113: Unnatural Deeds by Cyn Balog @cynbalog @SourcebooksFire

Waiting on Wednesday is a weekly meme hosted by Jill from Breaking the Spine that spotlights upcoming releases we are eagerly awaiting!


Title: Unnatural Deeds
Author: Cyn Balog
Publisher: Sourcebooks Fire
Expected Publication Date: November 1, 2016

Blurb:
Secrets. Obsession. Murder. Victoria is about to discover just how dangerous it can be to lose yourself.

Victoria Zell doesn’t fit in, but she’s okay with that. All she needs is the company of her equally oddball boyfriend, Andrew. She doesn’t care what anyone else thinks…until magnetic, charming, mysterious Z comes into her life, and she starts lying to everyone she knows in an effort to unravel his secrets.

And then something terrible happens. Someone is dead and it’s time for Victoria to come clean. Interspersed with news clippings and police interviews, Victoria tells her story to Andrew, revealing her dark, horrible secrets…secrets that have finally come back to haunt her.

Cyn Balog is a normal, everyday Jersey Girl who always believed magical things can happen to us when we least expect them. She is author of young adult paranormals FAIRY TALE (2009), SLEEPLESS(2010), STARSTRUCK (2011), TOUCHED (2012), and her most recent release: DEAD RIVER (2013).e. She lives outside Allentown, Pennsylvania with her husband and daughters.

She also writes under the pen name Nichola Reilly. Nichola Reilly is Cyn Balog's post-apocalyptic fantasy-writing alter-ego. The first book in her series, DROWNED, will be releasing from Harlequin TEEN sometime in 2014, followed by a sequel, BURIED, in 2015.

Blog Tour: Drowned (Drowned #1) by Nichola Riley @cynbalog @HarlequinTEEN @ladyreaderstuf

Title: DROWNED Author: Nichola Reilly Release Date: June 24, 2014 Pages: 304 Find it: Amazon || Goodreads Genre: Fiction | YA | Fantasy

Coe is one of the few remaining teenagers on the island of Tides. Deformed and weak, she is constantly reminded that in a world where dry land dwindles at every high tide, she is not welcome. The only bright spot in her harsh and difficult life is the strong, capable Tiam—but love has long ago been forgotten by her society. The only priority is survival. Until the day their King falls ill, leaving no male heir to take his place. Unrest grows, and for reasons Coe cannot comprehend, she is invited into the privileged circle of royal aides. She soon learns that the dying royal is keeping a secret that will change their world forever. Is there an escape from the horrific nightmare that their island home has become? Coe must race to find the answers and save the people she cares about, before their world and everything they know is lost to the waters. 

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The Cover Contessa's Review:

I was sent this book early by the author to read and give an honest review. Receiving the book for free has in no way altered my opinion or review.

I was drawn to this book as soon as I saw the cover. I had no idea what it was about, but I knew I would have to read it just based on that. It's quite breathtaking and really captures the mood of the story once you read and understand the elements that are presented.

I'm a big fan of dystopia. I love how authors can shape their worlds from what they know and make it into something totally different and unique. Reilly certainly does this with her world. Who would have though of a world that is almost always covered by water with a population that is constantly trying to avoid it to stay alive? It's a unique idea that will definitely drew me in.

Coe is the MC of the story. When I first started reading, I couldn't quite make out how old she was. I knew this was a YA book, but age ranges tend to be broad with this genre depending on the maturity level of the character. Turns out she was much older than I originally thought. I expected her to be more mature for her age, but she didn't come across that way to me. Overall I liked her character. She has many great qualities: she's kind, caring, and above all loyal. All qualities that are important in a story such as this. She did possess some of the teen angst we tend to see in YA. It did not put me off, which was a plus because sometimes such angst makes me want to cringe. I think it was just the right amount. And I loved that Reilly made the character a bit self-loathing. It went along with the total devastation of the world in which she was living. I also loved the touch of the disability (which I won't disclose as it's better if you read it for yourself). Coe has had to adjust so she can stay 'afloat' in her world. It made the character much more real for me.

I liked Tiam's character but in all honesty can not picture him in my head. I would have liked a bit more description of how he looked. I do like how protective he is over Coe. You get the feeling that he would put himself on the line for her life no matter what. Partly because her father asked him too and partly because that's just the kind of guy he is. I did get the feeling that he was a bit taken with himself, thinking he was better than others (though I don't know if this what the author intended). Coe tells us he's handsome and strong, and that everyone likes him. But when it comes down to it, it seems he's not as loved as she had once thought. 

The secondary characters certainly were also very interesting. The princess with her tower and her fancy clothing. The King who rules over all the people is questionable. And those who were asked by Coe's father to watch over her turn out to be more enemy than friend. It makes for a great mix of personalities and interesting interactions with the characters.

I really enjoyed Nichola's writing. It's easy to read and flows nicely. She has a good way with description for the most part, although I do think her descriptions of some of her characters could have been better. But I can picture the world in my head, surrounded by water that continuously rises and recedes with the tide. The world building is interesting. I will say that I would love a bit more background, although I understand that it is part of the mystery the author is trying to build. I can totally picture a world taken over by water because of climate change. It addresses something key in our current society, which makes it more realistic, as if it could happen tomorrow so we need to be prepared.

The book was certainly a page turner for me (as noted by the fact that I finished it in three days with all those interruptions of life). I didn't find myself bored. I will say that Rielly addressed certain things more than once and it made me feel like I was going in circles at times. As if the main character just could not break out of her rut to get to the nitty gritty of what she needed to learn. I like to have an idea of what's really going on in a book by about half way through, but that didn't happen for me until about three quarters of the way through and then I felt like the ending was a bit rushed because of it. I was also taken aback by the fantastical element that is introduced. While I kind of had a feeling something like it might happen, when it did, it really wasn't addressed well in my opinion. I feel like it should have been more of a big deal, and that emotion did not come across to me (from either the main character or the secondary ones who knew/found out). I like that it was included, I just wish there was more information and character realization centered on it when it did.

Overall the story is filled with action, emotion, romance, and fear. I am definitely intrigued to see where Rielly takes the next book, especially with how this one ended. I think readers of Kagawa and Meadows will like this post-apocolyptic fantastical world.

I write things on the sand so I won't forget them. Things I like. Darkness. Dreams. Clam. Buck Kettlefish. Things I want. A warm dry place. A long night of sound sleep. I watch the waves come and erase the words from the shore. Erased from existence. From possibility. It's almost as if the waves are taunting me. For thousands of tides I am sure people thought about how and when the world would end. Maybe they wondered whether it would happen while they were alive, or if their children, grandchildren, or maybe even their great-greatgreat-great-grandchildren would be the unlucky ones to be there when the world crashed down around them. But I don't have to wonder. I know it is going to happen soon, and maybe in my lifetime. Every morning I wonder if I will see the sunset. Every breeze is like death breathing down my back. The sun burns like fire among black smokelike clouds on the horizon, making my eyes squint and burn. High tide is approaching, the waves slowly coming closer. With every breath, every heartbeat, they rise a little more. Soon almost everything will be underwater. I stand and shake the sand out of my mat, then roll it up and affix it to my knapsack. I've gotten pretty good at doing all these things one-handed. My clothes are wet, and my lips taste like salt. I'm not sure why I'm yawning because I had a pretty good spell of sleep. Nearly half a tide. Half a tide where, at least in my mind, I was somewhere warm and dry, somewhere that didn't smell like crap or rotting fish. I plod along with the others, away from the steadily rising waters. It's chilly but at least my tunic is only slightly damp; it doesn't stick to my skin. Nothing is ever dry here. It's either sopping wet or damp, and damp is a blessing. It's time once again for formation. We all know the tides. We must, or we'd pay for our ignorance with our lives. It's time for all of us, all 496 of us, to trudge to the platform that stands maybe sixty of my feet above the ground, at the center of the island. At least, at last total, there were 496 of us. I don't like to count because our numbers are constantly falling. We all know this, which is probably why nobody looks at or speaks to anyone else. Better not to get too familiar. When someone disappears, we all assume the worst. Because the worst is usual. The only person who does look at me is Mutter. His face is dark and leathery, and his beard is scraggly and foul, greenish-gray, filled with old, dead things. He has his own scribbler scars, but at least he has all his limbs. He is useful. He sneers at me, disgusted. "Waste of space," he hisses as I find my spot on the platform. "Scribbler Bait." I wipe away the sand with my bare foot. The number two is scratched there. Number two is my spot, for now. It's near the dry center of the circular formation, where things are safer. There are 496 circles arranged around it, spiraling out from the center. The circles are small; there's barely enough room to stand. There used to be thousands of circles, one for every person on the island. But the only thing constant about the island we call Tides is change. Children get the central spots. When I reach my sixteenth Soft Season, when I am an adult, I will be given a new spot based on the importance of the job I am given. Mutter is right, though. I don't have any special skills, and my deformity makes it difficult for me to pull in the nets or do the things fishermen do. I'd barely make a good scavenger, the lowest of the low. People call them Scribbler Bait. "I saw a scribbler on the platform last night," Xilia whispers to no one in particular. She is a scavenger, too, and quite mad. But many of those who occupy spaces on the outer edge of the formation are crazy, because they brush with death every time the tide comes in. And nobody can deny that the scribblers have been getting braver. That's not the name we always had for them. When I was young they were called spearfish, because they'd often spear fishermen as they brought in the nets. But then they started coming onto the sand when the tides receded, sunning themselves. They'll attack us on land, ripping through our flesh with their spear-shaped noses, then feasting on our blood. They're getting smarter, too, because after a while they began burrowing under the sand, hiding from us, and springing out whenever a human came too close. They make long, winding paths in the sand with their sinewy black bodies—like scribbles, my father had said. My father started calling them scribblers, and everyone followed him, as they usually did. I've never seen a scribbler on the platform before. The thought makes me shudder. The platform, however small and inadequate, is our safety. But I know our safety is eroding. It has always been so. A thousand tides ago, the platform was twice the size it is now at high tide. There was room for twice as many people. Now we are under five hundred. I know this because there are fewer than five hundred spaces. The largest number that's still visible, though it is nearly half eaten by the tides, is 496. At least, that was the number the last time I had the energy to look. I sigh and throw my things down on my spot. The spot is so comfortable and familiar to me that I feel as if the imprint on the stone conforms perfectly to my feet. Sweat drips from my chin. My eyes sting from the glare reflecting off the white concrete. Little Fern, who is seven, comes hopscotching up to space number one, scrawny as a sprig of seaweed, two white-blond braids framing her sweet smile. She has a little stick in her hand, something she's never without. When she steps next to me, she touches the stick to my elbow. "Your wish is granted," she says with great flourish. If only. If only the stories I told her about fairies were true. There are so many things to wish for. I was space number one until Fern turned five, when we all moved over a space to make room for her. Before then, she occupied the same spot as her mother, who was a fisherman before she died many tides ago. They used to give mothers spaces in the center of the formation when they had children, but then things became so dire that some women had babies just to get a better spot. I was told Tiam's mother had, and my mother had, though I can't remember ever squeezing next to her on her spot. Two babies in a season was a virtual baby boom. So they put an end to that practice after I was born. Now nobody has children. It just means more people. And there are already too many people. After all, when a baby is born, it just means that when that child turns five, we'll all have to move one space to the left. The person at the very end of the spiral is out of luck. Space is something people have been known to kill for. I'm grateful for Fern, though. She is the only one who still smiles at me. As for the others, we are not friends. We do not trust or like anyone, even our own family members—if we have any of them left, and most of us don't. We all know what is coming, and we've all lost enough to know that caring for another person doesn't make things easier. Which means I have a big problem. "Hey, Coe." Just like part of the formation washes away in every tide, part of me is lost every time I hear his voice. "Hi, Tiam," I say, staring at the sandy ground. Looking up at him, at those liquid sapphire eyes, will just make the pain worse. Besides, I already have every inch of his face memorized. Him? If I hadn't been required to assume the space next to him for the past ten thousand tides, if there weren't slightly under five hundred of us, I doubt he'd know my name. Fern waves her wand some more, granting wishes to the air. I wonder how obvious it is that most of the wishes I have in my head involve Tiam. It's not that I want to wish about him. It just happens. Tiam drops his stuff in space number three. For as long as I can remember, he has been beside me. When I was young he used to hold my hand to keep me from being scared. He is never scared. I move as far away from him as I possibly can, which isn't far enough. The spaces are only maybe two of my feet in diameter, so now that we are older, we rub shoulders. Even though I try to wash up every day in a tide pool, I know he can smell me. I have the luck of having the job that makes me reek a hundred times worse than the normal, forgettable stench that most of us carry. Mine seems to bury itself deep under my skin. No matter how much I bathe, it never completely goes away. If he does smell me, though, he never lets on. In twenty tides or so he will reach adulthood, and I'm sure he will have a good spot in the formation. A spot for the most valuable people. He is smart enough to be a medic, strong enough to be a builder, brave enough to be an explorer. He is everything I am not. Tiam always comes to the formation at the last moment. I think it's his way of laughing at nature, while the rest of us cower before it. He says, to no one in particular, "So, what is the news?" I know that isn't directed at me. I spend most of my free time alone, so I don't ever hear any news. But formation is the time to catch up on the latest gossip. Burbur, in space four, who is one of the most respected royal servants, says that she heard the king coughing in his sleep while making her normal rounds in the palace. Tiam raises an eyebrow, and everyone murmurs, "Ah, really?" Finn, a fisherman, whispers that the food brought in during this morning's harvest was "pitiful," and people shake their heads and say, "Is that so?" This goes on for a moment as I wonder whether or not to submit the only piece of information I have gleaned in the past hundred tides. Finally I clear my throat. Tiam and ...

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Nichola Reilly is Cyn Balog’s post-apocalyptic fantasy-writing alter-ego.  The first book in her series, DROWNED, will be releasing from Harlequin TEEN sometime in 2014, followed by a sequel, BURIED, in 2015.

About Cyn Balog: Cyn Balog is a normal, everyday Jersey Girl who always believed magical things can happen to us when we least expect them.  She is author of young adult paranormal novels; FAIRY TALE (2009), SLEEPLESS (2010), STARSTRUCK (2011), TOUCHED (2012), and her most recent release: DEAD RIVER (2013).e.  She lives outside Allentown, Pennsylvania with her husband and daughters.She also writes under the pen name Nichola Reilly.  Nichola Reilly is Cyn Balog’s post-apocalyptic fantasy-writing alter-ego. The first book in her series, DROWNED, will be releasing from Harlequin TEEN sometime in 2014, followed by a sequel, BURIED, in 2015.

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