Welcome to the blog tour for ROAD TO EUGENICA, the first book in the young adult science fiction romance series, Eugenica Chronicles, by A.M. Rose. See below for information on the book, buy links, an exclusive excerpt, and details on her giveaway.
About The Book
Title: ROAD TO EUGENICA
Series: Eugenica Chronicles #1
Author: A.M. Rose
Publisher: Entangled Teen
Genre: Young Adult Science Fiction Romance
Release Date: February 5, 2018
Links: Goodreads | Amazon | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo
Two dimensions – And the girl who connects them.
Yesterday, Drea Smith couldn’t do anything spectacular—even walking and texting at the same time was a challenge. But today, she suddenly has more answers than Google, can speak and understand numerous languages, and she can fight. Like a boss.
Drea has no idea where her encyclopedic knowledge has come from, but she’ll take it when she discovers someone out there knows her secret and wants her badly. And that they’ve been searching for her since she was born.
Since she was created.
With the help of her best friend Dylan, who just wants to keep her safe, and Maddox, a mysterious new boy who is prepared to get her answers, Drea will have to push her new skills to their limit as she uncovers nothing is quite what it seems.
As she uncovers…Eugenica.
A young girl marches out of one of the houses up the hillside on my right, and onto a porch. Her gaze floats across the very cluster of trees I’m standing in. I take a nervous step back deeper into them to make sure she can’t see me. My feet crunch through something—a dead plant. The grass to my left has met the same fate, and is brown and lifeless. That’s strange. It looks so out of place. How is this part dead when everything else around it is so green, so alive?
A dull ache develops in my head, but I don’t focus on it. Instead, I watch the girl. She sings a little song, and a shudder runs through me. It seems silly to be afraid. She’s so small, and I’m too far to catch all the words, but it’s something about the stars. Her hair’s so blonde it appears almost white as it cascades over her shoulders and down the back of her gray jumpsuit. The moonlight reflects against a symbol over her heart, but I can’t make out what it is. And my eyes force themselves closed when I try to get a better look.
My knees start to shake as she swipes her hand in the air, and what looks like a computer screen appears in front of her. Just like what happened to the man in my dream. The girl gazes up to the sky and back to her screen while flipping through pages of star charts. Finally, she seems satisfied and uses her finger to draw connecting lines between the stars on the chart, Andromeda. Then with a wave of her hand she moves her drawing above her head toward the sky. I follow her actions and see the same constellation she’s looking at above us.
Wow. That’s incredible.
I need to find Dylan and Maddox. I need to tell them—show them this place. With them here, I wouldn’t feel so scared. They’re never going to believe it. I barely believe it, and it’s right in front of me. But it’s here, and so am I.
Before I can move, a man with the same stark white hair, wearing a black jumpsuit, walks out of the house behind the little girl. “What did you discover?” His voice is so refined, each word spoken so clearly, but it still makes my skin crawl. I take a step back. He turns in my direction. My heart jumps into my throat, and I suck in a mouthful of air. Even hidden in the trees I feel vulnerable, exposed.
“Probably an intoxicated Stultusian tripped the Entry System Sensor. They could not have gotten too far,” a man’s rough voice says to my left and there’s a sharp pain in my temples.
Two figures down to the left march up the hill. I crouch lower to the ground and duck behind a bush to stay out of their view. Up to my right, the white-haired man ushers the little girl back in the house and the light inside goes dark.
The two men stop less than ten feet from me where the dense brush I’m hiding in starts. One man is much broader than the other. Both are wearing black jumpsuits, and their heavy boots thud against the ground with each step. My heart pounds against my chest just as loud, if not louder. I clench my hands against it to drown out the sound and stumble back farther to hide behind one of the trees.
“Has this portal to Stultus always been here?” the smaller man asks. His voice is deeper, huskier.
“Yes, and only a few Eugenicans know about it. You will learn about the other portals when you complete training.” They both stop walking, and the bigger guy presses something that looks like computer buttons on his sleeve that light up under his touch.
My head aches, or more like burns. Whatever these guys are talking about makes my brain feel like it’s being run against a cheese grater.
“What protocol do we follow?” The other man pulls out a flashlight and shines it in the brush. The light dances in front of me, slowly crawling my way.
I’m paralyzed by fear. They’re less than ten feet away; even if I could move, I don’t know where I’d go. I don’t even know where I am, or how I got here.
“Order 2-31-D.” He glances up from his sleeve to the other man. “Recite.”
The man clips his light onto his holster belt, pushes his shoulders back, and clicks his heels together. “We subdue the subject and administer one to three cc’s of Serum Memoriata to the internee’s biceps. After which, we immediately extricate.”
“Excellent. Now let us get to work.”
They each pull out a flashlight and push their way through the brush, in my direction. My head throbs so hard I have to clench my jaw to keep from screaming out, or worse, throwing up.
They push closer and closer.
This is it. I’m dead.
About the Author
A.M. Rose is the author of Road to Eugenica, and writer of young adult novels of all genres as long as they have a hint of romance, the drinker of too much coffee (with way too much coconut creamer), and lover of all carbohydrates.
Currently, she lives in Houston, TX with her three boys (yes, her husband is in that count) and three cats. When she isn’t writing about swoony boys or ways for her MC to get into trouble, she is an avid reader, critiquer, (is that even a word?) and trampoline enthusiast.
A.M. Rose is a graduate from San Diego State University with a BA in Communication and a minor in underwater basket weaving. (Okay, maybe not the basket weaving part.).
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