Meridian

by Kizer, Amber

• ISBN13: 9780385736695
• ISBN10: 038573669X
• Edition: Reprint
• Format: Trade Paper
• Copyright: 2010-08-24
• Publisher: Delacorte Press

Summary

Half-human, half-angel, Meridian Sozu has a dark responsibility. Sixteen-year-old Meridian has been surrounded by death ever since she can remember. As a child, insects, mice, and salamanders would burrow into her bedclothes and die. At her elementary school, she was blamed for a classmate's tragic accident. And on her sixteenth birthday, a car crashes in front of her family homeand Meridian's body explodes in pain. Before she can fully recover, Meridian is told that she's a danger to her family and hustled off to her great-aunt's house in Revelation, Colorado. It's there that she learns that she is a Fenestrathe half-angel, half-human link between the living and the dead. But Meridian and her sworn protector and love, Tens, face great danger from the Aternocti, a band of dark forces who capture vulnerable souls on the brink of death and cause chaos. From the Hardcover edition.

Author Biography

Amber Kizer is not one of those authors who wrote complete books at the age of three and always knew she wanted to be a writer. She merely enjoyed reading until a health challenge forced her to start living outside the box. She lives in the Seattle area on a veritable Noah’s Ark—without the big boat and only some of the rain. For more information about Amber, check out www.amberkizer.com.


From the Hardcover edition.

Excerpts

C HAPTER 1

I got up the morning of December twenty-first anticipating a four-day weekend for the Christmas holiday. I went to a snotty private prep school that took breaks the way most people went to the dentist—?only when they really, really had to.

Which was why I had school on the twenty-first, my sixteenth birthday. My parents refused to let me skip. It was a typical, normal day. For me “normal” meant that my stomach churned so much I swallowed Tums by the roll, and never went anywhere without Advil. I used Visine to keep my eyes clear; without it, looking in the mirror meant seeing the eyes of a lifetime alcoholic. I kept a stash of Ace bandages and braces in my locker at school.

I coped. I studied. I kept up the facade, but I desperately needed a break. Time to sleep late. Time to eat too much and catch up on painting my nails with glitter. Time to stop faking it and be myself, even if no one noticed. Time to dye my hair again—currently it was the obnoxious red of tomato juice. I figured black would be a nice way to start the New Year. It fit my mood. There were also a bunch of new DVDs I wanted to watch. Movies about girls my age having crushes and friends and being absolutely, completely normal.

I tucked my requisite white cotton blouse into my perfectly pleated tartan skirt. I applied thick black eyeliner and three coats of mascara, as if I could make the bruises beneath my eyes an accessory, then painted on clear lip gloss. I tugged at the opaque tights I wore, pushing our dress code to the limit. I didn’t mind uniforms. At least I was part of a group for once in my life. But I hated looking like a little Lolita. I stared at my reflection, hoping to see answers. Wishing I saw the solution to my life.

The phone shrilled: once, twice. I tossed my toothbrush into the sink and grabbed the hallway extension. The phone never rang for me, but I always answered it, hoping.

“Hello?”

Silence. Breathing. Murmuring.

“Hello?” I repeated.

Mom appeared at the top of the stairs. “Who is it?” Concern deepened the lines on her face, aging her.

I shrugged at her, shook my head. “Hello?”

She yanked the phone cord out of the wall, breathing fast, suddenly wild-eyed and pale.

Dad raced up the stairs, clearly just as upset. “Another one?”

Mom’s fist clenched the cord and she fiercely wrenched me into her arms. What the hell?

“What’s going on?” I let her hold me as she caught her breath. My dad kept petting my hair. For the last five years, they hadn’t touched me except for accidents or unavoidables. Now they didn’t seem to want to let go.

“It’s started.” Dad was the first to step away.

“What’s started?” I pushed away as the downstairs phone rang.

“We’ll talk more after school. You have a big test today.” I recognized the stubborn expression on Mom’s face.

Dad pressed her shoulders, rubbed her neck like he always did when she was upset. “I think we should—”

“No, not yet. Not yet,” Mom chanted.

“What is going on?” I felt fear sizzle in my spine.

“Rosie?—” Dad cradled Mom’s cheek with one hand and reached for me.

“After school,” Mom said firmly. “Be careful today, extra careful.”

“Why don’t you tell me why?” I asked. “Is this about turning sixteen? I can wait to get my license for a few months. I mean, I’d like to drive, but if you’re this scared we can talk about it.”

Mom smoothed my hair, shaking her head. “After school.”

I shrugged and looked to my father for guidance. His expression told me he wouldn’t break rank. “Is it boys? I

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Excerpted from Meridian by Amber Kizer
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.