Monday, June 27, 2016

Welcome to Sortilege Falls by Libby Heily , blog tour

Welcome to Sortilege Falls
Libby Heily
Genre: YA Magical Mystery
Release Date: June 12th 2016
Fire & Ice Young Adult Books

Summary from Goodreads:
Sixteen-year-old Grape Merriweather has just moved to Sortilege Falls and already she knows something isn't right. A small pack of teenage models, too beautiful for words, holds the town in their sway. The models have no plans on making Grape's life easy. But no matter how cruel they are to Grape and the other “Normals”, no one can stay angry with them for long.

Grape's life changes for the better, or so she thinks, when Mandy, the only “nice” model, befriends her. But that’s when the trouble truly begins. Mandy's friendship places Grape smack in the middle of a medical mystery that has the entire town on edge. One by one, the models fall ill from an incurable disease. Grape quickly realizes that the models' parents are hiding a secret, even as they watch their children die. To save her only friend, Grape will have to find the truth–and that means putting her life in danger.

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Grape Meets the Models:

       Grape’s entire body stiffened as she looked up from her phone. Five of the most beautiful people to ever walk the earth stood scattered around two Porsches. Did I walk into a photo shoot?
“I mean, gross.”
The words came from an impossibly beautiful girl. Loose, raven-black locks fell over her shoulders, the tips lingering above her full bosom. Grape could almost hear the sizzle and static of her electric blue eyes. The sun had kissed the girl’s skin lightly, leaving a glow that made the air around her shimmer. Her pouty, pink, full lips begged to be kissed, though the guy standing behind her, his arm draped over her shoulder protectively, warned off all who would be so bold.
The boy behind her, if anything, was even more handsome than she was beautiful. Muscle stacked upon muscle until his clothes had no choice but to hug every inch of his body. His dark eyebrows and strong jaw lent him a tough look, one that was backed up by the playful anger in his eyes.
The raven-haired goddess turned and embraced her beau, her face tucked away into the heat of his chest. He sat propped up on the hood of a yellow Porsche, the sleek lines of the car offset by the disdain on his face. They were so incredibly, delightfully gorgeous that even though he looked

as if he had seen a cockroach instead of a human being, Grape’s heart still melted at the sight of them.
“I think she’s in love.”
Grape snapped her gaze away from the Adonis with the nasty temperament and turned toward the twin boys standing in front of a black Porsche. Her eyes bounced between the two, taking in every perfect feature. Flawless, rich, dark brown skin. Sparkling hazel eyes. Muscles so tight that you could bounce a quarter off their abs, or arms, or anywhere on their bodies, really. They looked as perfectly engineered as the cars they stood by. But it was their lusciously long eyelashes that sent Grape swooning. Men were not meant to be this pretty.
“Leave her alone, guys.”
Grape’s head spun. Each person she saw was more beautiful than the last, and the redheaded girl standing off to the side was no exception. The baggy jeans and generic T-shirt she wore did not detract from her creamy skin and full lips. Her large brown eyes fascinated Grape—red flakes glimmered from inside each caramel-colored orb.
The air felt charged with a million volts. Her thinking grew cloudy. Were these angels? Was she daydreaming? How did anyone get to be this beautiful? She could sense their hostility, but something inside her felt warm and gooey. Snap to, Grape, she told herself. They want to hurt you.
“Awww, look. It likes us,” the twin with the goatee said. The clean-shaven twin’s face softened. Was that pity she saw in his hazel eyes?

“Stop being mean,” the redhead said, sounding more bored than angry.
“I’m not being mean. Where’d you buy that shirt?” Goatee asked. His quiet tone was laced with thorny edges.
Grape swallowed hard. The fuzz inside her head abated. Focus, she told herself, feeling like an idiot. “I don’t know. Kohl’s maybe.” She glanced down at her blouse. The shirt was a birthday present from her mother, and she wasn’t sure where it came from, but since her mother did most of her own shopping at Kohl’s, it seemed like a pretty safe guess.
Goatee turned toward his brother and smiled. “Pay up.”
Clean-Shaven shook his head at her as if she’d named the wrong store on purpose. He pulled a thick wad of cash from his pocket, peeled off a twenty, and handed it to Goatee. “I was sure it came from Kmart.”
“Why does it matter where I bought my shirt?”
The raven-haired girl glanced out from her hiding place in her boyfriend’s embrace. “It just looked familiar. I wore the same shirt. Three years ago.” She smiled, but there was no kindness when she bared her teeth. “Before it was a knockoff.” The girl hid her face against her boyfriend’s pecs. Their chests rose and fell at the same time, breathing as one.
“Okay. Well, I don’t really buy designer clothes.” Grape wanted to have a witty comeback, but she still wasn’t sure where the insult lay. Did they or did they not like the shirt?
What the hell is wrong with me? Of course they’re making fun of me. Why aren’t I angrier? 

“She means she modeled the design,” the redheaded girl said, cutting her eyes to the couple.
“You’re a model?”
The brothers snickered. “Pretending she doesn’t know who we are, that’s so cute. Is that the new fad amongst the Normals?” Clean-Shaven asked.
“I don’t understand anything you just said.” Grape felt completely out of her depth. This was the school parking lot, but she might as well have been on Jupiter.
The redhead took a step toward Grape, shooting a nasty glance to the others crowded around the cars. “Don’t worry about it. They’re just teasing.”
“I thought about modeling.” Grape hadn’t meant to say that, but no one else spoke, and she felt like she had to say something. Her skin grew hot. She knew she was was blushing beyond red and into crimson mode. She’d practiced runway shows off and on in her bedroom since she was twelve, but she had never told anyone she wanted to be a model. Ever.
“Ow,” Grape cried, only then noticing that she had twisted her ring so hard it was actually cutting into her finger. A tiny drop of blood oozed out and fell to the pavement below.
“Aren’t you a little fat to be a model?” the boyfriend asked. His voice sounded like pure honey even when he spoke acid. 

She rubbed her hands over her stomach but it still felt flat like normal. What were they seeing that she wasn’t?
“The shirt looks nice on you,” Clean-Shaven said before climbing into the driver’s seat of the black Porsche.
“Like a muumuu on a water buffalo,” Goatee added and hopped into the driver’s seat of the yellow Porsche. The couple got into the back of his car and huddled close together.
“Mandy, you coming?” Goatee asked.
“No, I have a test,” Mandy, the redhead, said. “I’ll see you later.”
“Suit yourself.”
Grape waved stupidly at the drivers as the engines revved. You look like a goober, she told herself, but she could not stop waving.
“Move.” Mandy grabbed Grape by the arm and pulled her toward the sidewalk.
Grape tried to shake her arm free, but Mandy’s grip was surprisingly strong. “Let go of me.”
Mandy stared at her with an I-told-you-so look as the Porsches sped off, right through where Grape had been standing.
“Oh my God, were they going to run me over?”
“Not on purpose. I’m sure they just forgot you were there once they started their cars.”

Mandy shook her head. She stared after the Porsches as they pulled into traffic and sped away. Finally, she turned back to Grape and offered her an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that.”
“Which part?”
“All of it, I guess.”

About the Author
I was born during a blizzard. I’m told it was pretty cool, but I have no memory of that time. I grew up in two tiny towns in Virginia and spent most of my twenties moving around the US. I’ve lived in Virginia, Florida, Missouri, and Washington. I’ve settled down, for now, in Raleigh, North Carolina.

I’m a writer and improviser. I studied acting in college but spent more time rewriting lines than memorizing them. My first play, Fourth Wall, was produced my junior year. Since then, I’ve written several full length plays, one acts, and screenplays. I started writing fiction in my late twenties. Now, I focus mainly on novels but still dabble in theater.

Fun facts about me: There are none. I’m sorry to disappoint you so soon. But, I do love to read, write, and run. My hubby is my favorite person on earth. Dogs are my second favorite. All dogs. Know that. I love orange juice, especially when it’s mixed with club soda. Carbonation is better than alcohol. Jaws is my favorite movie. Everything I’ve said so far is true. 

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What Are You Reading?

In college, if you had told me that I would be writing a Young Adult novel at the age of 38, I would have laughed and reminded you that I was going to be a playwright.  Playwrights wrote plays, not YA fiction.

It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy Young Adult Lit.  I had read a great deal of YA in elementary, middle and high school.  I lived on The Cat Ate My Gymsuit and Nothing’s Fair in Fifth Grade.  R.L. Stine and Christopher Pike were my heroes my freshman year of high school.  But I hadn’t read a YA book in all four years of college and I had all but forgotten it was a genre.

I’d spent most of those years studying theater, reading plays or books for English courses.  I went to a small school so we didn’t have any fancy classes, just the bare-bones basics of American Lit, European Lit, and occasionally World Lit.  There were no in depth studies of genres.  So, reading any book that could be described as “pleasure reading” kind of went out the window.

After college, my reading and writing continued in the same vain.  I went to film school and added screenwriting to my playwriting and art films to my viewing library.  Then I met my husband and he dragged me kicking and screaming into reading and watching science fiction.  I found I liked it.  A LOT.

The economy tanked in my early thirties and I left the film world behind and began a more steady career in customer service.  My first gig was working in a call center and that’s where I met a few people who changed my reading habits forever.  I’d already added science fiction but hadn’t really delved into any other genre.  Rachael and Jolean introduced me to Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy, and Young Adult literature.  I devoured The Hunger Games.  I tore threw Sookie Stackhouse novels.  This is also where I discovered Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett.  My life has never been the same.

I started writing my first book at age 33 and my first YA novel at the age of 36.  At 38, I’m working on the second in the series.  As I grow older, what I’m realizing is that it’s okay to read for fun, that it’s okay to enjoy every word and feel hooked and want to live in a world that is completely fantastical and fun.  As an adult, I’m learning how to enjoy myself in a way I never did as a kid.  I hope I keep meeting new people who open my eyes to new ways of seeing the world.  The past decade has been completely enriching.  I only regret not remembering to read for fun sooner. 

And writing fun stories?  Best decision you could ever make, at any age.  Here’s to writing YA at 38 and beyond!

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