Looking at Luca, who’s just saved my life, I can’t respond. No explanation I might offer will satisfy after all of the extraordinary things he’s just witnessed. —Ankh
AnCaela Murphy's body is a ticking bomb that only her mom can defuse. The problem: her mother is missing and presumed taken by the Skinless, bogeymen from Ankh’s home world who have been hunting her and her mother for two years--ever since they fled that world and certain death.
With help from Luca, a boy whose touch confuses and who refuses to back down, Ankh races against time to find her mother before the bomb inside of her detonates, taking her life. Tracking the Skinless across the country, the pair search for her mother and uncover the horrifying truth behind the generations-old war.
L. M. Davis loves great storytelling. She needs nothing more than a good book and a comfy chair to be happy. She was born in the south, raised in the north, and has several English degrees under her belt. She currently lives in Atlanta and is contemplating getting a cat. It will probably be black. The first two books of her Shifters Novel series, Interlopers and Posers, are available now.
Angst: it's the bread and butter, milk and honey of YA. Everyone, me included, loves a good angsty, tortured hero; the heroine never quite knows where she stands and, of course, that's part of the thrill.
Love them though I might, when I write I go 180 degrees in the opposite direction. I write sweet boys. Boys who are head over heels and don't care if the heroine knows--in fact, they would prefer that she did. There's never a question about my boys stand. They are smitten and sweet--not saccharine, but loyal and committed--they would never pull a disappearing act.
I don't know why I write them this way, maybe it's because that's what all girls deserve.
Skinless: A Novel in III Parts
I’m leaning against a tree across the street from Ankh’s house
watching it like some sort of creepy, stalker dude. I don’t
know what I’m doing here or what possessed me to follow her home
and then post up against this tree like some sort of amateur
detective. All I can say is when the girl I like looks at me with
wide, freaked out eyes and then runs away, the only thing that I
can do run after her. Even if she didn’t ask me, even if she
had told me not to, I’m not superman enough to fight the instinct
to protect her.