Shift
by M.A. George Genre: YA Sci-fi Release Date: June 1st 2018 Summary: Seventeen-year-old Perry Teasdale is a dreamer. Sheâs not the kind of dreamer who waltzes through fields of wildflowers, twirling her skirts in a starry-eyed daze; or the kind who aspires to be the biggest rock star the world has ever known (not that sheâd complain, if that accidentally happened). Sheâs the kind of dreamer who canât get a decent nightâs rest, because her sleep is flooded with scenes from other worldsâones that seem as real as life itself. Mind-blowing dreams may sound like loads of fun, but when they start to bleed into Perryâs waking hoursâconfusing the line between dream and reality, and keeping her in a sleep-deprived fog no amount of caffeine can cureâPerryâs not exactly thrilled. Try as she might to shake the dreams from her mind, they keep gaining speed, growing ever more vivid and intenseâ¦until that hazy boundary between real and imaginary fades away, and Perry is forced to consider the impossible: Her dreams seem real, because they are. When disaster strikes, sending Perryâs newfound normalcy into a tailspin, she takes the only logical path left: a whirlwind tour of the multiverse, scouring an ever-growing assortment of alternate realities for the missing pieceâthe missing personâto put her life together again. Along the way, Perry enlists the help of an ancient wise woman (who may be a tad homicidal); a nerdy-in-all-the-right-ways mathematician (who knows all of Perryâs secrets, even before introducing himself); and a sword (because you can never go wrong with a sword). At times hilariousâat times heartbreakingâShift is sure to be, well, one of those two things.
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Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
"'Tis hardly the time to turn meek, Your Ladyship."
The voice is muffledâpanting from a knight's helmetâbut the sneer is intact. Clearly he knows meek isn't in my vocabulary, and he disapproves.
I'd give him a piece of my mind, if I had any clue who he is...and if he hadn't just blocked a sword a few inches shy of connecting with my neck, burying the point of his battle ax in my assailant's chainmail armpit.
I swallow. "Thank you." Is that really the appropriate thing to say to someone using his armored foot to pry his weapon from a bleeding man's ribcage?
The knight tips a curt bow of his plumed helmet to me. "At your service, Lady Perry." Definitely a sneer there, although all I see through his visor is a pair of ice-blue eyes. Oddly familiar eyes.
He raises his ax, and Bleeding Man's head somersaults from his shoulders, followed promptly by the emptying of my stomach. I lean on my sword to keep from swaying.
Wait...I have a sword?
The knight spares me a smug glare, and then the ax swings again. The next opponent's mace thuds to the ground, along with the arm holding it.
My eyes flinch closed. This isn't real. It can't be.
Armless Man's scream says otherwise.
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