DARKNESS HAS FALLEN, AND SHE ALONE WILL SEE THE
With her mother’s life hanging in the balance, Scarlett is devastated – and
done with being in the dark. She wants answers, all of them.
But when was her pursuit of the truth ever straightforward?
Pulling a single thread impels a great unravelling. And each revelation will
force Scarlett to rethink what she thought she knew about the Ceruleans, the
Fallen, her family – herself.
All that came before was a mere prelude to this, the last journey. From London
to Twycombe to Hollythwaite to Cerulea, Scarlett will be stalked by the ghosts
of what has been, what may have been and what may come to pass. Until she
reaches the place where it all began, and it all must end.
But in the final reckoning, none will survive unscathed. And some will not
survive at all.
In this explosive conclusion to The Ceruleans series, all must be defined by
their actions: sinner, saint… or something more beautiful entirely?
About the Author:
Once upon a
time a little girl told her grandmother that when she grew up she wanted to be
a writer. Or a lollipop lady. Or a fairy princess fireman. ‘Write, Megan,’ her
grandmother advised. So that’s what she did.
Thirty-odd years later, Megan is a professional writer and published author by
day, and an indie novelist by night. Her fiction – young adult romance with
soul – recently earned her the SPR’s Independent Woman Author of the Year
Megan grew up in the Royal County, a hop, skip and a (very long) jump from
Windsor Castle, but these days she makes her home in a village of Greater
Manchester. She lives with her husband, a proud Scot who occasionally
kicks back in a kilt; her son, a budding artist with the soul of a
palaeontologist; and her baby daughter, a keen pan-and-spoon drummer who sings
in her sleep. When she's not writing, you'll find her walking someplace green,
reading by the fire, or creating carnage in the kitchen as she pursues her
impossible dream: of baking something edible.
Nicole Cassidy moves from sunny Georgia to gloomy New England, the last thing
she expects is to learn that her homeroom is a cover for a secret coven of witches.
Even more surprisingly … she’s apparently a witch herself. Despite doubts about
her newfound abilities, Nicole is welcomed into this ancient circle of witches
and is bedazzled by their powers—and, to her dismay, by Blake—the school’s
get close to Blake wind up hurt. His girlfriend Danielle will do anything to
keep them away, even if she must resort to using dark magic. But the chemistry
between Blake and Nicole is undeniable, and despite wanting to protect Nicole
from Danielle’s wrath, he finds it impossible to keep his distance.
Olympian Comet shoots through the sky for the first time in three thousand
years, Nicole, Blake, Danielle, and two others in their homeroom are gifted
with mysterious powers. But the comet has another effect—it opens the portal to
the prison world that has contained the Titans for centuries. After an ancient
monster escapes and attacks Nicole and Blake, it’s up to them and the others to
follow the clues from a cryptic prophecy so that they can save their town … and
possibly the world.
Michelle Madow grew up in Baltimore, graduated
Rollins College in Orlando, and now lives in Boca Raton, Florida. She wrote her
first book in her junior year of college, and has been writing novels since.
Some of her favorite things are: reading, pizza, traveling, shopping, time
travel, Broadway musicals, and spending time with friends and family. Michelle
has toured across America to promote her books and to encourage high school
students to embrace reading and writing. Someday, she hopes to travel the world
for a year on a cruise ship.
E.C. Moore’s young adult novel, Every Big and Little Wish, opens in late spring 1970. Sixteen-year-old Jacy Wilbert’s Mom got promoted, so her parents sold their Victorian home in California and moved to a townhouse in Oregon.
Torn away from the only home she’s ever known, forced to leave her beloved German shepherd behind, Jacy feels misplaced. Exacerbating an already terrible situation, her dad runs off with the bombshell real estate agent who sold them their townhouse. And, just when it seems things can’t get any worse, her mom loses the stupid job they left California for in the first place and begins to drown her sorrows with pink wine, night after night. Jacy’s caught in the middle, struggling to maintain a relationship with her AWOL dad while tolerating his annoying, much-younger girlfriend.
Missing old friends back in California, and feeling like an outsider, Jacy needs to build a new social life in a new school. Not the sort of girl to wait around for what she wants to come her way, she sets her sights on Neil Wilder, the best-looking boy around.
Everything changes when Jacy Wilbert knocks on the wrong door.
When Elizabeth’s not writing feverishly, you will find her out walking or sightseeing. She’s crazy about coffee, books, cooking, good wine, cairn terriers, miniature ponies, historical houses, tapas, and witty people.
She resides in a fifties bungalow in Southern California, with her creative-director, hubba-hubba husband, a yappy blonde dog, and one feisty Chihuahua.
Two of the best
book-to-movie adaptions have to be The
Godfather and To Kill a Mockingbird.
Two stinkers are The Great Gatsby and
Memoirs of a Geisha.
I love a good mob
story. With that said, The Godfather
is an entertaining book, but the movie is much better. It’s Artsier. Marlon
Brando at his best doesn’t hurt. The scene where he dies in the garden while
playing with his grandson will stay with me forever.
Blame my passion for
the film version of TKM on Gregory Peck in his prime, and Kim Stanley’s
excellent but uncredited narration. As the narrator, Stanley does a stellar job
of voicing Scout as an adult. The scene in the forest when Scout is being
chased barefoot in that ham hock Halloween costume is movie magic. To Kill a Mockingbird is sheer
perfection when it comes to adaptions.
Moving right along to
the dreck, I’ve heard it said that The
Great Gatsby is unfilmable, and history backs this premise up. Roger Ebert
wrote of the 1974 Robert Redford version: The
Great Gatsby is a superficially beautiful hunk of a movie with nothing much in
common with the spirit of F. Scott Fitzgerald's novel. I found the 2000 TV
version downright odd, who thought it was a good idea to cast Mira Sorvino as
Daisy? Buzz Luhrmann’s 2013 musical version has been called shallow, trashy,
and tasteless. Maybe Hollywood should give up on bringing Jay Gatsby’s tragic
tale to the silver screen. Maybe.
I had high hopes for Memoirs of a Geisha. Arthur Golden’s
stunning novel knocked my socks off, so impressed I read it twice. Sadly, the
lavish production did not deliver. The kimonos were the highlight.
Why do so many movie
adaptions of beloved books fall short? So much has to do with time. The scope
of some novels is just too vast and nuanced to condense down to 120 – 160 or so
minutes, consequently characters, plot lines, and many fine points get omitted
by the time the screenplay is complete. It makes more sense to turn longer
novels into series for cable. Are you listening, Hollywood?