Campaign: Walled by Anne Tibbets

    Review By: Aislinn Pearce Genre: »


    Walled by Anne Tibbets
    (The Line #2)
    Published by: Carina Press (HQN)
    Publication date: December 1st 2014
    Genres: Dystopia, New Adult

    Synopsis:
    Freedom means making brutal choices.

    Rebel lovers Naya and Ric have survived one year in hiding, raising Naya’s twins from infants to toddlers in the shadow of the brutal Auberge dictatorship. They’re alive, and they’re together, but the city is crumbling around them and the haunting memory of Naya’s dark days on The Line have never fully left them. Living in isolation won’t be an option forever.

    When a mysterious revolutionary seeks their help to infiltrate Auberge’s electronic heart and shut it down, it’s an opportunity—it’s risky, yes, but if it works they’ll get out of the city and taste freedom for the first time. Naya needs this. They need this.

    Beyond the broken walls of Auberge, Naya and Ric find the paradise they’ve always longed for. But with anarchy reigning and Naya’s children lost amidst the chaos, they’ll need to forfeit their post-apocalyptic Eden…or commit an unspeakable act.

    Book two of two.

    Purchase Links:

    AUTHOR BIO:


    Anne Tibbets is an SCBWI award-winning and Smashwords.com Best Selling author. After writing for Children’s television, Anne found her way to young/new adult fiction by following what she loves: books, strong female characters, twisted family dynamics, magic, sword fights, quick moving plots, and ferocious and cuddly animals.

    Along with CARRIER, Anne is also the author of the young adult fantasy novella, THE BEAST CALL and the young adult contemporary, SHUT UP.

    Anne divides her time between writing, her family, and three furry creatures that she secretly believes are plotting her assassination.

    Author Links:





    EXCERPT

    Ric wouldn’t even face me. He rested his arm against the jamb of his bedroom door, his fist tight. “We have a good thing here. Why are you throwing it away? And for what?”
    I realized then what he was afraid of. He must have thought I wasn’t just leaving the twins, but him, as well. He thought I was deserting all of them.
    I crossed the room and swept him into my arms.
    He melted into me as though it would save his life and rested his face beside my ear.
    I pecked him on the lips to try and reassure him, but he growled at the taste of me and pulled me into a crushing lip-lock.
    “Damn it,” he muttered, kissing me fiercely.
    Surprised, I gasped, unsure if I should follow my instinct to break away or to fight against it and savor the moment.
    Behind us, the front door closed as Shirel exited.
    Ric pulled me into his room and slammed the door closed with his foot.
    “Ric, I—”
    He covered my mouth with his again.
    His fingers dug into my hair and he drew my body into his. The feel of his frame against mine was both intoxicating and terrifying. His lips devoured me. His tongue tasted the contours of my mouth, my neck, my ear, then my lips again.
    As Ric’s hands left my hair and smoothed down the curves of my ribs and breasts, his desperation was palpable. It was as if he needed to make sure I was there.
    I felt as if I was being pulled underwater.
    Beautiful. Yet suffocating.
    I fought against my defenses, trying to enjoy the sensations, but the moment his fingertips played with the snap of my pants, my skin slicked with the sweat of a thousand panic attacks, and I lurched away from him. Memories of appointments flooded my mind with a tidal wave of pain and suffering.
    Their hands on me. Their forced kisses. Their grunting and groaning as they violated me.
    Skidding backward, I slammed into the closed door behind me and pushed my arms out, warding Ric off. “Stop!”
    He looked physically beaten, heaving. His hair and clothes were disheveled. The worst of it was his face. He was visibly crushed. “Naya?” He was asking, no, begging me not to do this to him again.
    My lungs tightened at the sight of his pain and I cupped a hand to my mouth to keep from crying with old fear.
    It wasn’t his fault. I knew this. I wasn’t trying to punish him or withhold affection for a purpose. That was the last thing I wanted. But it couldn’t be helped. My fear was still there, just under the top layer of my skin. All it took was a scratch, and my worst nightmares poured out of me like a dump truck tipped back to unload.
    “I can’t,” I whispered. “I can’t.”
    “I’m not going to hurt you.” There was a tinge of annoyance in his words.
    My other hand found the knob. I yanked the door open and fled. 


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