Title: First Impression
Author: Pauline Creeden
Genre: YA Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Mystery Expected Release Date: March 31, 2014 Designed by: http://www.alchemybookcovers.com/
Reveal Host: Lady Amber's Tours
Synopsis: First Impression: A Shadow Maven Paranormal
Chira Kelly thought she didnât need anyoneâ¦until she met Ben.
Because of one ugly rumor, Chira lives as an outcast at her school. Which is fine with her, because she works better alone. Always has, always will. And at least she has her one and only true friend, Tasha. When Tasha insists that they join a group to visit a possibly haunted abandoned old schoolhouse, she's wary, but joins her friend. Because of that decision, their lives are in jeopardy as a malevolent spirit targets the group. Tragedies and accidents pick them off one by one, and Chira finds herself drawn to the one person who can see the truth. But can he protect her? Goodreads link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20618864-first-impression
In simple language, Pauline Creeden creates worlds that are both familiar and strange, often pulling the veil between dimensions. She becomes the main character in each of her stories, and because she has ADD, she will get bored if she pretends to be one person for too long. Pauline is a horse trainer from Virginia, but writing is her therapy. Her books have hit #1 on the Amazon Bestseller List and Armored Hearts won the 2013 Book Junkieâs Choice Award in Historical Fiction. First Impression: A Shadow Maven Paranormal is her first mystery. Itâs a dark urban fantasy and will be released March 31, 2014.
(Please note that the Excerpt is from the Unedited ARC and may change a bit before the finished book is released)
Ben pulls open the office door and stands to the side to allow me to go first. The hallway that was empty only a short while ago is now full of kids and their incessant conversations. With a shrug, I eye his class schedule quickly. Except for second and sixth period, we have exactly the same schedule. Heâs in all of the advanced classes, too. Only he has gym for second period, and Latin for sixth â opposite of my schedule, except I take French.
Piece of cake.
I glance up at him again, and his eyes meet mine. My breath hitches. Something in his intense gaze makes me feel like heâs measuring me. And thereâs something strange about his eyes. Theyâre brown, but I can tell he has colored contacts. Why would anyone color their eyes brown?
Something about the way heâs looking at me makes my heart flutter. A sniffle escapes me before I can stop it. Ugh. I clear my throat and start in the direction of first period. âFollow me.â
We elbow our way down the freshman hall toward the second floor, but before we start up I point down the way. âDo you know what your locker number is?â
Ben nods and pushes his backpack up on his shoulder further.
I wait for a second and then smile. âWhat is it?â
â706.â He has a slight accent and his voice is deeper than I expect. I suppress a shiver at the jolt that the musical timbre of his voice sends through my body. Iâm resonating like a tuning fork. I really want him to speak again with every fiber of my being. Whatâs with me?
âUhâ¦okay.â I swallow, trying to regain composure. And take him to the general area of the locker. âHere it is.â
He looks at it, nods, and returns his gaze to me.
âI know you donât have any books to put in it, but do you want to try out the combination?â
He lifts one shoulder in a shrug and spins the combo quickly through the three numbers. I purposefully look around so he knows Iâm not peeking. He opens the locker wide, nods toward me and then closes it again.
âGreat. We have first period over here.â
âYou and I have the same first period?â
My body vibrates again, and I blink hard. So glad my back was to him so he couldnât see the effect his voice has on me. I swallow and face him. âActually, yeah. Our schedules are very similar. Itâs a smallish school so thereâs only a few tracks that juniors can be on.â
He nods, and his eyes are half lidded as if heâs bored already.
I lead him toward our class room. âWe donât really have assigned seats, so you can pretty much sit anywhere you want. Iâll show you to the gym at the end of class. I have French next, but itâs not too far from there.â
I lead him to the front of the class, and my friend, Tasha Brown gives me a wan smile and raises her eyebrows, looking back and forth between me and Ben. She mouths, Whoâs that?
I roll my eyes and put up one finger toward her to let her know Iâll tell her in a minute. Then I turn to the teacher. I hand him the schedule from the office. âHi, Mr. Scott. This is Ben Oscuro, a transfer.â
Mr. Scott sets down the Mountain Dew he was drinking and offers Ben a wide grin. He puts a hand out for him to shake. Ben hesitates but takes the hand in what looks like a firm grip. Mr. Scott shakes his hand afterward. âThatâs some grip youâve got there.â He laughs and leans down to the bottom drawer of his desk and hands Ben a Geography text book.
With a nod, I return to Tasha and squeeze into the desk next to hers. Because Iâm at Jackson Hall partially on scholarship and partially on my fatherâs insurance money, Iâm somewhat of a social pariah. My only real friend is Tasha, a pariah herself, being one of the few African-American kids in the school. Still she tends to be more popular than me, because at least her family does have money. And then thereâs that rumorâ¦
âSo who is the new hottie?â Tasha hops up and down in her seat.
I shake my head at her. âYou are one big hormone, you know that? Sure, heâs cute, but is there any guy in the room you donât consider a hottie?â
Tasha scans the room, considering for a moment with her hand on her chin and a very serious expression on her face. Her hair is in the typical pigtail braids she usually uses to play up the uniform. She has on no sweater, and her shirt is one size too small, causing the buttons at the front to bow and expose part of her red bra. Finally she returns her gaze to me. âThereâs only one guy in here that doesnât rank hottie.â
She leans in conspiratorially and whispers, âMr. Scott.â
I nearly choke on a laugh as I eye the middle aged, balding teacher at the front of the room. But I have to admit, Jackson Hall is a prep school. And no one can afford to make their children look their best more than the wealthy. I guess if I take my fatherâs words to heart, itâs better to be the poor kid in the rich kidsâ schoolâ¦than the other way around. Right?
Tashaâs smile returns and I follow her gaze to figure out why. Ben Oscuro walks down the aisle between us and takes the desk right behind mine. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. He smells like pine and mint, and it reminds me of the outdoors. When I open them again, Tashaâs smile has grown impossibly wider. She leans towards me and whispers, âWhat was that you said about hormones again?â
I shove my elbow toward her but she dodges me with a giggle.