Monday, 25 November 2013

The PSS Chronicles book blitz

Seventeen-year-old Olivia Black has a rare birth defect known as Psyche Sans Soma, or PSS. Instead of a right hand made of flesh and blood, she was born with a hand made of ethereal energy.

How does Olivia handle being the girl with the ghost hand? Well, she's a little bit morbid and a whole lot snarky.

Her mother thinks her obsession with death, black clothing, and the local cemetery is a bid for attention. But when Marcus, the new guy in Olivia's calculus class, stares at her like she's a freak, Olivia doesn't like it. And when her hand goes rogue, doing things she never imagined possible, Olivia finds herself running for her life with Marcus from a group of men bent on taking the power of her hand for their own nefarious purposes.

"Five minutes into my Calc test, I glanced up and caught the new guy staring.

I looked down, following his gaze, and saw that my fingers were shimmering around the edges.

I yanked my hand into my lap and my pencil flew out of it, clattering to the floor.

It landed in the aisle and rolled toward New Guy’s desk. He put out a foot, trapping it, and kicked it back my direction, his glance following its progress as it came back to me, bumping up against the thick sole of my boot. His eyes rose up my multi-buckled calf to my thigh, then to my lap, stopping at the spot where I was doing my best to hide my hand under my desk.

But we could both see the pool of blue PSS energy, shapeless and pulsing, writhing at the end of my wrist stump.

I looked up again, locking eyes with him.

His expression was unreadable. He didn’t look surprised, or afraid, or alarmed. He just looked, his eyes fixed on my wacked-out hand, as if curious to see what it would do next.

I gritted my teeth and tried to focus my PSS back into shape. I was not going to be this guy’s personal freak show. I could fix this. It was just mind over matter.

But it didn’t work. If anything, the more I tried, the worse it got, expanding and losing even more definition. The burning sensation grew so intense I squeezed my eyes shut against it. All around me, I could hear the scrape and shuffle of students getting up and handing in their tests. I bent over my desk, trying to block my hand from view. For a moment, I thought about getting up and running out of class, but someone would see my hand for sure if I did that. Maybe if I took a deep breath, and calmed down, it would go back to normal on its own.

As if in response to that thought, the pain suddenly eased off.

I opened my eyes.

New Guy was leaning over the edge of his desk, and there seemed to be something wrong with his neck. He kept jerking his head toward Passion Wainwright, the girl who sat in front of me. What did he want? An introduction? If so, his timing was utter crap.

Leave me alone,” I mouthed past clenched lips.

He shook his head and gave an exaggerated nod toward Passion again, rolling his eyes in her direction.

This time, I turned and looked.

Something was crawling up Passion’s back.

Not just one something. Five somethings. Five elongated, wisp-thin tendrils, winding their way up Passion’s chair, climbing her back, fluttering at the strands of hair that had escaped from her ponytail, making a moving, barely-perceptible pattern of bluish light on the back of her white turtleneck so faint I could almost convince myself it was an optical illusion.

Except it wasn’t.

It was my hand, my five fingers stretching impossibly and rising from under the front of my desk, groping the back of Passion Wainwright.

I yanked my wrist in toward my body, but it made no difference. I couldn’t feel my hand, couldn’t control those fingers or call them back.

Passion shivered, as if she felt a draft, and absently brushed an undulating tendril away from her neck.
The thickest finger, the one in the middle, rose up along her spine, stopping at a spot right between her shoulder blades. It held level for a moment, weaving back and forth like some ghostly snake dancing to the tune of an invisible flute. Then it dipped forward, slipping silently through the thin cotton fabric of Passion’s shirt and straight into her back.

She didn’t make a sound as she went limp, her torso gently slanting toward her desk; the tendril of PSS embedded in her back the only thing holding her up."

You can find Ghost Hand on Goodreads

You can download Ghost Hand for free here:
- Amazon
- Kobo

My Review:
*I received a free copy of this book from the author in exchange for an honest review*

Olivia has Psyche Sans Soma, and it means that one of her hands is made of ethereal energy. Now her hand seems to be malfunctioning and doing strange things, just as a shadowy group are trying to kidnap her to harvest her PSS for their criminal purposes.

This book sounded totally different to anything that I had read before and I did like it. I liked the concept of a normal girl having this 'ghost hand' and everyone in town seems fine with it until Olivia is made aware of a group of people who will kill her to get her hand. Now she doesn't know who to trust and she has the added issue of her hand doing strange things and obtaining weapons to be used against her enemies. I liked the whole plot for this book and I think that the author did a good job of making Olivia likable and a girl that you can easily relate to. I always get concerned that these kinds of books go a bit too much into complicated sci-fi but this book does not do that. The story flows nicely, it is easy to follow and uncomplicated. The plot changes constantly and evolves nicely, taking the story along in new directions, which was good.

I mostly liked the characters with the exception of Jason who I can't stand the sight of. Even the bad guys have a bit more personality than Jason. The action sequences are good though the book does slow down in places as we deal with Olivia's emotions.

My gripes with it are the usual complaints I have about the YA genre. This falling instantly in love with a stranger thing seems to be the norm in this kind of book and it does get a bit wearing to see it in every book. Still I guess this is what the target audience want so I can't really blame the author for doing it. I'd like to see a few more books where the teenagers can just be friends with members of the opposite sex! I felt that the story was strong enough on its own without introducing an unconvincing love affair into it. I never really felt any chemistry with Olivia and Marcus. I was more interested in the fight against the enemy.

Overall I think that this series really has some potential. The concept is original and fresh, and future books could take this story forward in many different directions. Hints are given about how book 2 will develop so that could be interesting. I would probably take a look at this book sometime in the future. I recommend this book to readers of YA paranormal, dystopia and sci-fi.

star rating photo: 35 star rating 3-5-stars.jpg

Olivia Black is back.

Only this time she's not the one in need of rescue.

Samantha James, rich, popular, and an award-winning composer at age seventeen, is the next target on the CAMFers' list. In order to convince Samantha to come with them, Olivia and Passion must pose as cousins, blend into the most affluent high school in Indianapolis, and infiltrate a mysterious cult known as The Hold.

Olivia doesn't expect it to be easy, even with the PSS guys backing them up. But what she discovers over the course of the mission will call into question everything she ever believed about herself, her family, and especially about Marcus, the guy she is undoubtedly falling in love with.

Marcus crossed back to the faucet of the now-full tub and turned it off. He bent over and turned on the jets, which kicked up a lot more steam and a lot more noise. I was starting to melt inside my own clothes, and he must have been too, because when he turned back to me he was slipping his t-shirt over his head.


"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice coming out a little strangled.


"You and I need to talk," he said, letting the shirt drop to the floor.


"Yes," I said, trying not to gawk at his chest and the way the steam swirled into it, his PSS shining back and coloring the mist a soft blue hue. "But can't we do that with our clothes on?"


"We need to talk where I'm sure no one can hear us," he said, his hands going to the snap of his jeans. The zipper was next. He had on red tartan boxers. He slid the jeans down his legs, turned, slipped off the boxers, and stepped into the tub, sinking down into it with an audible moan.


I stood there stunned. I had just seen Marcus naked. He'd just stripped to his beautiful bare ass right in front of me as if it were nothing. Yes, we'd been sleeping in a tent together for weeks, and making out, but when one of us changed clothes, the other still looked away. Marcus and I had not gotten naked together. We hadn't even come close, because I always held back. I couldn’t even bring myself to reach my hands inside his shirt. What if my flesh hand accidentally went into his chest and disrupted his PSS? Even worse, what if my ghost hand reached into him and pulled something horrible out? I was pretty sure either of those scenarios would be a serious buzz kill to our intimacy.


"Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've had a bath?" he said, almost a purr, laying his head back on the edge of the tub and closing his eyes.


"I—no—I haven't had one for like a month," I stammered, looking down at the tile floor, completely flustered.


"Olivia," he said softly, and I looked up to find his eyes boring into me, dewy drops captured on those thick dark lashes. "Come here."


I crossed obediently to the side of the bath, both relieved and a bit disappointed to find that the burbling of the jets obscured most of what was in it. Except his PSS chest. It glowed and pulsed like some half-submerged, cerulean, underwater treasure.


Marcus put his hand out for mine. The invitation was obvious.


This was crazy. There was no way we were going to be able to talk, coherently, in a bathtub together.


"It's a big tub," he said, nodding at the other end, "and I promise to be good."

You can buy Ghost Hold here:
- Amazon

Ripley Patton lives in Portland, Oregon with one cat, two teenagers, and a man who wants to live on a boat. She is an award-winning short story writer and author of The PSS Chronicles, a young adult paranormal thriller series.
Ripley doesn't smoke, or drink, or cuss as much as her characters. Her only real vices are writing, eating M&Ms, and watching reality television. 

You can find Ripley here:
- Website
- Facebook
- Twitter
- Goodreads
- Google+

   Top ten favourite movies

  1. Stranger than Fiction
  2. Little Big Man
  3. Much Ado About Nothing (or almost any Shakespeare-based movie)
  4. Howl's Moving Castle (or anything by Hayao Miyasaki)
  5. The Alien Movies
  6. The Princess Bride
  7. District 9
  8. Planet of the Apes (in all its manifestations)
  9. Great Indie movies like Trollhunter, Monsters, and Safety Not Guaranteed
  10. The PSS Chronicles Trilogy (which only exists in my head- so far)

    Top ten favourite foods:

  11. Chocolate
  12. Steak
  13. Pizza
  14. Ice Cream (almost any flavor but Cookies and Cream)
  15. Beef Stroganoff
  16. Blueberry Pie
  17. Root beer Float
  18. Macaroni and Cheese
  19. A good burger and fries
  20. Almost anything Mexican or Italian

    top five favourite drinks (I'm not much of a drinker)

  21. Water
  22. Root Beer
  23. Honey Mead
  24. Vodka and Coke
  25. Hot Chocolate
- What are 10 items on your bucket list?

  1. Hike the Oregon section of the Pacific Crest Trail
  2. Sail around the world with my husband
  3. Get on the New York Times Best Seller List
  4. Go to the premier of Ghost Hand The Movie in Hollywood or New York.
  5. Travel the world (especially Europe and the Mediterranean).
  6. Take my daughter on an African Safari Tour (NOT the hunting kind).
  7. Be the Guest of Honor at a Con
  8. Make it back to New Zealand someday.
  9. Write and live in a secluded cabin in Alaska
  10. Help out on the set of Survivor, or be on the show with my son.

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