(Book #1 in the Configured Trilogy)
Publication date: October 20th 2016
Genres: Sci-Fi/Dystopian, Young Adult
“In the future, love will make you a traitor.
120 years after a virus decimated earth’s population the survivors thrive in safety, away from the death and destruction of the Outerbounds. But there is a price. Divided into three levels of intellect, Citizens focus solely on duty. Emotions are pointless, even dangerous.
Due to her advanced intelligence, seventeen-year-old computer genius, Avlyn Lark is separated from her twin brother at birth and raised by adoptive parents. She gains privilege, the ideal future. He dies. Avlyn barely knew him yet he remains bound to her memory.
But following a string of rebel intrusions on the city, Avlyn receives a cryptic message. After which, she begins seeing visions of her dead twin, not to mention a strange power she doesn’t understand starts to emerge. The mysterious radical who urges Avlyn to join their fight becomes her link to answers. Freedom. Love.
Opportunity calls, but if she says yes will she lose it all?
Configured is the first novel in a Configured trilogy that poses the question: does humanity need love for survival? Fans of Divergent, Matched, and the Maze Runner will love this world of dark secrets, intrigue and thirst for a better tomorrow.
Buy Configured today to read a YA Dystopian/Light Romance that will leave you wanting more!
I’m Jenetta and a lifetime lover of Sci-Fi (thx Dad). I had a weird LONG stint (declaring HOW long would give away too many age secrets… and eh hem… a girl never tells) where I read almost no books for pleasure (the horror!). Near the end of 2014 I picked up Hunger Games, and I was off like a rocket.
That next year I read about 40 YA books (mostly Sci-Fi/dystopian) and a couple months into it got the idea to write a book (with no prior experience or even desire) about children who were not allowed to be raised by their biological parents. You see, I am an adoptive mama of two lovely daughters from foster care. That story grew into what Configured is today.
It has been a HUGE journey with a lot of ups and downs and it took WAY longer than I anticipated. But it is finally here.
Hurried citizens pass by. A woman shepherds a little girl to drop her off at pre-primer school. Others gaze at handhelds or move to the line for the driverless taxis.
As we stop on the corner of Seventy-eighth Street, a motion across the road catches my eye. A teenaged, sepia-skinned girl pulls her curly hair loose from a ponytail and drops the dark coat she wore to the ground, revealing bright red clothing and standing out from the sea of neutral like illumination on a dark night. Something about the fabric appears soft and comfortable, in contrast to mine, which is more or less functioning as a uniform. She races down the sidewalk, and the blur of color streams around her like a flag.
A rebel. I should have known.
Kyra stares, her mouth falling wide. Some citizens from the crowded street gawk while others continue on with their business, each with eyes glued to their Flexx devices.
The runner stops and pulls out a small, matte black weapon from a bag slung over her shoulders. My eyes grow wide. Not that I’ve seen many weapons this close before, but something is unusual about it. She slides the top of the gun back and it emits a high-pitched whine. Barely thinking, my arms shoot out and I force Kyra to the ground. Other people duck behind anything substantial, even if it’s just the person in front of them, or sprint the other way.
The rebel points the weapon at the nearby building, causing me to crouch further down. The little girl I saw earlier screams and points at the rebel clad in red. The rebels will only destroy our way of life, and that child knows it. The mother tries to cover her child’s mouth and assures her that the Guardian drones will take the bad lady away.
My heart pounds at the mother’s words.
Don’t take her away.
I quickly correct my thinking.
They must take her away, for the protection of all of us.
I cover my ears, expecting a loud blast, but it doesn’t come. Instead, it’s more of a crackling. There’s no damage to the building other than a set of words emblazoned across the surface. The hair on my arms stand at the sight.
PEOPLE OF ELORE, BREAK FREE