Angie Adams joins the powerlifting team her junior year, but she has more in mind than just toning up—like getting closer to her crush, football star Cory Jacob, who, as luck would have it, is assigned as her spotting partner. When Angie’s feelings are unexpectedly returned, her life is suddenly filled with the giddy electricity of first love. But why, then, does Angie get a little flutter when her older and very hot boss, Brad, looks at her?
Angie seems to have everything going her way until her world is torn apart by her sister’s betrayal which leads to a brutal rape. Heartbroken and reeling in the aftermath, Angie has to find an internal strength to rival her record-breaking power lifts if she ever wants to feel worthy of love again.
MY THOUGHTS: While I had something to do with the publication of this book as co-owner of Creative Prose Publishing, I can tell you we wouldn't have published it if we didn't like it. And I really like this novel. Stephanie has taken a difficult subject, rape, and given us an honest, unflinching, heartbreaking version that is still appropriate to be read by teens. Based in part on her own experience with rape, Angie's reaction and emotional aftermath is pure and absolutely disarming in its truth. However, she also shows us that one can heal from this violent assault and learn to not only live with it but also love again. This is a tough subject, but one dealt with excellently by Stephanie. Read an excerpt below.
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EXCERPT:
Lorraine gasped, her eyes growing wide, mouth agape in horror. She grabbed my arm, the ugly mottled bruises stark against my pale skin, a myriad of color on a white canvas. “What happened?”
“Noth—” I tried to jerk away, but she held fast.
“Don’t you say nothing.” Her teeth were clenched, her eyes smoldered, the intensity of her gaze too strong. Afraid of the emotion, I looked away. “Those bruises aren’t nothing. What happened?”
“It’s nothing!” I yanked my arm away, angry tears seeping out of the corners of my eyes. I fled to the corner of the bed.
I didn’t have to tell her anything, I didn’t owe her anything. She hadn’t cared enough about me last night to see if I was alright, abandoning me for Dave, just like the other night with Hobbs. I wanted to scream at her, ask her why she hadn’t come, why she hadn’t saved me, why she had put me in that situation in the first place.
I could see the question in her eyes, “Angie—”
“Just get out of here.” Quietly, I cut her off.
She stepped toward me and put a hand on my bed. I clamped my mouth closed in an angry line and shook my head. She ignored my warning, her knee pressing down the bed.
“Angie, who did that to you?” Her voice was full of worry.
I clenched my hands so tightly I felt what was left of my jagged nails dig into my palms. Why hadn’t she come back to check on me? Why?
Flying at her, I screamed, “I said get out. Leave me alone.” I shoved her, knocking her through the door, slamming it in her stunned face. I locked it and leaned against it. My knees gave out and I slid to the floor. I stared at my arm, transfixed by the dot to dot of discoloration, remembering the cruel feel of his fingers.
The handle rattled above my head and then Lorraine knocked. “Angie, let me in.” The knob rattled again. And then the door shook against my back when she slammed into it. “Fine.”
Her footsteps retreated. Shortly after, I heard the distant open and close of the front door.
I pulled a blanket off the foot of my bed, draping it around my shoulders, pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes in a vain effort to staunch the flow of tears. I could have told her. I should have told her.
Join the Facebook launch party tomorrow night. Click here to join, and then from wherever you're at you can play the games to win all kinds of fun prizes - including a copy of my own The End of Feeling in audiobook.
Join the Facebook launch party tomorrow night. Click here to join, and then from wherever you're at you can play the games to win all kinds of fun prizes - including a copy of my own The End of Feeling in audiobook.
Thanks Cindy! :-)
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