Title: New World: Rising
Author: Jennifer Wilson
Series: New World (Book 1)
Genre: YA/Dystopian
Publisher: Self Published
Release Date: Aug 14 2014
Edition/Format Available In: eBook
Blurb/Synopsis:
Since witnessing her parents’ murders at the age of eleven, Phoenix’s only purpose in life has been to uphold her mother’s dying words- to be strong and survive. But surviving outside of The Walls- outside of The Sanctuary- is more like a drawn-out death sentence. A cruel and ruthless city, Tartarus is run by the Tribes whose motto is simple, “Join or die.”
Refusing to join and determined to live, Phoenix fights to survive in this savage world. Trusting no one, she lives as a rogue, fending only for herself. Then in a moment of rash judgment, she breaks all of her rules to save a child, and in that moment her life is turned upside down. When the rescue mission goes awry, Phoenix is captured by an underground group who claims no allegiance with neither the Tribes nor The Sanctuary. She finds herself in the most dangerous game of survival she has ever played.
In her captivity, only one person- the handsome and oddly sympathetic Triven- shows Phoenix something she has never before experienced: kindness. While warring with unfamiliar emotions and still skeptical of her captors' motives, Phoenix quickly realizes that these people may just hold the key to her lost memories. But who can she trust, when no one can be trusted? Not even herself.
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***** 5 Stars *****
This book rocked! I loved the characters, the storyline, and the constant action and kick buttness of the heroine. Set in a polluted and hostile city, Phoenix has lived on her own, surviving, after the brutal deaths of her parents. After she rescues a child from the certain fate of death most people in her city face, she is rescued, body restored, and suddenly a captive of an unknown group. Finding out the group's identity, their purpose, and how they work becomes Phoenix's next tasks. Not realizing she herself will change, she learns to hope, love, and fight for something other than survival. Now faced with protecting those she cares for and going against the "utopia" that she once lived in, her group will try and infiltrate The Sanctuary which lies next to the city and is closed off.
The book ends on a cliffhanger and I immediately looked to see when book two is coming out. WHY, why, why? I have to wait to see what happens! Phoenix rocks my socks as a strong female lead and Triven is an excellent dystopian book boyfriend (that's right, I claimed him first! :) ). Story is fast paced, never being slogged down in boring details or derailed, and has me hungry to continue the series!
I awoke with a start, my arms flailing outward, as the scream caught in my throat. It only took seconds to recognize my surroundings, to calm my racing heart. This was how I awoke every morning, every morning since my parents died. After years I managed to restrain the scream, awakening before it escaped my lips. Screaming in the night could get you found, screaming during the daytime would get you killed.
I checked my father’s watch in the green light. It was nearly three in the afternoon. There were still hours until dark. I knew I would have to stock up more food before I left for my next refuge, but scavenging during the daytime wasn’t an option.
Thumbing through my book collections, I felt uninspired and bored, having already read them so many times. I thought about trying to sleep longer but my mind was too awake. After eating a breakfast of dried apples, I made a plan to grow my personal library. Aside from needing something else to distract my mind, books always proved a good source of trade. Those few of us who defied the Tribes kept to ourselves and stayed quiet. We never gathered, nor really ever trusted one another. But when goods ran scarce, trades were not uncommon. It was finding the right recluses to trade with that was key. One wrong choice and you could easily find yourself with empty hands and a knife in your back. A select few of my merchants knew how to read and those that didn’t, never turned down good kindling.
Rifling through my few belongings, I decided to leave my larger backpack behind. It was too heavy and often cumbersome while crawling through the vents. I would only need a small tote big enough to carry books. My revolver lay on the mattress in its holster. I eyed it, speculating if it was needed. I always took it with me outside or to hunt for food, but no one ever came in the library anymore. I had seen a few rats and the occasional wild dogs on the floors below, but none of them ever bothered me. Instead I slid my knife into my hip sheath and climbed up the shelves to the vent.
As always, I moved with great caution, careful to never make a sound and always listening for others. But like usual, the building was empty. After nearly ten minutes of crawling, I saw light shining up through the galvanized steel. Cautiously I pressed my ear to the vent while holding my breath.
Nothing.
I smiled and pushed open the grate before sliding out onto the top of a bookshelf. Before descending I scanned the rows, my keen eyes looking for any trace of movement, foreign color or moved shelving. Nothing had changed since I was here last. Several of the books I had discarded still lay on the floor where I had dumped them, uninterested.
Relaxing a bit, I took a deep breath. The room was massive, filled with rows upon rows of abandoned books. It smelled like aged paper, and earth from the destroyed floors below. I loved that smell. Soundlessly, I climbed down the metal shelf I had perched on and headed for my favorite sections.
First I stopped by the romance section— business first, then pleasure. These were my least favorite kind of book. People fell into whirlwind romance, swept up with sex and passion. I didn’t believe in love, it was a wasted emotion that could get you killed. People did foolish things in the name of love. While I detested these books, they were generally thick and most of my allies didn’t care about the content as long as they burned.
I never made friends, not even with my allies. There were those I could barter with safely, and those I couldn't, I stole from. I never stole from the dead. Rationally it made more sense to take from the dead; after all it wasn’t like they would be using anything anymore. But the thought made me nauseous, reminding me too much of watching my parents’ murders. Instead I traded with a few recluses and targeted the Tribes’ storage facilities for the rest. I never felt guilty stealing from them.
Blindly grabbing a few thick books, I tossed them into my bag and moved on to the educational section. I browsed the titles looking for books on survival and warfare. After skimming their backs I took two of the most promising titles before moving on to the fiction section. I loved this section the most. The books here provided an escape, a place to let my mind wander free and find friends. Not real friends, but friends I could care about without having to commit to. Once I had opened a book and read its pages, those characters could never be taken away from me. Even if the books were burned, they would still live on in my mind. They couldn’t die or betray you, friends on paper proved much more lucrative than real ones.
This section was also the largest, and after years of perusing its shelves I had only just scratched the surface. Leisurely, I moved through the rows looking for authors I recognized or titles that called to me. Upon finding one of interest I would pull it from the shelf and read the back cover or the first few pages. Anything of interest was added to my collection. Everything else got added to the growing pile on the floor. I was so immersed in the pages of a potential gem that I almost didn’t hear them.
Two voices were making their way toward me, speaking in hushed tones.
“Shut up. I swear I heard something up here.”
“If I scaled that damn rope for nothing, I swear I will slit your throat myself.”
Every muscle in my body tensed as the distinctly male voices drifted through the aisles. Careful not to make a sound, I slipped the book into my bag and peeked through a gap in the books. Their backs were turned to me, the black leather of their coats splattered in red. Both men were hulking in size, my head probably even with their chests. The taller one had a red mohawk with feathers dangling from it. The other was bald with deep scars that covered the entire left side of his head like angry red fissures. Both of them had an obscene amount of metal piercings protruding from their skin. My hair rose on end.
Ravagers.
What the hell were they doing here? Panic prickled in the pit of my stomach. The vent leading to safety was nearly five rows over across the aisle; there was no way to make it there without being seen. Why hadn’t I brought my gun? I cursed myself as their eyes scanned the empty rows.
“I smell fear.” One of them taunted, his gruff voice no longer whispering.
They cackled with delight.
I swallowed hard. Even if it was just a farce to scare me, it was working, my pulse accelerating. Punching the other in the shoulder, the one with the mohawk motioned for them to spilt off. My ears began to ring as they moved to either side of my row and progressed towards me. I was trapped. My eyes instantly searched for another route of escape or a place to hide. As their footsteps moved closer, I began to silently climb.
As a child Jennifer loved getting lost in the stories of others, but struggled greatly with reading. A notoriously slow reader who stumbled with words and spelling, Jennifer shied away from books, leaning heavily on musical theater and movies to get her inspirational fix.
It was not until in her mid-teens, when a persistent friend convinced her to read the Harry Potter series, that Jennifer found her love for the written word. J.K. Rowling’s books opened doors not only to the fascinating world of a young wizard, but to a life filled with a multitude of literary friends and fantastical worlds. Once a timid reader, Jennifer now devours books and loves getting lost in a new series.
Jennifer had wanted to write her own novel since her early twenties, but unfortunately inspiration doesn’t always strike on command. Her first book, The Chosen, was completed in 2013. But as most first attempts go, it was a flop. While looking through a multitude of rejection letters, inspiration struck again, putting Grace’s story got on hold as Phoenix’s began.
New World: Rising began to fill Jennifer’s brain, flowing like a fully opened valve from her fingertips. What was once such a struggle in her early years suddenly became a passion.
When Jennifer is not writing, she is enjoying life in Colorado, rock climbing, camping, exploring new foods, playing with her golden retriever, Duke, and sharing her life with her handsome and wonderful husband.
Author Links
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Author’s Other Works
New World Series
New World: Rising
New World: Ashes Coming Soon
The Chosen Series
The Chosen Coming Soon
The Lost Coming Soon
