Happy Hump Day, guys!
Today is my second-ever First Chapter Wednesday. And I’m lucky enough to be part of my zany, wonderful friend Laura A.H. Elliott’s blog tour for her shiny, brand new book, Transfer Student.
TRANSFER STUDENT is the latest novel from Laura A. H. Elliott and will release on Amazon and Barnes & Noble March 20th. Here’s a little bit about the novel with a first chapter excerpt written from Ashley’s POV.
Be sure to read to the end to enter to win the EBOOK GIVEAWAY and this week’s SWAG!
Two Worlds––Two Teens––One Wish
Geek Rhoe and Surfer Ashley would never be friends.
Even if they lived on the same planet.
But, they’ll become so much more.
Earthling Ashley’s world revolves around winning daily popularity contests at Beverly Hills High School and surfing competitions with sweet scholarship prizes that will finally help her break free of her control-freak mother. Ashley never loses. Ashley never wishes on stars. But that changes when her senior class takes a field trip to the Griffith Observatory where Ashley’s conflicting feelings about her predatory best frenemy Tiffany, throws Ashley’s carefully-crafted Queen of B.H.H.S. title under the bus.
Meanwhile on planet Retha, Rhoe misses his dad, loves his mom’s home-cooked Glechy crag with a side of Ory sauce, is desperate to heal his sick brother and wants more than anything to win The Retha New Invention Competition. He and his best friend Yuke have worked for the past two years constructing the teleporting telescope Rhoe started building with his dad before an accident killed him. Rhoe’s never kissed a girl. Rhoe’s hero is the eccentric physicist, Ramay. But that changes when the telescope teleports Rhoe across the universe with an unintended side-effect. Ashley and Rhoe transfer––swap lives––when they make the same wish at the same time.
Popular-surfer-turned-boy-geek alien Ashley must handle life on Retha as Rhoe complete with webbed feet, low-gravity, and an obsession with Yuke, all the while being hunted by Rethan spies and resenting her hairy, flat chest. Boy-geek-turned-popular-surfer Rhoe must fit in at Beverly Hills High School as Ashley, compete in The Laguna Beach Invitational without becoming shark food, dodge boys’ affections, cool his preoccupation with Tiffany and his new body, on his quest to find the healing rocks he believes will save his brother’s life.
If only it were that simple. Some wishes can’t come true. Some have to. How far would you go for someone you love?
In kindergarten, when I drew pictures of the night sky, I pressed hard on my crayon to color every millimeter of manila drawing paper a waxy black. My teacher, Mrs. Turek, would address my starless skies at a parent-teacher conference later that year. Before she knew any better, Mrs. Turek would guide my hand. We’d make small star strokes. When I left gaps where the points should be, she bent down low and tightened her grip. Chanel No. 5 wafted from behind her gnarly ear, an eyelash away. Beyond her pearl earring, just below her way-too-big upper lip, her permanently suntanned finger curled over mine, around the yellow Crayola, and squeezed. No matter how hard I tried, I never could draw yellow stars.
That’s when I started holding things against them, like their existence. When I vowed I’d never wear Chanel No. 5 or pearls. Ever. My classmates drew tons of yellow stars which, of course, they aren’t, and colored every pointy manila spot around them black, hunching closer to their papers with each blinding stroke.
That’s why old people needed glasses. I mean, really.
My Aunt Jenny always searches the stars, expecting some alien Dear Abby will launch a shooting star when she figures out the right way to piece her life back together. Aunt Jenny’s questions don’t have easy answers. Neither do mine. Every night she waits for stardust anyway.
Disney characters wish on stars. Enough said.
People point out constellations I can never quite see. I nod my head, like I do.
Stargazing is fake. Just like yellow stars. Which is why I’m thrilled today. I’m sitting next to my best frenemy Tiffany, stuck in traffic on The Field Trip from Hell to the Griffith Observatory. I slide my window open and almost pop off an acrylic in the freaking process. I hate freeway air and the resulting freeway hair but I hate sweat more.
Every other bus rolling up the Hollywood Hills suffers from yellow-star-drawer infestations. Freaking kindergarteners. All around me. Joy.
In front of Tiff and me, Sean pounds the back of his seat like he’s playing with the Red Hots at The Whisky a Go Go. My head’s a hollowed-out rock with little pebbles inside. Every time Sean slaps the green vinyl my head pebbles rattle into a maraca migraine.
Our bus grinds to a stop. Even on The Field Trip from Hell, I have to look good. Everyone knows me. Everyone likes me. My thighs peel off the seat. I shimmy my jean mini-miniskirt just below my waist and hop down the stairs to the assembled front-of-the-bus crowd. The girls memorize my look and the way I sway my hips. The guys just want to know what’s under the denim.
Keeping my look fresh is how I stay on top. It’s my art.
The Santa Anas flick my product-heavy, straightened, long blonde hair.
“Must be hard being perpetually perfect,” Tiffany says, swiping her curls on top of her head into an alien-slash-homeless hairdo, a kind of moist, scraggily pyramid with a big tuft sticking up like an antenna.
I smile my no-teeth smile, the one reserved for those trying to get back on my good side, like flattery will make me forgive Tiff for dissing me to Sean the other day. Props to my scoop-loving minions.
The sun’s rays bounce off the sidewalk under my sandaled, pedicured feet, and send warm ripples up over my legs. The inlaid golden words, Griffith Observatory, wind around the marble dome ahead, too white in the afternoon sun. All polished and perfect, like me. As if. Forty-million-dollar renovations make things look like they do in dreams and movies. The wind swirls hot under my skirt, but cools my sweaty body. The skyscrapers of Los Angeles march in the distance, alien next to the old-fashioned observatory dome.
My teacher, Miss Carmicheal, thinks today’s a big deal because this yellow-star mecca has been closed for five years.
“Gather around the obelisk!” Miss C says, clapping her hands. The class swarms in the creepy shadow of the statue, a black sword slicing the popular kids from the rest.
Six astronomer statues stand ina circle with their backs to each other and look down on my friends and I like all brainiacs do. The statues’ dead-eyed gaze melts my manicured, blow-dried heart. I’m just as trapped, just as lame as them.
Here’s how to enter to WIN A TRANSFER STUDENT EBOOK here today! Just follow @Laurawriting and tweet: [leave a comment here with your link– Winner announced here tomorrow!]
Can’t wait to read Transfer Student by @Laurawriting Check out the Blog Tour & Giveaway! #teenreads #scifi #romance #ya http://wp.me/P1J9jx-bs
THAT’S NOT ALL:
Every week all comments are entered to win some great swag too! THIS WEEK’S SWAG: Griffith Observatory travel mug, a HOLLYWOOD MAP OF THE STARS, signed bookmarks, Griffith Park Observatory pen & postcards, Space Shuttle Anniversary commemorative coin, a CHOCOLATE MOON PIE, and more! Check out the weekly swag here: http://wp.me/P1J9jx-bs
THIS WEEK’S GIVEAWAY OPEN UNTIL MARCH 13! 6PM PST. 1 swag winner will be picked. Open internationally!
Laura loves writing about enchanted road trips, birthday gifts that are out of this world, and alien romance while eating lots of popcorn. She’s the author of Winnemucca, a small-town fairy tale inspired by her life-long love of a little-known town, Avenal, CA, and her equal love of enchanted teenage road trips. 13 on Halloween is the first book in the Teen Halloween Series. 14 on Halloween, book 2 in the Teen Halloween series, will be released in the summer of 2012. Her new release, TRANSFER STUDENT will be available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble March 20th.
and friend her on Facebook
If Twitter is your thing she’s @Laurawriting (https://twitter.com/#!/Laurawriting)
Or, drop her a line at elliwrite [at] yahoo [dot] com.