Title: Out of Sync by A. Bin Juran
(Out of Sync #1)
Publication date: October 23rd 2014
Genres: Paranormal Romance, Young Adult
I’m a magical misfit
I won’t let it define me
A bolt-zapping disaster magnet
But at least I’m still trying
The guy I like asked me out
I hoped my luck was changing
Then my coven trials began
…they’re harder than I expected
Now my life hangs in the balance
I don’t know what I’m doing
But I do know this:
I’m not going down without a fight.
‘Out of Sync’ is a YA paranormal romance about a magical misfit who faces her perilous coven trials, falls in love and nearly dies more times than seems polite to mention.
Low grumbles emanated from the creatures circling me, grimly advertising their intent. The sweltering desert heat clung to me like a second skin, causing beads of sweat to trickle into my eyes. I squinted, inadvertently blurring my vision, which posed a problem given that my newly adopted life plan had just been reduced to not ending up as dog food—or whatever you would call the equivalent for wolves. “Nice wolfies . . .” I stammered, the bitter aftertaste of adrenaline lacing the back of my throat. Pointed brownstained teeth snapped at my feet as another wolf lunged closer, its acrid breath filling my airways. I gagged. “You really should have yourself checked; I’ve smelled doggy breath before, but this is taking it to a whole other level,” I ventured, trying my hand at nurturing some rapport as my eyes darted, searching for an escape route. Yellow eyes trailed my movements as drool began to accumulate in anticipation. “Eating me will not improve that smell,” I tried again, jerking my thumb at the breather. Was this really my pitch? I wouldn’t add to your dental value? “I’m not that nutritious, either! Really, I eat a lot of junk,” I lied. I didn’t actually get to do much snacking—though I would have been happy to if anyone ever bothered to send some to my dorm room. One of the wolves slunk closer, grazing my knee with his dry nose. My voice caught as I continued trying to reason with the mongrels. “I’m not all that chewable, either . . . . I’m bonier than I look.” Then I remembered how fond canines were of bones and shut up, shaking my head with disbelief at what was coming out of my mouth just in time to miss a set of snarling jaws hurtling at my throat. Being eaten by a pack of hungry mutts was definitively not the way I wanted to go.I could feel the panic crackle through me, swiftly building up inside me. I tried to regulate my breathing as my fingers itched with electricity. Deciding it was time to take what action I could, I jerked my hands forward, and a bolt of lightning erupted from my hands and into the pack. Yes, it worked! Not only had I managed not to set myself on fire, the bolt had actually landed in the general vicinity of what I’d aimed at! Most of my thunderbolt throwing thus far had been limited to uncontrolled spasms from nerves or anger, so this was quite a feat. But there was no time for an awkward victory dance. The wolves recoiled momentarily from the sudden attack, giving me the opening I had been waiting for. I lunged forward, hurtling my body toward the gap, hoping the light show would afford me enough time to reach safety. I scrambled, gathering whatever energy I had left and ran. After a few minutes of frantic chase, I perceived a discoloration in the distance. I set my sights on reaching that goal as the wolves shadowed my movements, gnashing their ravenous jaws all around me. As I gained ground, I could make out more detail in the bleak colors. The discoloration was a cave. The wolves were behind me, but I was closer. I would make it, I told myself; I had to. Hope spread, infecting my mind and expanding my lungs, blinding me.Reality, however, sank its filthy teeth into me. I yelped in agony as the pain shot through me. My legs buckled beneath me, and I collapsed into the desert sand, a hair’s breadth from snarling, snapping teeth.
Random facts about the characters of ‘Out of Sync’
o Bree Flint’s hands have a tendency to spark electricity when she’s nervous or agitated.
o Bree’s first brush with magic came at the age of eight, when she accidentally turned her teacher into a toad. Her grandmother, Miranda, has promised the school board that such incidents won’t happen again.
o We’ve received word that Bree Flint has been dubbed ‘the girl most likely to end up in a black hole of her own making.’ Monroe School does not condone the use of such language, though we couldn’t in good conscience ask you to sit next to her during Spells class.
o Annabelle Foster, the “makeover specialist,” can work wonders with hair and make-up charms. References and testimonials can be found on her site, as well as ‘before’ and ‘after’ pictures.
o Charlie Cast’s esoteric theories regarding the walking of dogs do not, as rumored, require canine participation.
o Sophia Lucas’s eye color fluctuates according to her mood. We apologize, but this feature isn’t available in potion or spell form, she was just born that way. And no, her gorgeous golden hair did not come from a bottle either, we asked.
o Reactions to Nate Harper include (but are not limited to) shortness of breath, fluctuation in heartbeat, a sudden (though fleeting) weakness in the knees, and, in one unfortunate case, footinmouth syndrome. Yes, he’s handsome; get over it.
o Lee, the vampire, is an unabashed flirt. He’s not above using his dancing abilities to recruit donors.
When not immersed in books - be it writing or reading them - Ainat can usually be found nestling a cup of coffee in the company of her husband and twins. A former fast-food employee, T-shirt seller, and glorified secretary, Ainat eventually found herself with Bachelor's and LL.M. degrees and working as a lawyer. A few years later, listening to a catchy pop song about dream fulfillment, Ainat decided to buy a clunky little laptop and get to work. Ten novels and a much better laptop later, she came to the realization that hitting the double-digit mark meant it was time to publish and start consuming coffee (though not necessarily in that order).
When she isn't writing, editing, or mothering, Ainat enjoys reading promiscuously (which, to her, means she's reading several novels at a time while committing to none), watching political dramas and sci-fi series, and taking embarrassing memos-to-self complete with accents and dramatic pauses that should never be unleashed, ever.