Amazon has finally activated the LOOK INSIDE feature for Arclight! YAY! Now you can check out a chunk of the story (with some omitted pages) before you decide to buy the whole thing.
Monday, April 22, 2013
Posted by Josin L. McQuein at 12:00 PM
In honor of ARCLIGHT's almost book birthday, I'm giving away presents! YAY!
I made up a couple of goodie bags to help you survive a world split between light and dark. Each one has:
- A flashlight, for navigating the dark.
- A pair of sunglasses because you need shades in the light.
- A bag of light and a bag of dark M&M (they're plain chocolate, no nuts for those of you who are allergic)
- An Arclight keychain
- An Arclight mousepad
- And, best of all, AN ARCLIGHT ARC!!!
It's all bundled up in an Arclight canvas bag.
So, if you want to be entered in a drawing to win one of the two bags, just leave me a comment below. And please, Tweet and post this on Facebook.
** Arclight has SCARIES!!!**
Eyes appear beside me and before me as I run, shining silver-blue. Fluid faces shift in and out of focus, on even level with my own, then disappear to reform lower, near the ground. I nearly trip on my own feet to stop myself from trampling them.
I dart through a gap in the brush, certain that my leg is ready to quit on me.
For half-a-second, multiple versions of my own face peer back at me, as the Fade try and recreate my features, and I turn away again. Shimmer lines solidify, creating a ghostly barrier of bodies between me and any possible escape route. I can only go where they’ll let me.
Oh God… I’m being herded.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
** Arclight has SADS!!!**
Fret. Loss. Desolation. Incomplete. Stripped. Vacant.
Ripping, tearing - it's a feeling so intense my knees buckle under the force, and at the point I know my bones are about to shatter in their sockets, it stops.
I feel like I'm shrinking or drowning, and totally alone.
Please... somebody has to be somewhere...
But they aren't. No one's anywhere, not even me.
Saturday, April 20, 2013
** Arclight has SILLIES!!!**
"Oops" is not a smart choice of words. In fact, from the look on Anne-Marie's face, "oops" may qualify as the single worst thing that's ever come out of Tobin’s mouth.
"Wait a minute, Annie. Calm down..."
"Duck and cover?" I ask.
"Quickly," Dante says, right before Anne-Marie picks up the can of black paint and tips it over Tobin’s head.
Tobin jabs at her with his paintbrush, leaving a large splotch on her uniform, and she reaches for the closest thing she can get her hands on. She sloshes orange chair paint in Tobin’s direction, but misses wide, hitting one of the younger boys instead.
"Hey!" The boy whose face is now half orange flings the blue paint he's still got in his hand.
Friday, April 19, 2013
**Arclight has SMOOCHIES!**
"You know what... new tactic." I shovel the mess of pages, plus the six inch stack of paper work on the teacher's desk into the open drawer and slam it shut. It takes both of is to latch it. "I say we torch it and claim it all got lost in the chaos."
I face Tobin, and that same jolt goes off like a shock in my chest. I have the sudden desire to look away, but I can't seem to remember how to make my head turn.
Tobin licks his lips. I watch the muscles in his throat as he swallows.
My heels lift off the ground until my weight's on my toes, expectant and strangely hesitant. It's not fear... not exactly, but I'm not quite comfortable with my body remembering how to do something my conscious mind's forgotten.
Every breath draws the scent of him in like oxygen, and then...
Thursday, April 18, 2013
**Arclight has ACTION!**
Lots of it, in fact - like this passage:
"If we have to run, go limp," Tobin says. "I can carry you faster than you can move on your own."
Before I can protest that I don't need to be carried, Tobin gasps, lurching forward as though someone’s shoved him. The force cascades through our chain of hands. Elbows and knees hit hard on the ground, and the yelps that come after are followed by frantic shushing.
"They're through!" Mr. Pace shouts behind us.
At first, I think he's saying everyone's out of the room, but when he empties a cartridge into thin air, I realize he isn't speaking to us at all. The Fade have broken in.
"Move! Move! Move!" Lt. Sykes’ high and nasal voice shouts somewhere in the blackout.
Everything goes to pieces. We've only ever marched in silence with no real sense of urgency or danger. Now we're a hive mind with a massive case of brain freeze. All our drills mean nothing, especially for the youngest children who spill out of the rooms on either side of ours, calling for their parents and crying “Fade!” when they run into us because they can’t see to know we aren’t the enemy.
Their voices are swallowed up by louder sounds as the corridor erupts with gunfire and something that is in no way human.