Don't Look Back By Jennifer L. Armentrout
Published: April 15th 2014
Genre: YA Psychological Thriller
Blurb:
Samantha is a stranger in her own life. Until the night she disappeared with her best friend, Cassie, everyone said Sam had it all—popularity, wealth, and a dream boyfriend.
Sam has resurfaced, but she has no recollection of who she was or what happened to her that night. As she tries to piece together her life from before, she realizes it's one she no longer wants any part of. The old Sam took "mean girl" to a whole new level, and it's clear she and Cassie were more like best enemies. Sam is pretty sure that losing her memories is like winning the lottery. She's getting a second chance at being a better daughter, sister, and friend, and she's falling hard for Carson Ortiz, a boy who has always looked out for her—even if the old Sam treated him like trash.
But Cassie is still missing, and the facts about what happened to her that night isn't just buried deep inside of Sam's memory—someone else knows, someone who wants to make sure Sam stays quiet. All Sam wants is the truth, and if she can unlock her clouded memories of that fateful night, she can finally move on. But what if not remembering is the only thing keeping Sam alive?
“This engrossing thriller packs a heady atmospheric punch with plenty of theatrical scares,” Kirkus Reviews
“Armentrout has written another winner. From the first page to the last, she builds both terror and confusion to the point where readers will be hooked and on the edge of their seat. This standalone contains all of Armentrout’s usual trademarks– a strong and determined heroine, witty comments and hot guys–but she adds in an extra layer by ratcheting up the suspense to the highest degree and follows it up with an ending no one will see coming.” RT BOOK REVIEWS 4 1/2 Stars TOP PICK
BUY LINKS:
EXCERPT:
I
didn’t recognize the name on the street sign. Nothing about the rural road
looked familiar or
friendly.
Tall, imposing trees and overgrown weeds choked the front of the dilapidated
home.
Windows
were boarded up. There was a gaping hole where the front door had been. I
shivered, wanting
to be far away from here…wherever here was.
Walking felt harder than it should be, and I
stumbled off the chilly asphalt, wincing as
sharp
gravel dug into my feet.
My bare feet?
I stopped and looked down. Chipped pink nail polish
peeked through the dirt…and blood.
Mud
caked the legs of my pants, leaving the hems stiff. It made sense, seeing as
how I wasn’t
wearing
any shoes, but the blood…I didn’t understand why there was blood staining the
knees of
my
jeans.
My vision clouded and dulled, as if a gray film had
been dropped over my eyes. As I
stared
at the weathered asphalt under my feet, large and smooth rocks replaced the
tiny stones.
Something
dark and oily seeped over the rocks, slipping through the cracks.
Sucking in a sharp gasp, I blinked and the image
was gone.
Hands trembling, I raised them. They were also
covered with dirt and scratches. My nails were
broken, bloodied. A silver ring wrapped, encased in soil, around my thumb. Air
froze in my chest
as my gaze crawled over my arms. The sleeves of my sweater were torn, revealing
pale flesh
covered in bruises and gashes. My legs started to shake as I swayed forward. I
tried to remember
how this had happened, but my head was empty—a black void where nothing
existed.
A car drove by, coasting to a stop a few feet in
front of me. Somewhere in the trenches of
my
subconscious, I recognized the flashing red and blue lights as a source of
safety. Elegantly
scrawled
along the black-and-gray side of the cruiser were the words ADAMS COUNTY
SHERIFF’S DEPARTMENT.
Adams County? A flash of familiarity came and went.
The driver’s door opened, and a deputy stepped out.
He said something into the radio on his
shoulder before he looked at me.
“Miss?” He started around the cruiser, taking
tentative steps. He looked young for a
deputy.
Barely out of high school and able to carry a gun seemed wrong somehow. Was I
in high
school?
I didn’t know. “We’ve received some calls into dispatch concerning you,” he
said
gently.
“Are you okay?”
I tried to respond, but only a hoarse squeak came
out. Clearing my throat, I winced as the motion
scratched and pulled. “I…I don’t know.”
“Okay.” The deputy held up his hands as he approached
me, as if I were a skittish deer about
to bolt. “My name is Deputy Rhode. I’m here to help you. Do you know what
you’re doing out
here?”
“No.” Knots formed in my belly. I didn’t even know
where here was.
His smile strained. “What’s your name?”
My name? Everyone knew their name, but as I stared
at the deputy, I couldn’t answer his question.
The knots started twisting more. “I don’t…I don’t know what my name is.”
He blinked, and the smile was completely gone. “You
don’t remember anything?”
I tried again, concentrating on the empty space
between my ears. That was how it felt.
And I
knew that wasn’t good. My eyes started to tear up.
“Miss, it’s okay. We’ll get you taken care of.” He
reached out, lightly taking hold of my
arm.
“We’ll get this sorted.”
Deputy Rhode led me around the back of his cruiser.
I didn’t want to sit behind the
Plexiglas,
because I knew that wasn’t good. Only bad people sat behind the glass in police
cruisers.
I wanted to object, but before I could say anything, he settled me into the
seat and
wrapped
a coarse blanket around my shoulders.
Before he locked me in the bad part of the car, he
knelt and smiled reassuringly.
“Everything’s
going to be okay.”
But I knew he was lying, trying to make me feel
better. It didn’t work. How could
everything
be okay when I didn’t know my own name?
~~~~~~
About Jennifer L. Armentrout:
# 1 NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY Bestselling author Jennifer lives in Martinsburg, West Virginia. All the rumors you’ve heard about her state aren’t true. When she’s not hard at work writing. she spends her time reading, working out, watching really bad zombie movies, pretending to write, and hanging out with her husband and her Jack Russell Loki.
Her dreams of becoming an author started in algebra class, where she spent most of her time writing short stories….which explains her dismal grades in math. Jennifer writes young adult paranormal, science fiction, fantasy, and contemporary romance. She is published with Spencer Hill Press, Entangled Teen and Brazen, Disney/Hyperion and Harlequin Teen. Her book Obsidian has been optioned for a major motion picture and her Covenant Series has been optioned for TV.
She also writes adult and New Adult romance under the name J. Lynn. She is published by Entangled Brazen and HarperCollins.
Links:
Website: http://www.jenniferarmentrout.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/jlarmentrout
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