Abigail Shelton is dead.
Spring Valley's golden girl is found floating face-down in her boyfriend’s pool, hands bound behind her back, head bleeding, drugs and alcohol in her system. Her friends are the only suspects – and they all have reasons to want her dead. Everyone has an alibi, but no one is innocent.ALIBI is a 4-part young adult e-book series. Each one-hundred page installment reveals the perspective of a different character: the secret love, the nemesis, the boyfriend, the best friend. As their tales unfold, we learn that Abby is not as perfect as everyone believes, but she’s not the only one with secrets to hide. This page-turning tale of suspense, betrayal, murder, and lust will keep fans of Gossip Girl and Pretty Little Liars up and reading well past curfew.
If you haven't picked up the ALIBI series yet... seriously, what are you waiting for? It's a fun, suspenseful, sexy and amazingly crafted series that you're not going to want to put down that easily! As a part of the ALIBI blog tour, I'm excited to feature an excerpt from Volume IV of the ALIBI series, which is in Rowan's perspective.
My thoughts about Rowan, as stated in my ALIBI: The Complete Series review:
Oh my god, Rowan. I hated this girl. I hated her in the other volumes and hated her even more when we were shown the events from her perspective. I got to know so much more about the other characters while seeing the events through Rowan's eyes. For one thing, there were parts conveniently omitted by one of the characters in the initial parts and Rowan's perspective made me get the full picture about this person.
Until Charles came along, all of high school, most especially the boys who went there, were well deserving of the intense disdain Rowan harbored for them. But on the first day of school there was a new student, a tall, disarming Australian who had a locker next to hers. He reached over her shoulder and pulled one of her books from her locker, while Rowan stood there dumbfounded by his boldness and his intense blue eyes.
“Social Networking and Sociology,” he read from the cover in his delectable accent. “That’s an interesting topic.”
Rowan could only stare. He was startlingly handsome. She wasn’t sure he was actually talking to her. He was flipping through the book, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“Yes, it’s really good,” she said quietly, her voice a little strangled by her surprise. “I’m reading it for a project I’m working on.”
“Is that a fact?” he said, seeming to be genuinely interested.
“Yeah, a new kind of social network,” she said cagily.
“What’s new about it?”
“Well, just because our online society affords us the opportunity to reinvent ourselves, even create new identities from thin air, that’s no reason why anyone should be able to pass that personality off as their ‘true’ self,” she said with air quotes. She’d never used air quotes before.
“Yeah,” he said. “Seriously, forget Facebook. Someone should invent a social networking site that makes it next to impossible for anyone to lie about themselves. Warts and all. That’s how it should be.”
“Exactly,” she said. “I’m actually working on an algorithm…”
The bell announcing the next class pealed down the hall, making her jump.
“I’m Charles, by the way.” He stuck out his big hand. “Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”
“Rowan,” she said, shaking his hand and staring at him.
“Brilliant to meet you, Rowan,” he said with a big beautiful grin. “See you in a bit.” Then he jogged away from her down the hall, disappearing into a sea of kids. She just stood there, immobilized by the strange giddiness that bubbled inside her. The school year was off to an interesting start.
She rushed to her locker between classes, worried that she’d miss him. She tried to resist the strange sense of urgency she felt about Charles, but every time she approached their lockers and saw him there, she could feel the thump of her heart under her sternum.
“So,” she asked casually between fourth and fifth periods, “Did Mr. Wayne give his usual lecture about the overdependence on Freudian psychology?”
“Christ,” Charles said, giving her a gorgeous crooked grin and turning his beautiful blue eyes on her. “That man has an axe to grind with the good Doctor Freud, doesn’t he?”
Rowan laughed, feeling her face pull open with a smile. She couldn’t remember the last time she smiled like that. Maybe never. “Right? I mean, I do tend to favor Jung, but you can’t just totally discount Freud’s contributions to the development of modern psychology,” she said, pulling her statistics book from her locker.
“Jung’s all right,” he said. “I’ve just always had a problem buying the whole archetype construct, you know? Like it smacks of predetermination, which I just can’t get on board with.”
The bell announcing the next class period shrieked overhead. Charles leaned toward her and grinned again.
“To be continued, love,” he said with a wink. Then he was gone. Rowan stood at her locker, a dopey grin on her face. Love. She knew it was nothing more than a colloquialism. But he said love.
Can I say swoon along with Rowan?
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