Welcome to YA Scavenger Hunt! This bi-annual event was first organized by author Colleen Houck as a way to give readers a chance to gain access to exclusive bonus material from their favorite authors…and a chance to win some awesome prizes! On this hunt, you not only get access to exclusive content from each author, you also get a clue for the hunt. Add up the clues, and you can enter for our prize–one lucky winner will receive one book from each author on the hunt in my team!But play fast: this contest (and all the exclusive bonus material) will only be online for 120 hours!
Go to the YA Scavenger Hunt page to find out all about the hunt. There are FOUR contests going on simultaneously, and you can enter one or all! I am a part of the PURPLE TEAM–but there is also a gold team, a red team, and a blue team for a chance to win a whole different set of books!
If you’d like to find out more about the hunt, see links to all the authors participating, and see the full list of prizes up for grabs, go to the YA Scavenger Hunt page.
SCAVENGER HUNT PUZZLE
Directions: Below, you’ll notice that I’ve listed my favorite number. Collect the favorite numbers of all the authors on the PURPLE TEAM, and then add them up (don’t worry, you can use a calculator!).
Entry Form: Once you’ve added up all the numbers, make sure you fill out the form here to officially qualify for the grand prize. Only entries that have the correct number will qualify. (Don’t worry all the links are copied below too!)
Rules: Open internationally, anyone below the age of 18 should have a parent or guardian’s permission to enter. To be eligible for the grand prize, you must submit the completed entry form by APRIL 5, 2020, at noon Pacific Time. Entries sent without the correct number or without contact information will not be considered.
To enter my personal giveaway for a FREE copy of the Kingdom of Embers audiobook go here.
READ ALL ABOUT PINTIN DUNN, GET MY NUMBER AND CONTINUE THE HUNT BELOW!
I’m highlighting author Pintip Dunn. Pintip is a New York Times bestselling author of young adult fiction. She graduated from Harvard University, magna cum laude, with an A.B., and received my J.D. at Yale Law School.
A bit about Malice...
What I know: a boy at my school will one day wipe out two-thirds of the population with a virus.
For a bonus deleted scene keep scrolling…
To keep going on your quest for the hunt, you need to check out the next author! Shannon A. Thompson
To find Malice go here
For more about Pintip Dunn go here
Entry Form: Once you’ve added up all the numbers, make sure you fill out the form here to officially qualify for the grand prize. Only entries that have the correct number will qualify.
Bonus deleted scene…
In MALICE, Alice’s absentee mother plays a large role in Alice’s life and decision-making, although her mother never appears in the book. This deleted scene gives you a glimpse of their history and why her mother looms so large in Alice’s mind.
DELETED SCENE
Pills. Rattling in a bottle, the lid being twisted off and snapped back on. Rattle, twist, snap. Again and again and again.
I close my eyes and curl tighter into myself, facing the wall. I want to sleep. The school spelling bee is tomorrow, and Amira promised I could use her special pen, the one with the invisible ink, because I gave her the roasted seaweed strips from my lunch. I’m . . . tired. And what my mom wants — well, it’ll take a whole hour. If I’m lucky.
I pull the blanket over my shoulders. I squeeze my eyes shut. I pretend to be so out of it I can’t hear the racket from the closet of my bedroom — or rather, our bedroom, mine and my mom’s, since she moved her stuff out of the room she used to share with Dad.
But the pills. Will. Not. Stop.
“What is it?” I fling off the covers when I can’t take the rattling anymore. “What’s wrong, Mom?”
My mother gasps, her skeleton shoulders silhouetted in the light spilling from the closet. “Alice. Did I wake you?”
I swallow my sigh. I’m eleven years old, I want to say. Not three. I’m not just going to believe your play-acting anymore.
Because this is pretend — all of it, the pills, the surprise, the drama that’s about to come — and I know my role well. Too well. I’ve only played it a dozen times over the last six months.
“Mom, what are you doing with those pills?” My voice pitches high. Do I sound sufficiently scared? Hope so. Shouldn’t be too hard, because once upon a time, I was terrified. Just not the last three times or so.
She releases a long-suffering breath, one that seems too big for her ever-shrinking body, and shakes a handful of pills onto her palm. The shiny white capsules perfectly catch the light. If I were a movie director, I couldn’t have framed the shot any better.
“Oh darling,” my mother says. “I think it might be time to end it all.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Just like you couldn’t take any more last week. And the time before that, when you were at the end of your rope. Let’s not forget earlier this month, when you couldn’t exist on this plane another minute.
But it doesn’t matter how many times I’ve heard the same words. I know what I have to do.
“Oh, Mom, don’t say that, please.” I launch myself into her arms, tears welling in my eyes. Last time, I had to pinch my side until my eyes smarted, and I ended up with purplish green marks all over my stomach. But this time . . . this time, the tears are real. Except they’re not for her. They’re for me.
“I love you so much. Please, please, please don’t hurt yourself. I don’t know what I would do without you. I need you, Mom. I need you.”
For the next hour, I spew different versions of the same thing. I cry so many tears I’m full-on thirsty. And finally, finally, Mom slides the pills back into the bottle and agrees to come to bed with me.
Exhausted, I crawl under the covers, not even protesting when she presses her icicle feet against my calves.
I shouldn’t look at the time. I know that. No good can come from realizing how late it is. And yet, my eyes drift to the digital clock on my nightstand.
One a.m. Wonderful. I need to be awake in six hours.
Twice now, I’ve fallen asleep at school. One morning, I yawned so much that Mrs. Dean in social studies asked me if I was catching flies with my mouth. She called me in after class and gave me a stern lecture about proper rest. And then, she sent me home with a note for my mother, which I promptly threw in the trash. Who did she think was keeping me up at night?
Mom drops an arm over me, and I snuggle into her embrace. I might be bored of the play-acting, but I wasn’t lying about all of it.
I do love her. I do need her.
I do want her safe from the demons that take over her mind, that dwell in her soul.
I just don’t know how much longer I can hold them off.
To keep going on your quest for the hunt, you need to check out the next author! Shannon A. Thompson
To find Malice go here
For more about Pintip Dunn go here
Entry Form: Once you’ve added up all the numbers, make sure you fill out the form here to officially qualify for the grand prize. Only entries that have the correct number will qualify.