Synopsis
Back in New York City, piano filled Sami McGovern’s life, but moving upstate has changed everything. Thanks to the coach at Skenesboro High, Sami’s volleyball skills blossom like magic. But success comes at a cost, and the same sports drink that makes her a superstar silences her music. Worse still, to stay in the “in” crowd, she must betray the few true friends she has made in the tiny town. Her one hope: fulfill a prophecy to end the magic before it destroys her . . . and everyone else in its thrall.
Buy Link
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Forte-JD-Spero-ebook/dp/B00Z2BXC52/
Johannah Davies (JD) Spero was born near a pristine lake in the Adirondacks and has lived in various cities such as St. Petersburg (Russia), Indianapolis, Dallas, and Boston. She has pursued her love of narrative through degrees in English, Russian, and teaching—and has worked as an actress, a yoga instructor, a web design entrepreneur, freelance writer, and a high school English teacher. She lives in the Northeast with her husband and three young sons.
Drawing on her experience as a high school teacher—this time with a social concern, Spero infuses the rites of passage for the teenager—cliques, first kisses, peer pressure, and bullying—with magic. This stresses how tenuous and critical this time is for young people in a new, fascinating way. Written from Sami’s point of view, Spero’s narrative puts the reader into the mind of a fifteen-year-old who must navigate the tumultuous waters of being the new girl—the underdog who starts to win and is intoxicated by it. Truly a page-turner, this action-packed story will have readers of all ages eager to see what happens next.
Spero’s debut novel, Catcher’s Keeper, was chosen as a Finalist in the 2014 Indie Excellence Book Awards contest and also made the top 5% out of 10,000 entries in the 2013 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award.
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Excerpt
Main character, Sami
McGovern, a natural musician is recruited to try out for volleyball.
Finally,
the time has come. I ride the giant wave to the locker room, letting myself get
sucked into the energy. It’s like every single freshman girl is going to
tryouts. The excitement is contagious. The locker room has transformed into a
sort of primping party. It’s a more amped up version of backstage before one of
my piano recitals. I’m giggling as I change into gym clothes and follow the
others onto the court.
But I
stop short on the sidelines.
Payne
has the girls running the court lengthwise, tapping the endline paint with
their fingers, and running back. What’s this exercise called again? I see
Maddie, Shaunie, and Thalia. Pixie is here too, looking miserable. She’s not
awful, though.
“Nice
work, Maddie,” Payne calls across the gym.
Okay, so
Payne has favorites. No biggie. Has she already made the cuts? I have better
chances trying out for the New York Philharmonic. What am I thinking? I’m no
athlete. They’re all going to laugh at me. Maybe it’s not too late to make a
quick exit.
“Are you
playing?” asks a voice beside me.
My eyes
don’t leave the court. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just watch.”
“Me,
too, then.”
“Why?” I
turn and am startled to see it’s the girl with the scarred neck.
“I
thought you might want a friend.”
The
scars look terrifying up close—shiny, raw strings of bumpy tissue that used to
be skin. My mouth is stuck open, and I blink like mad.
“I’m
Brenna,” she says with a huge smile. “Sports aren’t really my thing.”
“Sami.”
A tiny wave. “Me, neither.”
“What
are we doing here, then?” She laughs.
“You
have a really nice smile.”
“You
sound surprised,” she teases.
I must
turn redder than her scars, my face is so hot. Because it’s true. I was
surprised. Am surprised. It’s wrong, but I can’t help it.
Payne’s
whistle interrupts us. “You girls joining tryouts or just socializing in your
gym clothes?”
No time
for apologies. Payne’s eyes are focused solely on me. “Come on. You’ve missed
the warm up. On the court now. Let’s go.”
A
nervous laugh with Brenna, and I concede. Whatever. This tryout is another
orientation thing, right? A rite of passage for the new girl. It will be over
soon, and I’ll go home and use my fingers the way they were meant to be used.
Piano. What kind of tune will I conjure, what will my muse inspire? I’m
daydreaming as I wander into the middle of the court.
Payne’s
voice rings louder than her whistle.
“No,
Sami. Right in front.”
In
front? Me?
Payne
grasps my shoulders to place me at the net when I feel something strange. My
chest tightens with panic—a force enters me, making my insides quiver. What’s
happening?
Zap!
A jolt,
vibration. A charge surging out from my chest to my fingertips, my toes.
Zing!
The
faces around me blur, but the ball is radiant. A blue glow. The ball sails over
the net. Bumped. Set. To me? I leap, and it’s like my feet sprout wings. Out of
nowhere I reach and—
Pow!
It slaps
the opposite court untouched. A clean strike.
“Point,”
Payne cheers.
My body
tingles. How on earth did I do that? And then I do it again.
I zone
in. That neat leather ball leaves a laser-blue contrail as it’s punched into
the air. I know what will happen next. I can predict its path! Am I the only
one who sees it glow like that?
Bump,
set, spike!
Wahoo!
I’m a giant, tapping a ping-pong ball with my big paw. Easy. I’m above
everything. Everyone. Even Brenna—the one person who’s tried to be my
friend—now wears a worried grin. Something has separated us.
I’m
separate from everyone.
The ball
comes again. Soaring, my hand curved in perfect form, I guide it over at
cheetah-speed that somehow feels slow. My arm retracts within a millimeter of
the net, but it feels like yards away.
Pow!
Everyone
cheers. For me.
How did
I get so good?
My eyes
go to Payne, who’s already studying me. As much as I want to, I cannot turn
away. My arms and legs tingle—itching to move, to play ball. The veins in my wrists
pulse like a heartbeat. My birthmark throbs on my hand, ready to throttle that
volleyball. I make fists, trying to contain it.
I stare
back at Payne, the question ringing loudly in my mind: Did you do this?
She
gives me a slow, wry smile. Goose bumps rise on my suddenly-athletic arms.
I think
I’ve just made the team.
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