Title:
Branded (Sinners #1) by Abi Ketner & Missy Kalicicki
Genre: YA
Dystopian Romance
Summary:
Twenty years ago the
Commander came into power and murdered all who opposed him. In his warped mind,
the seven deadliest sins were the downfall of our society. He created the Hole
where sinners are branded according to their sins and might survive a few
years. At best.
Now LUST wraps around my neck like blue fingers strangling me. I’ve been accused of a crime I didn’t commit and now the Hole is my new home.
Now LUST wraps around my neck like blue fingers strangling me. I’ve been accused of a crime I didn’t commit and now the Hole is my new home.
Darkness. Death. Violence.
Pain.
Now, every day is a fight for
survival. But I won’t die. I won’t let them win.
The Hole can’t keep me. The Hole can’t break me.
I am more than my brand. I’m a fighter.
My name is Lexi Hamilton, and this is my story.
The Hole can’t keep me. The Hole can’t break me.
I am more than my brand. I’m a fighter.
My name is Lexi Hamilton, and this is my story.
Author Bio:
Abi and Missy met in the
summer of 1999 at college orientation and have been best friends ever since.
After college, they added jobs, husbands and kids to their lives, but they
still found time for their friendship. Instead of hanging out on weekends, they
went to dinner once a month and reviewed books. What started out as an
enjoyable hobby has now become an incredible adventure.
Links:
Website: http://www.abiandmissy.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AbiandMissy
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AbiandMissy
Goodreads Link:
Book Trailer:
Excerpt:
Chapter One
I’m buried six feet under,
and no one hears my screams.
The rope chafes as I loop it
around my neck. I pull down on it, making sure the knot is secure. It seems
sturdy enough.
My legs shake. My heart beats
heavy in my throat. Sweat pours down my back.
Death and I glare at each
other through my tears.
I take one last look at the
crystal chandelier, the foyer outlined with mirrors, and the flawless
decorations. No photographs adorn the walls. No happy memories here.
I’m ready to go. On the count
of three.
I inhale, preparing myself
for the finality of it all. Dropping my hands, a glimmer catches my eye. It’s
my ring, the last precious gift my father gave me. I twist it around to read
the inscription. Picturing his face forces me to reconsider my choice. He’d be
heartbroken if he could see me now.
A door slams in the hallway,
almost causing me to lose my balance. My thoughts already muddled, I stand,
waiting with the rope around my neck. Voices I don’t recognize creep through
the walls.
Curiosity overshadows my
current thoughts. It’s late at night, and this is a secure building in High
Society. No one disturbs the peace here—ever. I tug on the noose and pull it
back over my head.
Peering through the eyehole
in our doorway, I see a large group of armed guards banging on my neighbors’
door. A heated conversation ensues, and my neighbors point toward my family’s
home.
It hits me. I’ve been accused
and they’re here to arrest me.
My father would want me to
run, and in that split second, I decide to listen to his voice within me.
Flinging myself forward in fear, I scramble up the marble staircase and into my
brother’s old bedroom. The door is partially covered, but it exists. Pushing
his dresser aside, my fingers claw at the opening. Breathing hard, I lodge
myself against it. Nothing. I step back and kick it with all my strength. The
wood splinters open, and my foot gets caught. I wrench it backward, scraping my
calf, but adrenaline pushes me forward. The voices at the front door shout my
name.
On hands and knees, I squeeze
through the jagged opening. My brother left through this passage, and now it’s
my escape too. Cobwebs entangle my face, hands, and hair. At the end, I feel
for the knob, twisting it clockwise. It swings open, creaking from disuse. I
sprint into the hallway and smash through the large fire escape doors at the
end. A burst of cool air strikes me in the face as I jump down the ladder.
Reaching the fifth floor, I
knock on a friend’s window. The lights flicker on, and I see the curtains move,
but no one answers. I bang on the window harder.
“Let me in! Please!” I say,
but the lights darken. They know I’ve been accused and refuse to help me. Fear
and adrenaline rush through my veins as I keep running, knocking on more
windows along the way. No one has mercy. They all know what happens to sinners.
Another flight of stairs
passes in a blur when I hear the guards’ heavy footfalls from above. I can’t
hide, but I don’t want to go without trying.
Help me, Daddy. I need
your strength now.
My previous desolation
evolves into a will to survive. I have to keep running, but I tremble and gasp
for air. I steel my nerves and force my body to keep moving. In a matter of
minutes, my legs cramp and my chest burns. I plunge to the ground, scraping my
knee and elbow. A moan escapes from my chest.
Gotta keep going.
“Stop!” Their voices bounce
off the buildings. “Lexi Hamilton, surrender yourself,” they command. They’re
gaining on me.
I resist the urge to glance
back, running into what I assume is an alley. I’m far from our high-rise in
High Society as I plunge into a poorer section of the city where the streets
all look the same and the darkness prevents me from recognizing anything. I’m
lost.
My first instinct is to leap
into a dumpster, but I retain enough sense to stay still. I crouch and peek
around it, watching them dash by. The abhorrent smell soon leaves me vomiting
until nothing remains in my stomach. Desperation overtakes me, as I know my
retching was anything but silent. My last few seconds tick away before they
find me. Everyone knows about their special means of tracking sinners.
I push myself to my feet and
look left, right, and left again. Their batons click against their black,
leather belts, and their boots stomp the cement on both sides of me. I shrink
into myself. Their heavy steps mock my fear, growing closer and closer until I
know I’m trapped.
Never did I imagine they’d
come for me. Never did I imagine all those nights I heard them dragging someone
else away that I’d join them.
“You’re a sinner,” they say.
“Time to leave our society.”
I stand defiant. I refuse to
bend or break before them even as I shiver with fear.
“There’s no reason to make
this difficult. The more you cooperate, the smoother this will be for
everyone,” a guard says.
I cringe into the blackness
along the wall. I’m innocent, but they won’t believe me or care.
The next instant, my face
slams into the pavement as one guard plants a knee in my back and another
handcuffs me. A warm liquid trails into my mouth. Blood. Their fingers grip my
arms like steel traps as they peel me off the cement. The tops of my shoes
scrape along the ground as I’m dragged behind them until they discard me into
the back of a black vehicle. The doors slam in unison with one guard stationed
on each side of me, my shoulders digging into their arms. The handcuffs dig
into my wrists, so I clasp them together hard behind me and press my back into
the seat, unwilling to admit how much it hurts. My dignity is all I have left.
Swallowing hard, I stare
ahead to avoid their eyes.
Did they need so many
guards to capture me?
I’m not carrying any weapons,
nor do I own any. I don’t even know self-defense. High Society frowns on
activities like that.
The driver jerks the vehicle
around and I try to keep my bearings, but it’s dark and the scenery changes too
fast. Hours pass and the air grows warmer, more humid, the farther we drive.
The landscape mutates from city to rolling hills. They don’t bother
blindfolding me because they escort all the sinners to the same place—the Hole.
Twenty-foot cement walls encase the chaos within. There’s no way out and no way
in unless they transport you. They say the Hole is a prison with no rules. We
learned about it last year in twelfth grade.
To the outside, I’m filth
now. I’ll never be allowed to return to the life I knew. No one ever does.
“All sinners go through a
transformation,” one of the guards says to me. His smirk infuriates me. “I’m
sure you’ve heard all kinds of stories.” I don’t respond. I don’t want to think
about the things I’ve been told.
“You won’t last too long,
though. Young girls like you get eaten alive.” He pulls a strand of my hair up
to his face.
Get your hands off me, you
pig. I want to lash out, but resist.
The punishment for disobeying authority is severe, and I’m not positioned to
defy him.
They’re the Guards of the
Commander. They’re chosen from a young age and trained in combat. They keep the
order of society by using violent methods of intimidation. No one befriends a
guard. Relationships with them are forbidden inside the Hole.
Few have seen the commander.
His identity stays under lock and key. His own paranoia and desire to stay pure
drove him to live this way. He controls our depraved society and believes
sinners make the human race unforgivable. His power is a crushing fist,
rendering all beneath him helpless. So much so, even family members turn on
each other when an accusation surfaces. Just an accusation. No trial, no
evidence, nothing but an accusation.
I lose myself in thoughts of
my father.
“Never show fear, Lexi,” my
father said to me before he was taken. “They’ll use it against you.” His
compassionate eyes filled with warning as he commanded me to be strong. That
was many years ago, but I remember it clearly. My father. My rock. The one
person in my life who provided unconditional love.
The vehicle stops, and I’m
jerked back to reality. “Get out,” the guard orders while pulling me to my
feet. The doors slide open and the two guards lift me up and out into the
night. A windowless cement building looms in front of us, looking barren in the
darkness.
The coolness of the air sends
a shiver up my spine. This is really happening. I’ve been labeled a sinner. My
lip starts to quiver, but I bite it before anyone sees. They shove me in line
and I realize I’m not alone. Women and men stand with faces frozen white in
fear. A guard grabs my finger, pricks it, and dabs my blood on a tiny
microchip.
I follow the man in front of
me into the next room where we’re lined up facing the wall. Glancing right, I
see one of the men crying.
“Spread your legs,” one of
the guards says.
They remove my outer layers
and their hands roam up and down my body.
What do they think I could
possibly be hiding? I press my head
into the wall, trying to block out what they’re doing to me.
“MOVE!” a guard commands. So
I shuffle across the room, trying to cover up.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five of us sit in the holding
room. One by one, they pull people into the next room, forcing the rest of us
to wonder what torture we’ll endure. An agonizing amount of time passes. I lean
my head back and try to imagine a place far away. The door opens.
“Lexi Hamilton.”
A guard escorts me out of the
room, and I don’t have time to look back. As soon as the door closes, they pick
me up and place me on a table. It’s cold and my skin sticks to it slightly,
like wet fingers on an ice cube. Then, they exit in procession, and I lie on
the table with a doctor standing over me. His hands are busy as he speaks.
“Don’t move. This will only
take a few minutes. It’s time for you to be branded.”
A wet cloth that smells like
rubbing alcohol is used to clean my skin. Then he places a metal collar around
my neck.
Click. Click. Click.
The collar locks into place,
and I struggle to breathe. The doctor loosens it some as I focus on the painted
black words above me.
The Seven Deadly Sins:
Lust ¾ Blue
Gluttony ¾ Orange
Greed ¾ Yellow
Sloth ¾ Light Blue
Wrath ¾ Red
Envy ¾ Green
Pride ¾ Purple
“Memorize it. Might keep you
alive longer if you know who to stay away from.” He opens my mouth, placing a
bit inside. “Bite this.”
Within seconds, the collar
heats from hot to scorching. The smell of flesh sizzling makes my head spin. I
bite down so hard a tooth cracks.
“GRRRRRRRRR,” escapes from
deep within my chest. Just when I’m about to pass out, the temperature drops,
and the doctor loosens the collar.
He removes it and sits me up.
Excruciating pain rips through me and I’m on the verge of a mental and physical
breakdown. Focus. Don’t pass out.
Stainless steel counters and
boring white walls press in on me. A guard laughs at me from an observation
room above and yells, “Blue. It’s a great color for a pretty young thing like
yourself.” His eyes dance with suggestion. The others meander around like it’s
business as usual.
I finally find my voice and
turn to the doctor.
“Are you going to give me
clothes?” A burning pain spreads like fire from my neck to my jaw, making me
wince.
He points to a set of folded
grey scrubs on a chair. I cover myself as much as I can and scurry
sideways. Grabbing my new clothes, I pull the shirt over my head and try to
avoid the raw meat around my throat. I quickly knot the cord of my pants around
my waist and slide my feet into the hospital-issue slippers as the doctor
observes. He hands me a bag labeled with my name.
“Nothing is allowed through
the door but what we’ve given you,” he says.
I hide my right hand behind
me, hoping no one notices. A guard scans my body and opens his hand.
“Give it to me,” he says.
“Don’t make me rip off your finger.” He crouches down and I turn to stone. I
don’t know what to do, so I beg.
“My father gave this to me.
Please, let me keep it.” I smash my eyes shut and think of the moment my father
handed the golden ring to me.
“It was my mother’s ring,”
he’d said. “She’s the strongest woman I ever knew.” With tears in his eyes, he
reached for my hand. “Lexi, you’re exactly like her. She’d want you to wear
this. No matter how this world changes, you can survive.” I turned the gold
band over in my palm and read the engraving.
You can overcome
anything… short of death.
“You’re going to take the one
thing that matters the most to me?” I say, glaring into the guard’s emotionless
eyes. “Isn’t it enough taking my life, dignity, and respect?”
A hard blow falls upon my
back. As I fall, my hands shoot out to stop me from smashing into the wall in
front of me. The guard bends down and grabs my chin with his meaty fist.
“Look at me,” he commands. I
look up and he smiles with arrogance.
“What the hell?” He staggers
a step backward. “What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with your eyes?”
“Nothing,” I respond,
confused.
“What color are they?”
“Turquoise.” I glower at him.
“Interesting,” he says,
regaining his composure. “Now those’ll get you in trouble.”
Reality slaps me across the
face. I have my father’s eyes. They can’t take them from me. I twist the ring
off my finger and drop it in his hand.
“Take the damn ring,” I say.
I walk to the door. He swipes a card and the massive door slides open to the
outside.
“You have to wear your hair
back at all times, so everyone knows what you are.” He hands me a tie, so I
pull my frizzy hair away from my face and secure it into a ponytail. My neck
burns and itches as my hand traces the scabs that have already begun to form.
Squinting ahead into the darkness, I almost run into a guard standing on the
sidewalk.
“Watch where you’re going,”
he says, shoving me backward. His stiff figure stands tall and I cringe at the
sharpness of his voice.
“Cole, this is your new
assignment, Lexi Hamilton. See to it she feels welcome in her new home.” The
guard departs with a salute.
“Let’s move,” Cole says.
I take two steps and collapse,
my knees giving out. The unforgiving pavement reopens the scrapes from earlier
and I struggle to stand. A powerful arm snatches me up, and I see his face for
the first time.
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