All The Broken Pieces by Cindi Madsen
Entangled Teen
What if your life wasn’t your own?
Liv comes out of a coma with no memory of her past and two distinct, warring voices inside her head. Nothing, not even her reflection, seems familiar. As she stumbles through her junior year, the voices get louder, insisting she please the popular group while simultaneously despising them. But when Liv starts hanging around with Spencer, whose own mysterious past also has him on the fringe, life feels complete for the first time in, well, as long as she can remember.
Liv knows the details of the car accident that put her in the coma, but as the voices invade her dreams, and her dreams start feeling like memories, she and Spencer seek out answers. Yet the deeper they dig, the less things make sense. Can Liv rebuild the pieces of her broken past, when it means questioning not just who she is, but what she is?
Publication Date: December, 2012
Imprint: Entangled Teen
Audience: Young Adult
Novel length: 304 pages
Format: Trade paperback and eBook
Available for pre-order: Amazon | Barnes & Noble
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Absolutely beautiful and definitely intriguing!
Now for an excerpt!
Olivia reached up, feeling the tender spots on her
head. Her fingers brushed across a row of—were those little ridges made of
metal?
“Careful. The staples
are almost ready to come out, but it’s still going to be sore for a while.”
Staples?!Her stomach rolled. I
have staples in my head? She
lowered her now-shaking hand. “Can I get a mirror?”
Mom looked at Dad, then
back at her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not until you’ve healed a
little more.”
Mom patted Olivia’s leg.
“You just relax. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
The two of them left the
room, but when Mom swung the door closed, it didn’t latch. Olivia could hear
their voices in the hall.
“I still think we
should…” She couldn’t make out the rest of Dad’s muffled words. “…know if I can
do this.”
“…late for that,” Mom
said. “We’d lose everything, including…” Her voice faded as they got farther
away. “…have to move.”
Olivia could tell the conversation was tense, but the
words were impossible to decipher now. Holding a hand in front of her face, she
turned it back and forth. A plastic tube ran from her arm to a machine next to
her bed. She peeked into her nightgown and stared in horror at the long red
stripe running down her chest.
Sick.
You’re alive. You shouldn’t be thinking about looks.
Lowering her hand, she
scanned the room. I wonder how my face
looks. From the way Dad stared at me, plus the fact Mom won’t let me see a
mirror, it must be bad.
Brains are more important than looks.
That’s what ugly people say.
Olivia put her hands on her head and squeezed. “Stop it,” she
whispered to her arguing thoughts, hysteria bubbling up and squeezing the air
from her lungs. What was happening to her? Why didn’t she recognize her parents
or know where she was? Who she was?
Tears ran warm trails down her cheeks. “Just make it all stop.”
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