Today is our stop on The Holders blog tour. You can check out the rest of the tour stops HERE
17-year-old Becca spent her whole life protecting her brother from, well, everything. The abandonment of their father, the so called 'experts' who insist that voices in his head are unnatural and must be dealt with, and the constant threat of being taken away to some hospital and studied like an animal. When two representatives appear claiming to have the answers to Ryland's perceived problem, Becca doesn't buy it for one second. That is until they seem to know things about Ryland and about Becca and Ryland's family, that forces Becca to concede that there may be more to these people than meets the eye. Though still highly skeptical, Becca agrees to do what's best for Ryland.
What they find at St. Brigid's is a world beyond their imagination. Little by little they piece together the information of their family's heritage, their estranged Father, and the legend of the Holder race that decrees Ryland is the one they've been waiting for. However, they are all--especially Becca--in for a surprise that will change what they thought they knew about themselves and their kind.
She meets Alex, a Holder who is fiercely loyal to their race, and for some reason, Becca and Ryland. There's an attraction between Becca and Alex that can't be denied, but her true nature seems destined to keep them apart. However, certain destinies may not be as clear cut as everyone has always believed them to be.
Becca is lost, but found at the same time. Can she bring herself to leave Ryland now that he's settled and can clearly see his future? Will she be able to put the the feelings she has for Alex aside and head back to the US? And can Becca and Ryland ever forgive their father for what he's done?
“And, exactly what do you mean by ‘abilities’?” I asked, growing more skeptical by the minute. “Please don’t tell me you’re talking about comic book-style stuff, like x-ray vision, or flying.”
“Well…” Alex paused, as though he was afraid to continue. “No one can fly, at least not that I’m aware of.”
I stared at him, waiting for him to smile, as obviously this was a joke. But he just sat there, looking back at me without so much as a smirk. “You’re serious with this?” I asked after I was sure there was no punch line coming.
“Yes,” he nodded.
Oh. My. God. And people thought Ryland was crazy? “Yeah,” I said, not sure whether I should be laughing or offended that this guy actually thought I was that stupid, “thanks for the talk, but you and your buddy can go sell psycho somewhere else.”
“Please, I know how it sounds, but–”
“Out,” I clipped, standing, ready to physically remove him if necessary.
“I’ll show you.”
“Show me?” He really wasn’t going to give up.
“Yes. I can show you what I do, if you’ll let me.”
“Okay, fine,” I challenged, almost amused. I sat back down on the bed and crossed my arms, waiting for the show I was more than sure wouldn’t come.
“Thank you,” he smiled, apparently happy with his tiny victory. “It will only take a moment, and then you can decide if you’d like to talk further. I will warn you though, it’s, well, strange, so just try not to freak out or anything, okay?”
“I’ll do my best,” I said flatly.
He walked over to my bedroom door and shut it softly, immediately sending alarm bells ringing in my head. Strange guy… in my room… shutting us in…
“Just so you know, I scream really loud,” I informed him, eyeing the closed door.
“Don’t worry,” he smiled, undeterred by my announcement, “I will stay over here.”
“Do I need to say the magic words?” I asked, hoping my sarcasm would help me ignore the fact that I was actually getting nervous. Of course nothing was going to happen, but he was also taking this way too seriously for a stupid joke.
“No magic words, though it will be easier if you stand,” he said, gesturing to the middle of the floor. I got up and moved to the spot he had indicated in front of him, while he stayed where he was, hands behind his back. “You ready?” he asked after a moment.
I waited quietly for a second or two, thinking maybe he would do or say something, but he didn’t. Nothing happened at all. It was just me and Alex, standing a few feet apart from each other in the middle of my room.”
But then, suddenly, my vision went blurry. Everything in my room seemed to shift out of focus, like there was something in my eye that I needed to blink away. All the colors and shapes began to melt into each other until I couldn’t tell where one thing left off and another began. My eyes flew to Alex thinking that he too would be an edgeless fuzzy blot of color, but he was still there, standing exactly where he was, the only thing in the room, other than myself, that was still crisp and clear.
His eyes met mine, and when he saw that they held only wonder and confusion but no fear, he smiled and the fuzzy blobs of color began to move. The greens sank down to the floor and grew, spreading out under our feet, reaching far beyond the boundaries of my small bedroom. The blues and whites soared upwards, expanding as they went, creating a clear sky high over our heads. Lines, edges, textures, and dimension returned, but in the forms of grass under our feet, clouds in the sky, and water – an entire ocean of it – stretching out over the horizon. Suddenly all the lines were clear again, only now Alex and I were standing on the edge of an enormous cliff. To my left, an ocean swelling and falling with white foam caps on each of its rolling waves; to my right a seemingly endless field of gently sloping hills covered in lush green grass. It was the most beautiful place I had ever seen.
I looked over at Alex, who was still standing a few steps away from me, watching me calmly. “Where are we?” I breathed.
“In your bedroom,” he answered quietly. “What you are seeing are the Cliffs of Moher in Ireland. They’re near St. Brigid’s.”
“You’re doing this?”
Julianna was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and spent the majority of her educational career convinced she would be a musician. However, after receiving her music degree from Edinboro University of Pennsylvania, she realized that she'd been born in the wrong era for her dreams of singing jazz to adoring fans clad in zoot-suits and flapper dresses to come true, and began to wonder if her true calling might be elsewhere.
While Julianna had always excelled in writing throughout school, she'd never considered it a career possibility until about three years ago, when she'd gotten her first story idea and decided to go for it. She grabbed her laptop, started typing away, and has never looked back.