Hello everyone! It's Monday, and I have an awesome blog tour to help kick start the week. I know we all hate Mondays, but hopefully this will brighten your day!
Naked As We Came by
Amberly Wynn
My rating:
5 of 5 stars
Publisher: Amberly Wynn
Date Published: January 21st 2013
Genre: Young Adult Sci-Fi
My thoughts on this book are very muddled. It is a wonderful book. The style of writing was easy to read and relate to, and the writing itself was beautifully done. This story was amazing in so many ways. It's a very sad story, and I'm having a hard time getting past the sadness.
This is a futuristic book from the viewpoint of Cassidy. Most humans have left Earth to go to Nyx, a freezing cold planet that has the means of sustaining human life. Earth is virtually a wasteland of the dead. Then the colony gets attacked by natives of the planet and some are taken as slaves and the others killed. Cassidy of course is in the first group.
I guess the sad part of this book is that everyone is killed or kills others so easily, over such simple things we all take for granted. If any of you guys do read this book, you will never again fell self-pity.
And it reminds me a lot of what happened with Hitler and the Holocaust. It's beautiful, an amazing read, but it's a heart-wrenching story too. It makes you think 'What would I do in this situation?'
I've always thought that if anything like this ever happened, I'd say 'Fuck you. I'd rather die a free women than live as a slave.' But then you see how scared the characters are. And Cassidy--damn--Cassidy is fierce. And yet she is scared shitless at times. It makes me think that as much as I'd like to think I'd be different, I wouldn't. I'd be scared shitless too.
I love this book. It's one of those books that you won't forget about. It's one that you'll think on for a long time. It's a 'what if' kind of book. This is all in the realm of possibility for the future. I just hope I'm not around to see it.
Overall, I think you should read it. And not all parts in the book are bad. A lot of them made me smile and laugh. I think the idea was really creative and I hope to read more in the future.
View all my reviews
And now I have an excerpt of the book as well! Yay!
CHAPTER 1
Tariq’s screams wake me.
I jerk up in a daze,
colliding headfirst with the frame of the top bunk. The whole wooden bed
trembles in rhythm with Tariq’s thrashing body. It wouldn’t surprise me if he
rolled out of bed and hit the floor. Poor kid. This is the third cold he’s had
this month.
It’s no wonder why. The fire
is a smolder. Nothing but ashes burns in the belly of the furnace across the
room. He’s probably freezing to death up there.
“Cassidy, are you up yet?” Mama shouts. Her
voice quavers from the other side of my bedroom door when she knocks. She’s
catching a cold too.
We’re all on the same
schedule for cold season this year. It’s not unusual these days. Born and
raised in southern Arizona, none of us have gotten used to planet Nyx’s
everlasting winter. But it’s a sacrifice we had to make to keep from perishing
on Earth with the others.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m up.” But
I’m not. I remain in bed, basking in the small ray of warm light casting a
gleam onto the dull hardwood floors. Tariq gasps again, this time, crying out
as his coughs amplify.
On my tiptoes I look onto
the top bunk. There, my little brother lays cocooned in the tattered quilts,
shivering, but sound asleep nonetheless.
“Hey, little bug, are you
okay?” I coo. He doesn’t move. I lean in, wondering if he’s even still
breathing. “Tariq? Come on, it’s time to wake up.”
He rolls over and I note the
purple tint in his brown cheeks and the yellowing hue of his eyes. This doesn’t
look like an ordinary cold.
“Tar, wake up.” He doesn’t
answer. I put my hand to his forehead. “Geez, boy, you’re cold as ice. Are you
okay? Answer me!”
There’s a pause then a gasp
and he coughs, spraying blood through his teeth.
“Oh my god.” I unravel him
from the sheath of blankets and tote him down the narrow hallway into Mama’s
bedroom. She’s all ready for the day and fixing her hair into a bun when I stop
in her doorway, knocking on the frame.
“Mama, something’s wrong
with Tariq.”
She sighs. “This weather is
getting the best of all of us, isn’t it?”
“He’s not breathing,” I say
and she scurries over, snatching him out of my arms to rest him atop her sunken
burlap cot. In a matter of seconds, she checks for a pulse then vitals, putting
all of her previous nursing school training to good use.
“Get me water and a towel,”
she says. “Hot water, now, Cassidy!”
I rush out, grabbing a tin
bucket from the hallway cupboard, full speed from the hut, neglecting a coat or
even a pair of socks. The moment my toes touch the snow outside, my feet burn
with blisters as the dry ice cooks the skin.
The wind collides, knocking
against my featherweight body so hard that I topple over, forced to crawl the
rest of the way. If the wind were any stronger it’d sweep me into the air as I
forge against it toward the pump behind our hut.
The rusty thing squeaks when
I wind the handle and flushes nothing but brown droplets of water from the
faucet. Crap. Of course. It’s only 5AM. They don’t turn on the water until
eleven.
They don’t even crank up the
underground generators for electricity
until noon. All that talk from before about “conserving our provisions” from
Earth was pointless on a planet that is subzero ninety percent of the time.
I need to think fast. Let’s
see…the Strip opens at six. Around that time, there’ll be a crowd of colonists
already outside the gates fending each other off for the best lumber.
Water isn’t an option for
five more hours. Venturing into the forest for wood isn’t forbidden, but
inadvisable if you have no idea what you’re doing. Whether I like it or not,
braving the inevitable pandemonium at the Strip is all I can do. I rush back
inside. Mama hovers over Tariq in the den, cocooning him in blankets on the
floor in front the last flame of fire smoldering in the furnace.
“Where’s the water?” she asks.
“Cassidy, he’s freezing!”
“There’s no water,” I say.
“The pump is dry until eleven. I’m going to the Strip for firewood, okay?”
“There’s no time for that!”
“We don’t have a choice,
Mama! I have to go. I’ll be back. Keep Tariq as warm as you can. I promise you,
I will be back. Okay?”
She nods. I hurry to my
bedroom and slide a large plastic storage bin from beneath the bottom bunk and
pick out my best coat along with a pair of mukluks, hand-me-downs courtesy of
my older brother, Lonnie.
I dress fast and rush out
onto the porch. The first thing that hits me is the wind. It hits me so hard
that it dries my face. I lick my cracked lips and taste the fleck of dried
blood down the center of a cut. I stuff my hair in handfuls beneath my snowcap,
neglecting the stray strands peeking from under.
Before descending the wooden
porch stairway, I make sure to click close the padlock on the hut door and
check all the windows for locks as well. It’s better this way to keep others in
the colony from getting any ideas.
Thou shalt not covet thy
neighbor’s house isn’t exactly a practiced commandment around here.
I follow the gravel pathway
downward, around the bend of the block. More turf huts dot the edges,
separated, padlocked and boxed into little sections by rusty wire fences. None
of them have smoke in their chimneys which means that either they’re still
asleep or heading to the Strip to wait in line with the rest of us.
I’m hoping for the former.
The longer they sleep in, the fewer people I’ll have to deal with for the day’s
portions. This would be a worthwhile venture it if the wood they threw at us
through the shafts were any good.
Every once and a while
there’s at least one sadistic woodsman that doles out a fine piece of wood that
people swarm over until someone is either shot to death or beaten into
submission.
I’ll take whatever I can get
right now. Even if it’s scraps, I’ll make do with it for Tariq’s sake. After
all, we’ve lived off less. So long as it’s enough to spark a decent flame, I
don’t have a problem with accepting second best today.
Halfway down the path, I see
the usual grey smoke signal through the thorny treetops. Sometimes, when Nyx’s
fog is too thick, the smoke transitions to purple to help fellow colonists see
their way into the Heart.
After landing on Nyx, the
only things we learnt when the schools were built were trades that would only
benefit the colony.
Things like firewood, crop
picking and smoke signals are amongst the curriculum for graduation, insisting
we learn the exact potion formulated for changing the color of smoke to fit
specific situations. Red is for danger. Blue is for weather advisories. Purple
is for times like this when seeing is the utmost importance and pink is an SOS.
It’s amazing what a dash of
food coloring, potassium chlorate oxidizer and lactose can concoct under the
right conditions. I follow the purple smoke in, rounding the gravel pathways
further into the most populated part of my colony, Cere –- the Heart.
Further in, past the
horizontal rows of unmarked huts, the lone Quonset amongst a fleet of wooden
shacks sits in waiting with the purple smoke signal seeping out from its tin
chimney. I smell the fire raging from inside and covet the heat like a dying
flower craving water. I rub my hands together, peeling the dead skin rolling
off my palms.
These daily windburns have
done a number on my skin and caused so much of my complexion to fade in patches
of dry cardboard colored flesh. Once, I was blessed with a brilliant brown
complexion that’s now sallow beige.
If you’d look at me now, you
could almost never tell that I was once teased for being the blackest girl with
the kinkiest hair at school in Arizona. I’m a ghost of my former self in this
weather and on this planet.
I’m not the only one sucking
my cracked lips to keep them from chapping in the wind. There’s already a small
huddle of people gathered before the Quonset. The frosted windows are still
barred shut and the tin log chutes jutting out its sides are clearly
inaccessible.
Nonetheless, there are
already people lying outside the place in makeshift sleeping bags and heavy
coats. The huge sundial hanging from the Quonset’s hood is around forty-five
after five. In a cluster of maybe ten or fifteen people, I figure, I’ve made
some good time.
I can handle a crowd this
small. I think. There aren’t many people here to fight. I remind myself to not
underestimate the company. I stay behind the crowd, burrowing my hands inside
my coat pockets, wondering which strategy I’ll go with from here.
I could make a run for it as
soon as the chutes open, but that would take some quick feet not to mention
some tricky footwork to keep out of the crossfire of others who will be tempted
to do the same thing.
Or I could stay back and out
of the way until the trampling starts. By then wood will be flying from
people’s arms one log at a time. I’m small for my age. I could squeeze into the
crowd unnoticed and retrieve the dropped lumber before anyone catches me.
Yeah, that’s best. It’s best
not to push my luck by getting too cocky. I’ll stay out of the way and pick up
whatever is dropped. As the crowd thickens, I wonder more and more how possible
that plan is. What started as a crowd of fifteen is now a twice the number and
growing by the second.
I don’t have much wiggle
room to maneuver through. I can’t see over the heads of the taller people
blocking my view of the chutes. Still, I stand as far away as I can to wait
with everyone else as dawn casts light over the colony sundial’s sixth hour.
The chutes unlock and the first batch of wood shoots out like torpedoes.
People have to duck to keep
from getting hit. I dodge behind the biggest man I find to shield myself. The
first batch incites the usual brawl. Two men battle it out over one huge log
that’s big enough to fuel a continuous fire for at least two weeks.
The rest of us scatter. We
know better than to get in the way of this once the knife is drawn. I make a
beeline for the opposite direction, dodging the log that flies at my head.
Someone jerks me around. I get out of their way and fall all-fours to search
the ground for dropped wood. Overhead, I watch a nice piece of timber burst
from another one of the chutes.
It’s right in my path,
aiming for me like it’s meant to be mine. I open my arms to catch it then
something hits me from the left and takes me down in a tackle that knocks the
wind out of me. I sit up wheezing as a boy intercepts the wood midair, looks
down at me chuckling then says, “Oops. Better luck next time?”
“Asshole.”
“What was that?”
Holding my stomach, I prop
myself onto my feet. “I called you an asshole.”
“It’s not my fault you’re
slow with poor reflexes.”
“Whatever,” I say. “Take the
wood and get out of my face.” I dust myself off, bruised from limb to ego. All
I want to do is disappear even if it’s with nothing, but my tail between my
legs so I try, but he sidesteps and blocks off my path.
“Wait…you take it,” he says
then shoves the wood at me. “Go on. It’s yours. Take it before I change my
mind.”
“I don’t need your charity.”
“You also don’t need that
attitude either, but we’re all forced to deal with the cards we’re dealt,
right? Besides, there’s no way you’re getting past these other vultures for
anything better. Take the wood.”
“Forget it.”
Again, he shoves the wood in
my direction. I step back. He steps forward.
“Take the damn wood and stop
being so stupid. I’m fast and a good jumper. I can easily catch another piece
of wood.”
“I can catch my own wood,” I
say, determined to do just that. “Now move!”
A second log whizzes over
us. It hits the snow as me and two others scurry toward it. The girl who
reaches it first draws a pocketknife and waves it at the rest of us to keep us
at bay.
As we stagger back, the man
behind her grabs her by the neck and snaps it with one quick motion. In a
matter of seconds, he swipes the wood and rushes off. I stand still holding my
breath. The boy steps in front of me and drops the log into my arms.
“Here,” he says. “Someone
has gotta show some humanity around here.”
I don’t reply. I watch as he
disappears back into the crowd. With him gone, my eyes return to the girl in
the snow. I bet she’s no older than Tariq and died over a stupid piece of wood.
About the Author
Born and raised as a native of the south, Amberly's spent a life with books and been writing since she could talk. This soft-spoken southern bell is always reading (or eating) something. You can find her near Elvis' hometown smackdab in the heartland of Graceland, Memphis TN.
Her favorite tales come from a plethora of the classics such as Jane Austen and some of today's modern favorites such as John Green. She's a lover of all things YA and enjoys even more putting her own spin on the genre herself.She writes for horror, suspense and sci-fi audiences of all ages and loves every second of this whimsical writer's life.
Amberly's upcoming debut novel, Naked As We Came, is a rousing sci-fi romance set in a time (and place) when humans are the minority on a planet ruled by the vicious Achillai, a humanoid race who aim to enslave.
I hope you enjoyed my stop in the tour! Thanks for stopping by, don't hesitate to leave a comment, and happy reading!
Kacii
Under the Never Sky by Veronica Rossi
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