Welcome Abby! #YA #Fantasy #amreading #amreadingfantasy

Abby J. Reed writes young adult science fiction and fantasy novels that ask what if.

She has a degree in English Writing and is drawn to characters with physical limitations due to her own neurological disorder called Chronic Migraine. Her debut novel, WHEN PLANETS FALL, published in 2017 by Soul Mate Publishing.
Abby lives in Colorado with her husband and two fluffy pups. If her hands aren’t on the keyboard, they are stained purple and blue with paint. Find her online at www.abbyjreed.com.

Breaker’s home is cleaved by blood. The three tribes on the planet Scarlatti, whose only difference is their blood color, each want to exploit Breaker’s valley for themselves. The feudal tension has already claimed red-blood Breaker’s leg and his older brother. Now all this 18-year old wants is to maintain the tenuous peace in order to keep his little ‘stroid of a brother alive. Malani, a red-blood raised blue, is a kidnapped POW and only wants to return to her adoptive home with her dangerous blue secrets. Luka, a red-blood stewing for trouble, wants to right wrongs done to his family and bathe his home in justice.

All three intersect when Breaker discovers a wrecked starship and is given seven days by the green-bloods to fix and hand it over as a weapon. Breaker must decide if aiding his enemies is worth the home he knows and his family’s life. War is coming. And war respects no boundaries. And war leaves no survivors.

 
REVIEWS:

“In this richly imagined start to a new sci-fi series, Reed brings optimism to the goal of solving entrenched violence in a galaxy far, far away. . . A propulsive, sharply crafted tale about a planetary war.” –Kirkus Reviews

“When Planets Fall” is a fast-paced, well-crafted and intriguing narrative. The world building is well done and believable, and details of the planet and its inhabitants’ are impeccable, making for a vibrant tale. The characters are definitive and distinctive, with very distinguished inner and outer conflicts, compelling the reader to turn page after page. . . The story is intricately crafted and a stunning catalyst for the reader’s imagination. The Stars Fall Circle series has gotten off to a promising start!
-InD’Tale Magazine
A gust of mountain wind swept through the valley and plastered my tunic against my back. The cold wind sent another onslaught of shivers across my body like static electricity. The clouds parted, and the rain
lifted as though someone flipped a switch. Light from the twin moons drizzled behind me.Suddenly, the night was quiet save for a remnant of trickling rain.

The hairs on the back of my neck saluted. I wasn’t alone. I could feel its presence.

I turned.

A silver and black machine monstrosity lay cradled and honeycombed in overgrown foliage. The drifting moons-light backlit its massive curves, sparking off its sharp angles and highlighting its scale-like pattern. As big as my apartment building, the machine practically glowed in the moons’ reflection. My jaw dropped and I breathed like I do on a sugar rush. It was striking. Striking and beautiful and otherworldly. Unlike
anything I’d ever seen. Unlike anything I’d ever dreamed.

The machine looked undamaged, though the thick curling plants blocked most my view. A walkway descended out of its belly on the right. The front end and very top was made of a glass-like substance, thick with dust. A disk-like structure jammed into the lower front end. The rear split into three exhausts, while the side exhausts rested underneath a bird-like wing. My head barely reached the bottom of the cylinders.

I was aware of the rain’s moisture on my skin. I was aware of my size in relation to the distant strip of stars. I was aware of, not just a void, but a huge gaping wound in my life I only now realized was there, but whatever caused the emptiness—this, this, whatever this was—was the answer to filling it.

I approached the side and rubbed my fist against the rust. The grit came off easy. Underneath lay a carved line, a nail-length deep. I rubbed more, following the traces of the etching upward, from side to side, until
I couldn’t reach anymore, and wiped the gunk on my pants.

The letter E. Our language.

Exhausts and wings for flight. The strangeness of the machine
. The pieces fell into order. I took a couple steps back, and my makeshift harness wiggled.

A starship.

The word tasted like a kiss. Full, mysterious, left me wanting more.

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