Did you ever stay up more than an hour too late because you just COULDN'T stop reading? That's what happened to me with Archetype by M.D. Waters....and the sequel Prototype, which releases today! Seriously, this is one of my favorite series of the year.
Emma looks forward to the day when she can let go of her past—both of
them. After more than a year on the run, with clues to her parents’
whereabouts within her grasp, she may finally find a place to settle
down. Start a new life. Maybe even create new memories with a new
But the past rises to haunt her and to make sure there’s
nowhere on the planet she can hide. Declan Burke wants his wife back,
and with a little manipulation and a lot of reward money, he’s got the
entire world on his side. Except for the one man she dreads confronting
the most: Noah Tucker.
Emma returns to face what she’s done but
finds that the past isn’t the problem. It’s the present—and the future
it represents. Noah has moved on and another woman is raising their
In the shocking conclusion to M.D. Waters’s
spectacular debut, Emma battles for her life and her freedom, tearing
down walls and ripping off masks to reveal the truth. She’s decided to
play their game and prove she isn’t the woman they thought she was. Even
if it means she winds up dead. Or worse, reborn.
Here's your first sneak peek (one of my favorite scenes!):
Noah crouches and charges out of the hallway, gun raised.
It takes me a moment to gather the courage to follow. This is a far different
situation than the simulation. That was a room full of harmless cats compared
to this hungry lions’ den.
Noah and I duck behind columns and large cracked plant pots.
We are trapped. Declan took no chances with this capture attempt. His men fire
from several levels of glass balconies. Resistance fighters either take cover
or lie prone on the expansive glass floor, where the ocean sways in a calm
juxtaposition to the room above.
Then I hear it. The unmistakable pitched slice of a hairline
break zigzagging across the thick glass bottom. In the chaos of the room, no
one else has noticed. A crack starts and stops, angling in several directions
into the room. The imbalance of temperatures must be creating thermal stress.
The ocean too cold. The plasma fire too hot. Not every shot from above has met
with a target, and I know personally just how hot they are.
I elbow Noah and nod at the new danger. He curses under his
breath and taps the com in his ear. “The floor is breaking. Everyone out.”
The second he finishes speaking, the crack darts into the
center of the room. On closer inspection, this flaw in the glass is not the
only one. More spiderweb into the middle and meet. The entire room watches in
Noah takes my hand and we sprint into the open. Plasma fire
rains down on the unstable floor. We are nearing the hallway, with its nonglass
floor, when a massive splash fills the room. The floor collapses and I drop
into the ice-cold sea.
The saltwater burns my open wound. Noah, already having
made it to the stable floor, never releases my hand, and falls. He lands on his
chest with his arm sunk into the ocean. His grip around my wrist is so tight I
think he might break the bones.
I tuck the gun—how I managed to hold on to it is a
miracle—into the back of my jeans and kick. My boots are heavy, making the
process hard, and I am grateful Noah has not let me go. I could very well sink
under their weight.
In my frenzied paddle to the surface, my ankle gets tangled
in the steadfast grip of seaweed. Not two seconds later, Noah yanks my injured arm,
and I yelp reflexively in shock and pain. I lose what little air is left in my
lungs. Bubbles sneak through my clenched teeth and pop on the undulating
surface. Black spots fill my vision and my lungs burn.
I am going to drown, which is ridiculous considering Noah
is right there. I cannot even call for help.
Noah twists aside as the blue shots of plasma fire
seek him out. He releases my hand in the process, and I immediately begin
sinking into the obsidian depths.
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