It's
September 24th and that means that Waterproof has finally
arrived!
Dying of thirst is the new
reality.
Five years after the last drop of clean water disappeared,
global societies
collapsed and nuclear war shattered all hope of recovery. In
a place now only a
skeleton of its former self, survivors fight to avoid
capture by the
government. Forced to work in factories that produce the
only drinking water
available, those who go in, never come out.
Zach and Vivienne have lived as deserters since they were
teenagers. Fighting
amongst their own and scrounging for the necessities of
life, they’ve learned
to rely on each other in every way. Yet when tragedy strikes
and the true
objectives of the government facility are revealed, their
world is ripped
apart.
A fate once thought to hold their demise may be the sole
answer to their
survival. Who can they trust? Who can they believe?
In this life, it pays to
be waterproof.
Amber Garr spends her days as a scientist
and nights writing about other worlds. Born in
Pennsylvania, she lives in
Maryland with her husband and their furry kids. Her
childhood imaginary
friend was a witch, Halloween is sacred, and she is certain
that she has a
supernatural sense of smell. Amber is a multiple
Royal Palm Literary Award
winner, author of Waterproof, The
Syrenka Series, The Leila Marx Novels,
and the
upcoming Death Warden
Series. When not obsessing
over the unknown, she can be found dancing, reading, or
enjoying a good
movie.
Stalk Amber Online:
Vivienne
yelled out and I whipped my head
around to see what happened. The last man standing held an
impressive hunting
knife in his hand, while Vivienne had a fresh cut on her
arm. Still, she held
steady, sword gripped tightly in front of her, legs in a
fighting stance.
Something
stirred inside of me at the sight.
Time slowed when I watched her wield the sword like an
ancient warrior. It was
hard to imagine that just a few years ago we were in high
school worrying about
football games and which party to go to on the weekend. Now
we stayed in
abandoned houses, scrounged for water, and spent most of our
lives running. If
things had been different, Vivienne and I would be
graduating college this
year. I had plans to go into medicine, and she wanted to be
a vet. Funny how
those dreams seemed so far away now.
A loud
thump echoed through the now darkened
night. She almost fell to the ground with the amount of
momentum needed to
decapitate the man. He dropped to his knees like a sinner
begging for mercy,
head rolling further down the hill. My stomach fluttered
with admiration and
annoyance.
“I didn’t
need your help,” I said to her,
getting up on my feet and trying not to wince at my
injuries.
“Sure,”
she huffed. Ripping her bandana off
her face she tore it in two. “Here, wrap that up.” She
nodded toward the tear
in my sleeve and I stubbornly yanked the cloth out of her
hand.
“I had
everything under control,” I said
between clenched teeth. It was the only way to mask the
pain. “How did you know
where to find
me?”
“I
followed the girly shrieks,” she said
without missing a beat. I looked down at her in time to see
a smirk pull at the
corner of her mouth. “Let me do it.”
Once
again, I allowed Vivienne to rescue me.
It killed every part of that male ego inside, but I knew
she’d let me do the
same for her. In fact, I had. We always saved each
other.
“Ow,” I
said when she tightened the bandana a
little too rough around my
arm.
“Stop
being a baby.”
“Stop
showing off your man strength.”
She pulled
even tighter but let a small laugh
escape. I sucked in a breath at that sound, realizing how
close I’d come to
never hearing it
again.
“Are you
hurt anywhere else?” she asked,
turning me around and patting her hands along my body. I
froze, trying to
ignore how comforting her touch felt. We’d been friends for
years, and she was
the only person in this world I trusted. Why had I risked so
much for this run?
I stepped
away from her, not liking where my
thoughts were headed. “I’m fine,” I mumbled. “Stop mothering
me.”
“I
wouldn’t have to if you’d listen to me.”
She stopped in front of my face and stared me down. I stood
a little over six
feet tall and she was just a few inches shorter. Together
with that glare, almost
any man would cower under her. “Was it worth
it?”
“Huh?”
“The
water. How much did you
get?”
I hung my
head in embarrassment. “I had
eight, but they shot through one. So six, I
guess.”
“Six
bottles?” She looked impressed.
“No, six
liters.” Silence.
“You just
made me kill three men for six
liters of
water?”
I shuffled
my feet. “You only killed
two.”
She
reached out so quickly, I couldn’t defend
myself. Both hands pushed against my chest and I stumbled
back, falling to the
ground.
“I could
make it three,” she hissed. “I
should kill you for your stupidity
alone.”
Thank you for posting Mandy!
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