Hello! Chris Lyley here. I guess I’m supposed to answer questions, huh?
Thanks so much for joinnig us Chris. I promise we won't drill you too much :)
Are you happy with the genre your writer has placed you in?
Of course! Who wouldn’t want to check out prehistory? And see dinosaurs? Well, I guess all the fish dying was kinda boring, but being given superpowers is always a plus in my book!
If Raquel were here she’d likely roll her eyes at me for that…
If you could rewrite anything in your book, what would it be?
Probably the very end bit. Read it, guys, you’ll know what I mean. I mean, the epilogue was nice, but it’d be nice to remember more, you know?
Would you be interested in a sequel, if your writer was so inclined?
Hell yes! I mean, I don’t think there will be one, but it’d be cool to have a normal life without all the world ending stuff. I want that first date!
What is your greatest fear?
Funnily enough, even after all the world-ending stuff, I’m not really afraid of any one thing. I want to survive, though, and I don’t want to disappoint my dad. My mom died when I was young, and he needs me around. For me, right now, that’s the biggest thing.
What is something no one knows about you? Why do you keep it a secret? And what would happen if everyone found out about it?
Well, I guess it was the fact that my dad had died before the apocalypse. I didn’t tell anyone that he had died, except Raquel, and even that took a while. I mean, I didn’t want to depress anyone else, you know? Andres had his mom to look after, Susan had her…I don’t know, voices and crazy pills, and Monique, Xiao Ming and Theo all seemed so well adjusted. I just kept it to myself. I know they’d understand and want to help—Raquel certainly did—but I don’t like focusing on the sad stuff, and there was plenty of that to go around. Besides, I wanted to save him.
What is your vivid memory of your mother and father?
Hmmm…I wish I remembered my mother. Like I said, she died young, and I don’t really remember her. My dad, though—we’ve always been close. I like to remember him helping me pick out school supplies way back in freshman year of high school. That was a good time, long before all this world-ending stuff.
Do you believe in ghosts/evil spirits/mysticism? Would you spend the night in a remote haunted house?
I sure do now! I was always a believer, you know—aliens and stuff. With everything that happened, how could I not be? I mean, I guess it wasn’t aliens, but we saved the world. That has to count for something! Ghosts might just be old memories given form.
What is your most favorite memory?
Probably seeing dinosaurs. Or, you know, my first kiss with Raquel 250 million years in the past, surrounded by all sorts of things that are now extinct. Hard to beat that!
If you knew a zombie apocalypse was coming in one week, what would you do?
Hope I could reset it again, just like we reset the first apocalypse, of course!
What’s your favorite animal?
Whatever that little dino-bird thing was back when I saw dinosaurs. I’ve never seen it before, but it was adorable. I hope its descendants evolved into something cool…maybe some kind of bird.
What do you admire about your parents?
For my dad? Probably putting up with me. But hey, I did pretty well saving the world!
Thanks again for visiting with us today Chris, it was great to chat with you!!!!
* * * * *
The Sixth Event
Kristen Morie Osisek
Evernight Teen Publishing/ 74K words
Eighteen-year-old Raquel isn't eighteen anymore...
During Raquel's first semester of college, she witnesses the end of the world, only to wake up in her old room at her parents' house two years in the past. Even worse, it seems she's the only one who remembers—until Chris Lyley, a boy Raquel always thought was a loser, tells her he remembers the catastrophe.
Before long, they both discover new abilities. They're able to understand any language and teleport through time and space. If Raquel and Chris can figure out what caused the end of their world, maybe they can stop it.
My heart pounded as my white ceiling greeted me when I opened my eyes.
I blinked frantically, the vision of the rock hitting me still fresh in my mind, the instantaneous crushing sensation throughout my body fading to a dull, residual mental ache. Fear crashed and faded in a wave of relief when it all resolved into the deep blackness of my dorm room.
That had been one hell of a dream.
I narrowed my eyes, still staring up at the ceiling. My dorm ceiling was gray, not white.
I sat up and turned to the left expecting the glaring green glow of my digital clock. Instead, I was greeted with the dim shape of a dresser, outlined in the rosy hue of a rising sun.
My pink and white dresser at my parent’s house.
Shock spread through me, sending tingles down to my toes. My bedroom was coming into view, not my dorm room.
A stuffed dog sat at the foot of my bed. Instead of the giant glass window over the football field, my lace pink curtains fluttered in a warm California breeze, a copy of Teen Vogue sitting on the sill.
I rolled over and stood, grabbing the magazine. Justin Bieber smiled at me from the October 2010 cover.
Impossible. This was impossible.
“Elsie!” I shouted my roommate’s name. The magazine hit the floor with a ruffle of pages. The plush, carpeted floor, not the hard tiles of my room at college.
My comfy bed, complete with a feather mattress, took up the same side of the room it always had. My computer desk sat at the far side of the bed, the blocky Dell PC taking up most of the space. A life sciences textbook lay next to it, the image of a tiger on the front coming into focus as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. On the floor, my giant shoulder bag from high school lay with papers strewn around it. I took a step closer, peering at the letters, my heart pounding so hard I didn’t think to turn on the light.
High school biology notes. I had taken biology in my junior year.
I fled, my door banging against the wall as I ran to the bathroom, flicking on the light.
Elsie wasn’t here. I stared into the mirror of my parent’s bathroom, at my frizzy brown hair. I didn’t look so different. A little bit shorter, a little bit ganglier. No freshmen fifteen. I still had that annoying pattern of three pimples that kept coming back on my chin.
But I was still younger. Not eighteen, not a college student.
A girl in high school. High school. Again.
I stared in shock. This couldn’t be true. It must still be part of the dream, part of the green sky and rocks hitting me. I blinked hard, touching my nightgown, pinching my arm until I winced with pain.
“Mom!” I shrieked so loud I thought the mirror would shatter. “Mom, Mom, Mom!”
My mother came rushing in, her robe pulled tightly around her. “Raquel, what is it?” Her hair framed her face in an unruly brown cloud, her eyes wide and face pale. “What’s wrong?” She was as scared as I was.
“What happened?” I shouted as I grabbed her. “What happened?”
“What do you mean?” She pulled me out of the hug, looking into my eyes. “Raquel, what is wrong? Are you sick?”
In the glaring bathroom light, I stared into her wide eyes. She stared back at me, full of concern, full of worry for her daughter.
“The…I died. There were birds dying, and a rock hit me, and I should be in college…” I babbled, and she shook her head, gripping me tight.
“Raquel, it was a nightmare. That’s all.”
“What’s going on?” My dad’s voice shouted from the dark hallway.
“Nothing, dear,” my mother shouted back. “Raquel just had a little night terror.”
“At sixteen?” Disbelief and exhaustion edged his voice. “Go to sleep, Raquel,” he added, mumbling.
My heart pounded harder, even as I shut my mouth, looking back into the mirror. The mirror in my parent’s house, where a sixteen-year-old me stared back. My stomach flipped, then sank into my feet.
I was two years younger. The world was two years younger.
And no one else remembered anything.
Kristen Morie-Osisek has always had a fascination with the natural world. She is an academic by trade who specializes in addiction research, but also has a healthy interest in geology and the history of the planet. She focuses on writing science fiction and fantasy. The Sixth Event is Kristen’s debut book.
Author website: sfwrites.blogspot.com
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