Are you ready for a new take on witchcraft and high school drama? Then you can’t miss New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Rebecca Hamilton’s upcoming YA novel, Something Like Voodoo.
A teen girl with the ability to predict deaths through her drawings shouldn’t need to lie constantly to make her life sound interesting. But that doesn’t stop Emily from spinning stories faster than she can keep up.
After transferring to a new school, Emily’s ‘dull’ life is shaken by the appearance of a boy who seems unfazed by her far-fetched stories. A too-handsome-for-his-own-good senior, Noah has some secrets of his own. He needs Emily’s special gift to save him from Sarah, queen bee of the school’s It Girls, whose own supernatural abilities have forced him into a life of silence and solitude.
But when Emily tries to free him from Sarah’s voodoo curse, things go belly up, landing Emily on Sarah’s hit list. Soon, Emily and Noah are on a collision course with the It Girls, leading to a shocking revelation that ties them together in unimaginable ways. If their powers remain unchecked, this teenage popularity contest could spell the death of them all …
Read on for an excerpt…
Boots crunching the snow, I slung my backpack over my shoulder. When I shut my car door with a little too much force, I cringed, but a slow breath resettled my nerves. Kind of. Then I focused only on the school’s main entrance. Get from here to there. That was all I had to do. Tell some lady or some man at some desk who I was and pick up my class schedule.
Halfway there now.
Someone shouted, “Hey,” as I walked into a solid mass.
“Ow.” I grabbed my shoulder and checked for what caused the damage.
Apparently that mass was a person.
“Watch where you’re going,” the person said.
I looked up. Goosebumps prickled up my arms and neck. Staring back at me was a boy with the most intense cerulean eyes, framed by the darkest lashes. So much for avoiding eye contact.
“I’m, uh, wow. Sorry.” I scurried past him but he gripped my arm, spinning me back again. “Whoa!” I cried out. “Listen, I said—”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. You’re new here?”
Being new was the worst thing to be in high school. “Um, no,” I lied. “I just skip classes a lot.”
He laughed, the anger lines that creased his forehead dissipating. “You’re that Bishop girl,” he said with a little too much fascination. Guess my reputation preceded me. “Come on, brat. I’ll show you to the office.”
Brat? I shook it off. I heard him wrong. I mean, that would be pretty rude, right? He seemed like he wanted to help me, even though I’d totally crashed into him.
As we walked, I made an extra effort not to look at him. Not in the eyes, anyway. It was impossible not to see some of him from the corner of my vision. He wore a short-sleeved shirt and shorts, but I bit back the urge to ask if he was cold. If he were, he would’ve worn something warmer. So I kept my mouth shut and stared at his calf muscles as he led me through the front doors into the large open hall.
With such an athletic build, I bet he had some cheerleader girlfriend who would flip out if she saw him talking to me. I’d been here all of ten minutes and already I was making enemies.
This school year was going to be awesome.
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