In a chilling near-future New United States of America, Jo Monarch has grown up in the impoverished borderlands of New Georgia. She’s given one chance to change her fate… if she can survive a boy trained to break hearts.
Today is the day Jo Monarch has been wishing on the moon about her entire life. It's the day of the Lineup, when she could be selected to leave her life in the Ashes behind. The day she could move across the mountains to a glittering, rich future.
Once Jo is plucked from the Lineup, the real test begins. She still needs to impress the New Georgia Reps at tonight's Gala, and her path forward leads straight to Cove Wells. The damaged stepson of one of the Reps, Cove has been groomed as an emotional weapon, taught that love is a tool — and he's set on breaking Jo's heart next.
When a riot breaks out back in the Ashes the night of the Gala, Jo's dreams might all go up in smoke. Can she really have everything she's ever wished for… when it means leaving all her loved ones behind in the fire?
Harper Glenn's debut is as gripping as it is prescient, an unflinching meditation on whether love can save us from ourselves, and what it takes to be born anew.
Harper Glenn is an author of fiction. In addition to creating literary works that unveil the psychological, sociological, and economic disparities in poverty-stricken regions around the world, they love vintage books, anatomy, and old cemeteries. Though born and raised in Georgia, Harper resides in Washington State. Connect with them online at harperwrites.com, @harpwrites on Twitter, and @harperglennwriter on Instagram.
Read an Excerpt
I close my eyes tight. Tighter. Wishing I was anywhere but here.
Sweat beads cover my forehead, trickle into wild brows and long black lashes. Despite the nightmare, the familiar cockroach, the odor, I remind myself: Today's a good day. The day, the day of the Line Up. The day I could be picked to leave all this behind, for good. Lingering unease from the nightmare transforms into anxiety about today. I twirl my triangular white Line-Up card between index and thumb, rub raised red letters on the card that read: LINE UP ALLOWED. Everyone who passes exams gets one. I exhale deep, trying to breathe out the panic about Lining Up with other kids, hoping New Georgia Reps pick us to leave the Ashes, to trade this place for a life of luxury across the mountain.
The cockroach climbs out of Neal's shoe. I gotta catch it. If I don't, tonight it'll be under Vye's sheets waiting for legs to creep up. It crawls over Vye's frayed black dress and disappears. I freeze. Don't move. It's there. In my hair. It crawls between my roots, skitters across my forehead. I grab it — feel it jitter in my palm like a moth in a mason jar. I stick my arm out the window beside my bed — release it, watch it coast into opaque sewer-fog.
With my head sticking out the open window, I watch Ashfolk prepare kin for Line Up. Parents outside tattered shacks comb naps out of kids' heads, fathers sit behind offspring on stools brushing kids' hair. Grandparents lick the tips of their thumbs to clean dirty spots on grandkids' faces. My cheeks sit high, smiling, but inside, my heart gulps for air as if thrown into a bottomless ocean. Oceans, fresh air. If I make it past the Line Up and move to New Georgia, I'll never look outside this cut-out window again. No more catching flying roaches. In New Georgia, colorful butterflies'll dance on the tips of my fingers.
I release a heavy sigh. Butterfly dances come at a cost. I'll never look out this window, see these people, my people, again.
