Series: Standalone Novel
Published by Self Published on 1/30/19
Genres: Young Adult, Science Fiction
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We all have our identities.
Most of the time, they come from our circumstances. They’re made by others—shoes for us to walk in whether they fit or not.
But what if?
What if we could take off those shoes?
What if we could wear a different pair?
What if those boxes we put ourselves in are better…worse?
And what if, when we do…we’re trapped there for good?
They all call me Cowboy.
She’s the damsel who doesn’t need to be rescued.
And him…he’s the villain.
This is our story. And this is how we want it to be told.
What did I just read?? This was wild. Unpredictable. Twisty and complicated, a lot to keep track of, and it’s like nothing else I’ve ever read before. If you enjoy a book that pushes boundaries, this is for you. I couldn’t turn the pages fast enough.
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Well holy moly, that was a TRIP. There’s a lot to process with this story; I’m still not certain I followed everything that was actually happening. What I do know is that Ginger Scott’s writing and world building are stellar. I mean… what the actual hell did I even just read?? This was wild. Unpredictable. Twisty and complicated and a lot to keep track of. But it’s definitely something this author should feel insanely proud of because it’s like nothing else I’ve ever read.
I have to admit that the first half of this book moved a bit slowly for my taste. I was struggling a bit with whether or not I was really feeling it. It’s definitely a mood thing because I was anxious for some serious Ginger Scott romance and the romance ended up being very light in much of this book. Again, it was my mood. But somewhere around the halfway mark things picked up and I couldn’t turn the pages fast enough. I had no idea what was going on, where this could go, who these characters truly were. And as it turns out, they didn’t either.
This is definitely a book where I feel like I need an expert to dumb everything down and explain it properly to me. I just don’t even know what some of it meant. It’s trippy and deliberately confusing and somehow it all worked. I think. It’s entertaining and unexpected and it’s a testament to the author’s storytelling that, even though it wasn’t totally my jam, I couldn’t NOT keep reading. Do I wish I had connected more with the characters? Sure. But truthfully, in a book like this, I have to give myself some credit and recognize that it was near impossible to connect with characters who were so… disconnected.
If you enjoy stories that push boundaries and are completely outside the box, this will be one you’ll want to jump on. If you’re a Ginger Scott fan, obviously this book is for you. If you need something a bit different to break up the mundane, THIS is definitely for you. And if you’re a reader that likes stories that drift far away from reality but still feel emotional and complex and somehow relatable at the same time, please go ahead and read this book. And then maybe you can come back afterward and explain it all to me. 🙂
We arrive at our exit, and I reach across his lap for my sweatshirt. He bats my hand away. “You leave that here. We’ll get you something different to wear and be seen in.”
I dart my eyes up to meet his. I get it. He’s right. The women saw me in the blue.
“Okay.” I nod and step into the aisle. He moves in close behind me, holding his hands at my hips as we walk down the narrow pathway together.
“Smile,” he whispers over my shoulder.
I do as he says, and he laughs into the back of my neck. We’re two seventeen-year-old kids out for a fun date, and that’s it. Any glares we get as we walk off the bus are innocuous, so I play the part of carefree girl with a crush until we arrive in the thick of the early evening crowds at the mall.
I tense at the sight of a security guard, and this time he genuinely laughs at me.
“Relax, those aren’t real cops,” he says, leaning in close to me.
His hand takes mine again, but this time not as part of the act or out of panic. This is just him wanting to hold it, a natural movement that I feel he’s done dozens—hundreds—of times before. I wait until we get to the coat section of the department store across the street from the hospital, and I stop him.
“It’s about to snow outside. I’ll need something,” I say. I hold our hands up when I talk, and I nod toward them.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” His thumb makes the familiar stroke along my wrist. I glance to it and nod.
“It is,” I say.