Five Star Reviews for Atlantis Academy:
"Omg this book was amazing I couldn't put it down or stop reading. I carried it with me open on my phone while I did everything just to keep reading. I need more of all of this. Epic story, epic content, epic...
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Oh, crap.
Angry Al is red-faced and livid, and now he's got Boob-Lovin' Bob backed up to the bar.
"Did you sleep with that whore?" he yells.
"I swear to God, I didn't." Bob cries, slurring all his words. "I would never! Did she say somethin'? She's lyin'!"
"I see how you look at her! Stay the hell away from her!" Al throws the first punch, and all hell breaks loose. The fishermen are swarming, trying to break up the fight.
My heart's hammering through my ribcage as I look for my escape.
Al hauls Bob up by his collar and throws him toward me.
I jump back, slamming into the booth I was cleaning. Bob lands hard on the dirty table between us, and it skids across the floor.
Dishes fly, shattering. The fishermen are shouting so loud, I can't hear anything else. I'm frozen in place as the table Bob is on slides toward me and slams into my hip.
"Oof!" That's gonna leave a bruise. I squeeze my way out from between the table and the booth, but I'm still trapped.
Trapped by a mob of drunken fishermen, all screaming at Al as he slams his fist into Bob's face.
It's too hot, too humid. I can't breathe. The scent of rotten fish floods my nose, my lungs.
"Move!" I shout, but no one's budging.
I push against the closest men, panic clouding my vision, sweat streaming down my back.
"Move!"
Two of the guys press closer, crushing me into a third.
Time suddenly stops moving.
Every single hair on my arms rises, as if static electricity has swept through the room.
I break out in head-to-toe goosebumps.
I blink, looking around, the scene before me frozen. I try to move, but I can hardly lift my arm or turn my head. I'm stuck. Nearly paralyzed.
Bile crawls up my throat as I will my arm to move. My leg. Anything.
It's like a scene from a movie or maybe a bad dream.
This can't be happening.
It isn't real.
Wake up, Lyric!
I'd pinch myself, but I still can't move.
Angry Al steps in front of me in slow motion, his fist rising in the air. Bob's laid out on the dirty table, looking up at Al in horror. Al's fist is falling, falling, falling.
Finally, it slams into Bob's face.
Blood flies into the air. Freezes in mid-motion.
I manage to twist to the side, shove against the fishermen there. But we're still hardly moving.
