Sparked by Sheena Spaleny ~ Virtual Book Tour
About the Book:
YA Light Sci-Fi
Date Published: December 16, 2016
They weren’t supposed to have feelings.
Metal will Clash
In a not-too-distance future, robots composed of metal for bones, electric cords for veins, and synthetics for skin are now available. For purchase. Eighteen-year-old Vienna Avery’s home is going to change forever, now that her mom purchased an Italian Chef Robot to cook and reside in their house.
Secrets will Unfold
The government claimed robots were indifferent, unthinking pieces of metal and elastic—assistance for the help of humans. Vienna never believed much of what the government said. The pieces didn’t always fit. And now Vienna knows why, because she’s uncovered the government’s secret: that robots have emotions, sucking Vienna into the underground world of feeling, thinking, and sovereign robots.
Sparks will Fly
Alec Cypher is everything a robot is not supposed to be: deep, dark, and dangerously human. And for some reason, he wants to save Vienna from the government’s prying, vindictive eyes. Going forward, Vienna will have to learn to trust robots and battle the growing feelings she never thought possible . . . feelings for the green-eyed, soul-searching robot named Alec.
Chapter One
I never locked eyes with a robot
before.
Never.
Not once.
I guess I
thought it would feel different. But it doesn’t. Nothing is different. It feels
the same, the same as looking into a human’s eyes.
I wanted to
pry my eyes away but now that I’ve started, I can’t stop staring. Even from
this distance, I could tell the robot’s eyes were a honey brown.
They are so
close to being one of us. But they can’t be. They can never be us. Or at least,
that’s what the government says.
The robot’s
indifferent gaze shifted from mine and it strode toward my neighbor’s Lincoln
Town Car. The robot’s gait caught with every third step and the elbow twisted
incongruently when it opened the car door—the only telltale signs it wasn’t
human.
This robot
had dark-brown hair, tan skin, and was dressed in a chauffeur’s suit.
My
neighbor, Mr. Romero, waved at me as he exited the car, and I just stood there,
mouth agape and knees locked.
Mr. Romero
frowned but I couldn’t wave back. I couldn’t move. I was frozen to that spot on
my porch with my keys dangling from my fingers and my purse sliding down my
shoulder.
It was just
as the news had said. Everything was. From the eyes, to the nose, the lips, to
the hair, it all looked so real. I had never studied a robot that wasn’t on TV;
I was always too busy avoiding them. But when they weren’t moving, when they
weren’t doing anything, when they were just standing there, they looked exactly
like people. Exactly.
Together,
they disappeared inside the house, Mr. Romero with his stout frame and wiry
black hair, and his robot chauffeur.
I now lived
next door to a robot.
The keys
felt cold in my hand, and I realized for the last several seconds, my focus had
been consumed by the now empty driveway.
Leave it to
me to do something like that.
I opened the
door and leaned against it as it clicked shut behind me. Everything was
changing. And everything would be different.
“Mom, I’m
home.” I shrugged off the door and into the family room.
“Be right
there, Vienna.”
“Don’t
worry about it,” I called back, hoping mom would leave me alone.
“How was shopping?
Find anything you liked?” Mom appeared and wiped her hands on her paint-covered
overalls. Mom was a die-hard artist. She lived, breathed, and probably ate
paint.
At a whole
head taller than me, Mom still looked great. Forty-five and thriving was
her motto. Mom and I had wispy blond hair, pale-green eyes, and a small nose.
Unlike me, her hair was cut in a bob-like fashion, the front angled longer,
reaching past her shoulders, where mine was always in a ponytail.
I shook off
my jacket and looked up into Mom’s bright, beaming face.
“I only went
shopping,” I said, raising my eyebrows. “No need to look that—”
“You’ll
never guess what I bought.” Mom practically sang the last word, cutting
me off.
Head
throbbing, I sucked in a deep breath and dropped my purse on the couch. “I have
absolutely no idea.” I wondered how mom would react if she knew Mr. Romero had bought
a robot.
“They’ve
had nothing but good reviews.” Mom nodded, following behind me as I headed
toward my room. “And you and your father are going to love him.”
I rubbed my
temples. “I’m sure we will.” How could we not get excited about Mom’s
latest painting gadget? “What does this one let you do?”
Paint with
two brushes at the same time?
Mom darted
in front of me, and spread her arms to block me from going any further.
“What’s
going on?” I looked from side-to-side.
“I named
him Robotatouille.” Mom nodded as if that solved everything.
“I’m
sorry?” I shook my head. What in the heck was Mom talking about? “You named
what Robot . . .” My breath caught in my throat. My stomach flipped. “You . . .
you did what?” I repeated.
Mom’s eyes
lit up and suddenly, it was like all the energy in my body had been stolen from
me, sucked out, leaving me dry and empty.
“N-N-N-o,”
I breathed.
“Everyone’s
getting one,” Mom said.
My legs
shook.
“Did you
know Mr. Romero just bought one yesterday?” Mom asked, face glowing while it
felt like mine had lost all of its blood. “And you’re going to love him. Look.”
Mom winked at me and stepped back to pull a sandy-blond brown-eyed
twenty-something-year-old man from behind the kitchen wall.
I couldn’t
breathe.
Air was
trapped in my body, as I stood there, gaping, into this man-robot-thing’s eyes.
Brown eyes.
Sandy-blond hair.
I jerked
backward and stumbled into the coffee table.
The robot
was right in front of me.
No.
Freaking.
Way.
About the Author:
Sheena Snow, contrary to her name, lives in South Florida and has only seen snow once. But she would love for it to land on her eyelashes and sparkle in her hair. She loves painting, candle making, orchid shows, tattoo conventions, hockey games and library book sales! After college she landed a full time job but kept serving pizza on the weekends and writing stories about characters she wished really existed, characters who never gave up no matter the obstacles life threw at them. At the age of twenty-six, she sold her first book and bought her very first puppy, a wonderful Yorkie named Aladdin.
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