Sparked
Metal
Bones Series
Book
One
Sheena
Snow
Genre:
YA, sci-fi
Publisher:
Soul Mate Publishing
Date
of Publication: Dec 16, 2015
ASIN:
B015FW2AF0
Number
of pages: 317
Word
Count: 80,000
Cover
Artist: Christy Caughie
Book
Description:
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.
Excerpt:
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.
Mom
wouldn’t—
“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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