Book Blitz: Gideon Lee by Lisa Orchard

Gideon Lee

by Lisa Orchard 

Release Date: 10/21/14

Summary from Goodreads:

Lark Singer’s relationship with her mother is prickly to say the least. As she enters a musical competition that could launch her career, Lark also searches for answers her mother would rather keep hidden. Throw into the mix the fact her best friend Bean has been acting strangely, and Lark finds herself launched into uncharted territory. Will her quest for answers sabotage her musical aspirations?

Excerpt #1:

Just as I snag my books, the boy with the curls stumbles, then collapses on the floor. Mr. Montgomery moves fast and is at his side in seconds. I watch all of this like it’s a silent movie. I can’t understand the voices and everything is moving in slow motion.

Mr. Montgomery yells at another student to buzz the office. The boy does this and our teacher shouts from his

kneeled position. “Get an ambulance here, ASAP!” He slaps the boy’s face gently, trying to revive him.

“Tweaker couldn’t manage his habit,” another student says, shaking his head and stepping over the boy on the way to the door.

Tweaker? What the heck is he talking about?

Mr. Montgomery seems to have heard him too, because he lifts the boy to his feet and attempts to get him moving. Another student steps in to help, and together they escort the boy around the room.

The boy wakes up enough to hurl all over Mr. Montgomery’s shirt and skinny tie. His head lolls to the side with his mouth hanging open. That’s my cue to leave. I can’t stand the smell of vomit. It makes me feel like puking. Go figure.

I hustle down the hall and head to my locker. After putting my books away, I make my way to the cafeteria. Picking up my pace, I search for Bean. He’s not in the stream of students heading toward the lunchroom, and I hope he’s already there, saving me a place in line.

When I enter the cafeteria, there are freshmen, sophomores, juniors, and seniors milling about and my ears hurt from the buzz of a thousand different conversations. A random sample. The words float involuntarily through my brain and the image of my math teacher, Mr. Sweeney, comes to mind. We’re studying statistics and probability right now. It’s not my favorite subject.

Disappointed when I don’t see Bean anywhere, I rush forward and step into line, right before a chubby kid who’s in my science class. I give him a quick smile and turn my back on him to discourage conversation. He’s another one of those musically challenged individuals, and those people don’t get me. I’m an enigma as far as they’re concerned. Sniffing the air, I’m hoping for a whiff of what’s on the menu. I’m hoping it’s pizza, but I can’t tell. I can’t distinguish between the mixture of fried meat, the sickly sweet perfume that clings to many of the girls as they pass by, and the musky body spray some of the athletes s wear to cover a more ominous scent.

Scanning the cafeteria, I continue my search for Bean and finally spot him, his face floating above the crowd. He

sees me just as I see him and he gives me a slow smile and waves. I wave back and enjoy how my heartbeat quickens as a warm tingle starts in my belly and spreads throughout my body until I’m overwhelmed with its warmth. It’s like this every time I see him.

I motion for him to step in line with me. He moves forward with that gangly walk he has. Bean is all legs and arms. Everything about him is tall and thin. Even his hair is skinny, clinging to his scalp as if it were holding on for dear life. He keeps it short just because it’s so thin. Otherwise, he’d have long hair just like the boy in my history class.

Brushing a stray lock out of his eyes, Bean gives me a slow, lazy smile. “What’s on the menu, Chickie?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m hoping for pizza.”

“Ahhh… Italiano.” He winks at me as he twirls an imaginary mustache and draws out the word Itaaaaalllliiiiaaano with a thick accent.

“We can only hope.” I give him a quick grin and he cuts in line ahead of me.

His jeans hang on his frame as if his legs go straight into his back, as if he doesn’t have an ass. I smile when I see the drumsticks wedged in his pocket.

Good old Bobby Bean… never without his sticks. He turns and flicks his blond hair out of his pale blue eyes again. There is a distance, a far-awayness in them that never seems to go away even when he’s focusing on you, as if he isn’t always entirely there.

He has been my best friend since third grade, ever since I broke Dwayne McIntyre’s nose during recess. His real name is Robert, but everyone calls him Bean because he’s so thin. Sometimes, when I’m feeling playful I’ll call him Bobby Bean. He hates that. He says it sounds babyish, but I don’t care. I like it.

“Hey,” I say, poking him in the back.

“Hey what?” he asks, turning around.

“A dude passed out in history class.”

“Really? Wow. That blows,” Bean says as he steps back and allows another student to pass through the line.

“Yeah. And then he did an epic hurl all over Montgomery.”

Bean snickers. “So how did the Old Historian handle that one?”

We share a conspiratorial laugh at the expense of Mr. Montgomery. Then I say, “The dude even got his skinny tie.”

Bean laughs aloud at this. One of his full belly laughs, which is hard to do since he doesn’t have a big belly. It gets the attention of several students standing around us. Bean smirks at them, turns toward me, and winks.

I smile and then grow quiet as I think back to last year when Bean dubbed Mr. Montgomery the Old Historian. We had been standing in the lunch line, much like we are today. He had been complaining about all the homework Mr. Montgomery had assigned.

“Dude gives us way too much homework,” Bean had said, shaking his head and frowning.

“Most teachers do,” I had responded with a sigh.

“What’s so great about history anyway? Everyone is dead. You can’t go back and change anything.” Bean had moved forward in line. When he caught up to the student in front of him, he turned and said, “That Old Historian needs to get a life, something to jazz up his mothball existence. I mean really. Skinny ties? Who wears those anymore?”

Buy Links: (only $.99)

Amazon│Barnes & Noble│Kobo Books

About the Author

I am the oldest of four children and grew up in a small town in Western Michigan. I grew up reading mysteries, starting with "The Bobbsey Twins" and "The Nancy Drew" series.
By fifth grade I was writing my own mysteries and illustrating them as well. I've always known that I wanted to be a writer and I tucked that little piece of information into the back of my brain; determined to take it out and use it when it was time.
After graduating from Central Michigan University with a Marketing Degree, I landed a sales job. I was on my way! After spending 13 years in the Insurance industry, I met my husband. We soon married and had two beautiful boys. I decided to stay home with my kids. A tough decision, but one I don't regret.
I did, however, miss the hustle and bustle of work - and working toward a goal. That is when the little voice inside my brain said, "It's time to write."
So I did, and "The Super Spies and the Cat Lady Killer" was born, followed by my new book, "The Super Spies and the High School Bomber."
I am very excited as I begin this new "chapter" in my life.

Author Links:

  

GIVEAWAY:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Book Blitz Organized by: