I realise that I only seem to post here when Im entering competitions. Today is no diferent. Here is my entry for Sarah Rees Brennans Untold ARC competition.



UNWOKEN

The Montgomery Diaries
Chapter 1
Life is something to do when you can’t get back to sleep. –Fran Lebowitz

The Crazy One was yammering on about crazy things again. Angela had moved from London into Sorry-in-the-Vale when she was 12. It had seemed like a typical picture perfect small sleepy town; the perfect place to nap. Than she’d met Kami Glass, and her dreams of well, dreaming peacefully in the country side dissipated before her.
Surprisingly, Angela found herself not minding too much. There was something about Kami’s enthusiasm, energy and adventurous nature that were somewhat catching. Not that she’d ever admit this out loud to her best friend.

Today’s latest madness was starting up a school paper. Kami and sweet talked Ms. Dollard into giving them an office by saying she’d have Angela on board. Angela had always known Ms. Dollard was out to get her. Though there was a silver lining to the latest mad idea, Angela would get a couch. To which she could nap. At school.

The newly dedicated office for the newspaper was filled with empty boxes. Boxes obstructing her from her napping couch. Boxes which would require work, to remove.

Twenty minutes in Angela collapsed onto her well earned couch. Empty boxes crumpling beneath her. Twenty minutes was the golden rule that Angela lived by, if it can’t be done in twenty minutes it was worth the effort. Perhaps she would write an article for the newspaper on it.

The Crazy One kept cleaning, her glittery blue scarf catching the waning sunlight coming in through the window as dust twirled around her. It was sort of memorising to watch Kami. She moved with such determination and energy.

Angela was half asleep when a tap on the closed office door roused her. It was the silence that followed directly after the boy entered the room that alarmed her. If Kami was silent in the middle of one of her mad projects it meant bad things. Why must theses things always happen during nap time, Angela grumbled to herself.

Check out this awesome trailer for Alpha.


Im rather sad to see the series end, but excited a the same time :)18 more days!!

I had the day off uni, and decided to pass the time by going into bookstores and asking for books that have yet to be released.
Now before you start with the, 'Serena, why do you waste the poor bookstore guys time' the man was clearly bored and practically jumped me when he asked if I needed help.

Dymocks in the city has the YA and Science Fiction books in the basement of the store, and is admittedly a little isolated from the rest of the store.

Me- *gets off escalator*
Bookguy *jumps out from the bookshelves* "A CUSTOMER! Eh hem, I mean hello, how are you, do you need any help?
Me- Er, do you know if Shadowed Summer's been released yet?
Bookguy- *loses the gleam of life from his eyes* Oh, you mean Stephenie Myers new book
Me- Ah, no. I mean Shadowed Summer, Saundra Mitchels.
Bookguy- Let me check for you! Ah, no it won't be released till February in Australia. Where did you hear about the book?
Serena- Twitter.
Bookguy- A little piece of me has died.

So if I wasn't convinced before, I am completley convinced now that my cat has some how gotten it's self a caffine addiction.

It started around Feburary; I'd let Cecily out for her daily run around the garden and was just letting her back inside when I noticed it. Cecily had come back smelling of coffee.
A very milky, sweet coffee none the less but distinctively coffee. Almost as if someone had very thoughtfully left out a bowl of warm milk, and added a tiny amount of coffee and sugar to it, to give the cat a very weak coffee. Or a catccino as I have come to think of it.

So ever week or so the cat will come home smelling of coffee, and on one memorable afternoon tea. Which doesn't sound that bad, and I can tell you there is something relaxing about lying on the couch with your cat the faint smell of a good cofee lingering in the air. What isn't relaxing is dealing with the cat the next day.

Cecil is usually the most doctile little thing, more a bundle of purr than amything else. There was one night where I had picked her up so that she wouldn't run outside as my dad came in. Dad's entered, and as he walks past, me holding the cat, gives the cats tail a yank and she starts purring!
Cecil when she is in want of caffine is not so doctile. Usually if she want's to be let out she will sit at the door cock her head at you and give a little squeak. Cecil in want of coffee will sit there and howl for you to let her out, as if the world depends upon her release. Normally if you ignore her request to go outside she'll follow you around the house sulking till you finnaly cave and let her outside, giving out little squeaks here and there as little reminders that she wants to be outside. Cecil in want of cofee if denied freedom will throw her little body at the screen door, and open it with her momentom.

I've played with a few theories as to where the coffee is coming from; each making sense, but about as much sense as primary school me convincing my best friend that the old woman on my street was witch. Based entitrely off the fact she lived by her self and one morning as we were walking past had left a broom leaning agaisnt the side of her house which just so happened to be the side of the driveway.


RARW, ME IN KATOFLAGUE