Welcome to New Adult Scavenger Hunt! This bi-annual event was inspired as a way to give readers a chance to gain access to exclusive bonus material from their favorite authors…and a chance to win some awesome prizes! At this hunt, you not only get access to exclusive content from each author, you also get a clue for the hunt. Add up the clues, and you can enter for our prize–one lucky winner will receive one book from each author on the hunt in my team! But play fast: this contest (and all the exclusive bonus material) will only be online for 72 hours!
Go to the New Adult Scavenger Hunt page to find out all about the hunt. There are TWO contests going on simultaneously, and you can enter one or all! I am a part of the TEAM BLUE–but there is also a red and a purple team for a chance to win a whole different set of books!
If you’d like to find out more about the hunt, see links to all the authors participating, and see the full list of prizes up for grabs, go to the New Adult Scavenger Hunt page.
Below, you’ll notice that I’ve listed my lucky book number. Collect the lucky book numbers of all the authors on Team Blue, and then add them up (don’t worry, you can use a calculator!).
Entry Form: Once you’ve added up all the numbers, make sure you fill out the form here to officially qualify for the grand prize. Only entries that have the correct number will qualify.
Rules: Open internationally, anyone below the age of 18 should have a parent or guardian’s permission to enter. To be eligible for the grand prize, you must submit the completed entry form by April 26th, at noon Eastern Time. Entries sent without the correct number or without contact information will not be considered.
Meet Jessica Gunn
Jessica Gunn is a New Adult author and avid science-fiction and fantasy fan. Her favorite stories are those that transport the reader to other, more exciting worlds. When not working or writing, she can be found binge-watching Firefly and Stargate, or feeding her fascination of the ancient world’s many mysteries. Jessica also holds a degree in Anthropology.To catch up with Jessica, follow her on Twitter (@).
GYRE (Book One of the Atlas Link Series)
Chelsea didn’t try to teleport. She was busy headlining her rock band’s show when it happened. But after accidentally teleporting onto classified Navy vessel SeaSatellite5, all she’s rocking is the boat.
Trevor couldn’t believe Chelsea teleported onboard. The same girl who’d given him a brief lifeline to sanity three months ago literally fell from the sky, under a mile of ocean, directly to him. But Trevor’s happiness at seeing her is cut short by a century-long family grudge. Chelsea is Atlantean, which would be totally fine if Trevor’s family weren’t Lemurian, the enemies of Atlantis. But Trevor wants no part of his family’s war. The only thing he wants is Chelsea, Atlantean or not.
But when SeaSatellite5 uncovers Atlantean ruins, placing the entire crew in the crosshairs of an ancient war, Trevor will have to come clean about his heritage to Chelsea and the US Navy. There are those who want the Atlantean artifacts inside the ruins, and only Trevor knows the relics for what they really are: Link Pieces, tools used by the ancient civilizations for their time-travel war.
With lies and shifting alliances abound, Chelsea and Trevor must think fast to save SeaSatellite5. If they don’t, the Lemurians will do whatever necessary to seize the artifacts and Atlantis will be destroyed forever.
“I said I’m fine,” I told my sister, our band’s bassist. But tears welled up and tumbled over.
She and the others stood before me, concern crumpling their faces. I’d just witnessed my best friend and my boyfriend shoving their tongues down each others’ throat right in front of my face. I’d found them making out in the crowd in the middle of my band’s show. Did they think I wouldn’t see it? He’d even had the gall to kiss me before the show. To tell me he loved me.
This was supposed to be the best year of college, my senior year. My last year to enjoy life as a twenty-something without responsibilities or anything cruddy happening before moving into the real world. But I had no job lined up, no clue where to start on my thesis, and now this. The two people I was supposed to be able to count on had betrayed me in the worst way.
Curses flew out of my mouth as my heart shattered and I backed out of the dressing room of the Franklin, the venue my band played every Friday night. Through the halls, up some stairs, out the door into the alley behind the Franklin. I slid my cell phone out of my pants pocket and dialed Logan’s number. My best friend was the only guy I could ever count on, ever. The only friend who’d never hurt me.
The phone rang through one cycle before hitting his voicemail, so I called him again. Three times before he finally picked up. “Hey, what’s—”
“He kissed her,” I said. “Right there in front of everyone. He kissed Lexi.”
Silence overtook the call, blocking out everything but Logan’s breathing. “Are you serious?”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“No, stop. I want everyone to just stop,” I cried. I could handle this. In the real world after college I couldn’t run to everyone for help every time something bad happened. “I just can’t believe they’d do this to me. I—”
“Are you okay, miss?” The voice came from the street behind me.
I turned and found a middle-aged man. Shadows and a hoodie hid any discernible facial features. “Fine.” Usually I just ignored people. Why did I answer him?
He stalked forward. “Are you Chelsea Danning?” His deep voice chilled my skin, set off alarms in my head. Get out, they said. The guy kept his hands in his pockets, not that I could have seen them with the shadows anyway.
I gripped my cell phone tighter in my hands. “Why do you care?”
“Chelsea, what’s going on?” Logan asked on his side of the phone.
“Nothing, just some creeper who—”
The man took another step toward me. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time, soldier. You’re not an easy person to find.”
“Soldier?” What kind of rocker had this dude fallen off? “Freaking weirdo.” I turned back down the alleyway. I’d wandered far during my conversation with Logan, and with Weirdo Man not far behind me, the distance to the door seemed insurmountable.
“Are you okay?” Logan asked, his voice hitched.
“Yeah, totally fine,” I said. I made quick work of the pavement between me and the door despite the echoing of footsteps following me. Didn’t matter. As soon as I got inside the Franklin, I’d be safe. Not that I wasn’t but this dude wasn’t doing himself any favors in the sanity department by calling me a soldier. Still, how’d he know my name?
Because Phoenix and Lobsters practically owns this place. Everyone knew who we were. Even the homeless drunks outside.
“I’m almost inside,” I told Logan, although being in the space place Lexi had betrayed me wasn’t any better than Weirdo Man outside. At least it’d be warmer. Goose bumps cooled my skin, a shiver working its way up my back and arms. Tonight was supposed to be the Spring Break show to end all shows, the best we’d played all year.
The dude’s footsteps echoed closer, faster, as though he were now speed-walking and trying to catch up. I sped up my own pace to keep away from him until we were both running.
“Close,” I said. Damn city. Damn sketchy area the Franklin operated in. Two yards. Two yards separated me and the door and—
He yanked me backwards, throwing me onto the ground behind him. My ass hit hard against the pavement. I cried out as my phone slipped from my hands, my breath whooshing out of me with the force of the fall. I glanced up at him. The hoodie disguised all but his ruthless, toothy smile. He was enjoying this.
“What is your problem?” I hissed. Stupid. Don’t engage.
“Easy,” he said, his words garbled, almost like he was using a voice-changer. “I’m taking you out of this war before you have a chance to end it.”
“What in the—”
He reached for me but I smacked his hand away and sprung up. Could I get past him to the Franklin’s door? Probably not. I stepped backwards toward the road some distance behind us. The man took a mirrored step.
“You’re not getting away this time.”
He lunged forward, charging me, and I backed up some more, half-turning to sprint in the other direction.
“Get the fuck away from me!” I screeched as loud as possible so that maybe some would hear me. Maybe they’d even help.
“Shut up, bitch!” he tackled to the ground, pulling and grabbing. “This doesn’t have to be hard. I just need your powers.”
I threw my head backwards into his, stunning him, and wiggled out of his grip. The path back inside the Franklin was clear now, but—
Hands wrapped around my shoulders and swung me into the Franklin’s brick wall. My head connected with a loud snap. Stars burst across my vision before everything narrowed into blackness.
No. Stay with it, Danning. I fought unconsciousness with everything I had, staying above it long enough to watch the dude stalk my way, hand reaching for his back pocket.
“Hey!” someone shouted, voice slicing the silence enveloping the alley.
Both me and the man turned our heads. The guy! It was the guy who’d looked drunk during the show. I’d been trying to focus on anything other than the earth-shattering PDA in front of me when I’d seen him, propped up against the side of the Franklin, eyes closed.
I wanted to cry out, to ask for help, but the window his shout had created was too good to pass up. I pulled myself together, stood, and slammed both my palms against the brick wall behind me. I kicked my attacker in the chest, launching him away from me.
I expected him to be dislodged from our current standoff. I didn’t expect him to sail the distance to the other building, Franco’s Pizzeria. How in the hell had I done that? What had I done?
My attacker stumbled, trying to stand. At least I hadn’t killed him.
The blond guy sprinted down the alleyway as my attacker made it to his feet, and just as they were about to clash, my attacker stopped dead in his tracks, staring up at the guy trying to save me. I still couldn’t see his face as his hood hadn’t left his head despite the scuffle, but he appeared confused by the guy’s presence.
“Back the hell off!” the younger guy shouted, to little use. The other man didn’t budge, didn’t attack or retreat.
He’ll kill us both.
Blond guy charged, tackling my attacker to the ground. My eyes flitted from them to the road and back to the Franklin’s back door. I should call for help. Intervene. Run down the road screaming for someone to find the police.
But I didn’t. I was frozen, terrified of the man who attacked me and the random, presumed drunk guy who’d stepped in. Guess he wasn’t so drunk after all. They threw punches at each other before my attacker got him in a chokehold. Stared at him. Dropped him. Stood. Ran out into the street without ending the fight.
He didn’t return.
What in the hell just happened?
My arms and legs shook, my head throbbing. Overwhelmed. Scared. I lifted a hand to my head, the other wrapped around my middle. Nothing felt like it was bleeding but I didn’t want to pull it away to be sure. Something about seeing blood on my own hands grossed me out enough that I left my head wound alone. “Shit,” I said, staring down at the younger guy whose nose had begun gushing blood. “Why the hell did you do that?”
“Trying to help.” He stood slowly, as if every part of him ached. His face had paled as the man had choked him, but color seemed to be returning to those ocean blue eyes. They didn’t appear as carefree as they had during the show, when our eyes had met for the briefest of moments. Wrinkles lined the tight corners. His eyes slid between watching my face and the hand at my head. He wiped his mouth and nose with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. It came away soaked in blood.
Blood. Attacked. Pain. So much pain coming from my head. I backed up toward the Franklin. Who said this guy was any safer than the other dude?
Need a doctor. So bad.
“That was kind of stupid,” I said. But he hadn’t needed to do that, step in. “Thank you.”
He shrugged like it’d been nothing. His gushing nose spoke differently. “Are you okay?”
“Just peachy. Perfect day, you?” But little weight had been thrown behind my snark. Tears welled, threatened to spill over. Too much. This was all too much. My hands shook and I bit my lip in an effort to keep the waterworks at bay. Epic fail. They slid down my cheeks in streams.
“Sure you are,” the guy said. “I can tell you were crying. Did he hurt you?” And, bless him, he actually sounded concerned.
I wiggled the fingers around my head wound. Pain starburst in response. “No.” Yes. Badly. This guy’s own injury wouldn’t stop bleeding, either, and the bags under his eyes spoke volumes. “You sure you’re okay? Come inside. I’ll get you ice or a drink or something.”
“You hit your head pretty hard. Is there someone you can call? Someone from your band?”
So he recognized me, too.
“I will.” Just as soon as I was sure he wasn’t going to collapse any more than my own body threatened to. I dropped the arm around my waist and rubbed at my face. Exhaustion anchored heavy on my eyes and shoulders. I wanted to lay down somewhere. On the bar, even. My eyes wandered back to the guy. “Thank you for stepping in.”
“Looked like you handled yourself,” he said, wiping his lip again.
An awkward mix of guilt and fear wormed its way into my throat. I swallowed it down and glanced at the brick wall I’d kicked my attacker into. How had I done that? The guy had to have been at least two-twenty and all muscle, and the distance between the Franklin and Franco’s was thirty feet, maybe more.
“Yeah,” I mumbled. “I don’t know about that.”
Silence fell between me and the guy who’d saved me, sitting for long moments. I should go inside. Finally, I looked to him and said, “Well, thanks anyways…”
“Boncore. I’m Trevor Boncore.”
A smile slid onto my lips before I could stop myself. “Like James Bond or something? I think you’re taking this saving me thing a bit far, don’t you?”
Trevor smiled too, like he hadn’t meant his name to come out that way. “I didn’t do much.”
That was a lie if I’d ever heard one. His shouting distracted had my attacker long enough for me to retaliate. Why didn’t he want to take his due credit? “Still, thank you. I’m Chelsea.” I tucked hair behind my ear, catching a glimpse of my hand. No blood. “I… wish we could have met under different circumstances.”
He laughed although nothing about this situation was at all funny. “Yeah, me too. What’d he want with you?”
I shrugged. “Money, probably,” I lied. “He didn’t talk a lot. Then you showed up.” No need to burden my savior with the coo-coo-crazy truth: my attacker thought I was part of some soldier war group. Wind blew over the alley, the cold catching in my throat. My teeth clattered together as my breath puffed past my lips in swirls. “I should go inside now. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
“I’m sure,” he said, nodding to the street. “Have someone check out your head, Chelsea.”
“I will. Get some ice for your face.” Slow steps took me back to the Franklin’s back door. I grabbed for the handle but didn’t make contact, my hand hovering above it. I looked back over my shoulder. “Thank you.” He’d put himself in harm’s way for me, a stranger, on the night my best friend and my boyfriend, two of the people closest to me, had destroyed me. The combination of the events confused my muddle brain even more.
“You’re welcome.” Sweatshirt sleeve still pressed to his nose and lips, he made his way down the alley as if nothing had happened at all. Carefree once more.
As he walked away I laid my head on hardwood door and forced deep breaths into my lungs. Going back inside would make not only what just happened real, but everything that had occurred before. It was time to remove Lexi and Ray from my life. To face the band. To find a doctor and get my head looked at.
I chuckled. Maybe he could look at more than just the wound.
Brakes squealed on the street and I lifted my eyes to check it out. Trevor stood watching as two men appeared from a sketchy black SUV. They exchanged looks, no words, and then Trevor all but dragged his feet to the car and got inside. Then they were gone.
Had any of this happened at all?
My Green Day ringtone sounded from down the alley. My phone! I picked it up off the ground, dirt and all, and looked at the caller ID. Logan. I swiped my thumb across the screen. “Hey.”
“What happened?” Logan asked, distraught. He must have heard the whole thing before the call disconnected.
“I don’t know,” I whispered, looking down the street after Trevor and the SUV. “I don’t know.”
To enter, you need to know that my lucky book number is 5
Add up all the favorite numbers of the authors on Team Blue and you’ll have the secret code to enter for the grand prize!
To keep going on your quest for the hunt, you need to check out the next author, Elizabeth Miceli!