Bailey Johnson landed the coolest summer job ever: mail jumper on the historic Lake Geneva Mailboat. Falling into the lake is pretty much a hazard of the job. Finding a dead body underwater is pretty much not. Turns out the first victim was only the ripple before the storm.
Excerpt from the Novel
Screaming underwater doesn’t work so well. All those times my foster dad tells me to keep my mouth shut? This woulda been a smart time to do that.
Did my life flash before my eyes? No, thank God. Reliving the past sixteen years would have been a fate worse than death. Oddly, the loudest thought in my head at that moment wasn’t the dead guy–staring at me with bulging eyes and hair rippling in the current like pond weed. Nah. It was the crushing realization that I was never going to find my real dad.
Yeah, I was kidding myself anyway. The weeds tangled around my ankles were a phenomenal metaphor for my whole existence—kicking against a system that never intended to give me a chance. But a kid could dream. And I had dreamed. A lot. Like, my whole life. Someday, he was gonna come for me. My dad. He wouldn’t leave me adrift forever … would he?
Yeah, but he had. Sixteen. Still in foster care. Life sucks. When you finally realize nobody loves you—it’s like, totally lame.
Scheduled for release: 2015
- Cool fact: My fictional Mailboat was inspired by the REAL one in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. Check out the action: