The Forgetting by Nicole Maggi
Sourebooks Fire
February 3, 2015
352 pages
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buy from: BAM/B&N/Chapters/Amazon/Indiebound
Georgie’s new heart saved her life…but now she’s losing her mind.
When Georgie Kendrick wakes up after a heart transplant she feels…different. The organ beating in her chest isn’t in tune with the rest of her body. Like it still belongs to someone else. Someone with terrible memories…memories that are slowly replacing her own. Georgie discovers her heart belonged to a teenage girl who lived a rough life on the streets. Everyone thinks she committed suicide, but only Georgie knows the truth. And now Georgie has to catch a killer--before she loses herself completely.
Fans of Lisa McMann and April Henry will devour this edgy, gripping thriller with a twist readers won’t see coming!
Nicole Maggi wrote her first story in third grade about a rainbow and a unicorn. After working as an actress in NYC, she now lives in Los Angeles with her family and two oddball cats. Visit her at nicolemaggi.com.
My review of THE FORGETTING will be up later this morning - here
Excerpt:
I jerked awake after what felt like only a minute. Darkness cloaked every inch of the room. I sat up. Panic snaked through me. This wasn’t my room. This room smelled sweet and clean and moonlight spilled in through a window. I had never slept in a room with a window.
I never know what time it is in my room because no light squeezes in; even the door reaches all the way to the floor. Dankness clings to the walls and I can’t breathe deep in here, not without getting a mouthful of mold. The air is too close, like there’s not enough of it. I grope for the flashlight I keep next to my bed so I won’t have to step onto the concrete floor to flip the switch by the door…
But the flashlight wasn’t there.
Pain seized my chest. My hand collided with the ornate lamp on the nightstand and I clicked it on. A soft circle of light pooled on the wall. I blinked. I was in my own room, with its plush carpeted floors and large bay window and lamps on each side of the bed. Why would I think I was in a room barely bigger than a closet, sleeping on a cot that was too small for me? Where had that memory come from? I closed my eyes and let the picture form. Clear and vivid, I saw that room. I knew every nook and cranny of that room. But as far as I could remember, I had never been there. How could I remember someplace I had never been?
The middle-of-the-night hush closed in on me and the only sound was The Catch, breathing in between my heartbeats like it was its own being. I moved my hand in slow circles over my heart but there was no sweetness to be found. In the stillness of the sleeping house, I let myself think the unthinkable. The memory of that room didn’t belong to me, and neither did the memory of that strawberry shortcake.
Those memories belonged to the previous owner of my heart.
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