Gena Showalter - Everlife Trilogy Complete Collection: Firstlife ; Lifeblood ; Everlife

Utterly unique and absolutely riveting-I couldnt put it down! What a marvelously cool world. New York Times bestselling author Sarah J. Maas on Firstlife

Return to the realms with the Everlife Trilogy Complete Collection from the author of the New York Times bestselling The White Rabbit Chronicles, Gena Showalter!

FIRSTLIFE

Tenley Ten Lockwood is an average seventeen-year-old girlwho has spent the past thirteen months locked inside the Prynne Asylum. The reason? Not her obsession with numbers, but her refusal to let her parents choose where shell liveafter she dies.

There is an eternal truth most of the world has come to accept: Firstlife is merely a dress rehearsal, and real life begins after death.

LIFEBLOOD

Lena Wise is always looking forward to tomorrow, especially at the start of her senior year. Shes ready to pack in as much friend time as possible, to finish college applications and to maybe let her childhood best friend Sebastian know how she really feels about him. For Lena, the upcoming year is going to be epicone of opportunities and chances.

Until one choice, one moment, destroys everything.

EVERLIFE

When nothing goes as planned and betrayal leads to the edge of utter defeat, Ten and Killian will have to rebuild trust from the ashes of their hearts. Victory seems impossible, the odds stacked against them. In the end, how far will they be willing to go for the sake of their realms and the Everlife?

Titles originally published in 2016, 2017, and 2018.

Everlife Trilogy Complete Collection

Firstlife

Lifeblood

Everlife

Gena Showalter

Firstlife
By Gena Showalter

Lifeblood
By Gena Showalter

Everlife
By Gena Showalter

ISBN-13: 9781488038945

Everlife Trilogy Complete Collection 2018 by Harlequin Books S.A.

Firstlife

First published as Firstlife by Harlequin Teen in 2016

This edition published in 2018.

Copyright 2016 by Gena Showalter.

Lifeblood

First published as Lifeblood by Harlequin Teen in 2017

This edition published in 2018.

Copyright 2017 by Gena Showalter.

Everlife

First published as Everlife by Harlequin Teen in 2018

This edition published in 2018.

Copyright 2018 by Gena Showalter.

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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

and are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

www.Harlequin.com

Just how hard did she hit her head?

Keep reading for a sneak peek into the life of Jade Leighton in

OH MY GOTH

Only from Gena Showalter and Inkyard Press.

CHAPTER ONE

Outward beauty will fade, but the things we doour cruelties or simple kindnesseswill live forever in the people we hurt or help.

From the journal of Miranda Beers

My name is Jade Leighton, and this morning I staged my own death. Fiona, my stepmom, walked in and just about screamed the house down.

First: knock, please!

Second: I think she screamed louder when I opened my eyes.

Third: Im pretty sure shell need therapy to recover.

I know, I know. How morbid of me. My actions must have been a cry for help, and I should see a doctor. Why focus on death when life is what matters, right?

Heres the deal. I never wanted to be discovered. Id planned to snap a few photos of my corpse to study laterat the suggestion of my therapist, thank you very much.

Okay, okay. He didnt suggest I stage my own deathexactly. He said I should face my past head-on so that I can let it go, move forward, and embrace a bright future.

My interpretation? Recreate my mothers deaththe most defining moment of my lifeand find whatever shred of beauty was hidden in the darkness.

Her name was Miranda.

When my parents got along, my dad called her Randy, a nickname she claimed to hate. He would say it with a twinkle in his eyes, and Mom would protest while fighting a smile.

I was five years old when she enrolled me in a ballet class. The day of my first lesson, I remember wearing a pink tutu and feeling like a princess. I twirled all the way to the car and begged Mom to let me sit in the front seat like a big girl. The studio was only a few miles from our house, so she decided to humor me. Thats my best guess, anyway.

I dont remember what happened to us. Im told another vehicle slammed into ours halfway to the studio, propelling us off a bridge, that we landed upside down next to a river.

I do remember opening my eyes and hearing the thunder of my heartbeat as blood rushed in my ears. I remember the scent of old pennies and fuel thickening the airthe feel of my seat belt pinning me in place, the strap cutting into my tiny chest.

I remember panicking, fighting to straighten as warm blood trickled down my face and splashed onto my motherwho lay beneath me, splayed across the minivans dash, surrounded by broken glass.

One of her eyes had been gouged out, while the other stared at nothing. A metal spike protruded from her torso, and bones stuck out of her collar, an arm, and both her legs.

Hours passed. An eternity. Later, Dad told me the car responsible for our predicament had taken a dive on the other side of the bridge, and the only occupant had died on impact. No one witnessed the collision, so no one called for help.

By the time we were found, Id screamed so loud and long that Id permanently damaged my vocal cords.

Dad says I quit being me that day, that I completely shut down.

He isnt wrong.

Im seventeen-years-old now. Since the accident, I havent shed a single tear, or laughed. According to Fiona, I suffer from permanent RWFresting witch face. (She refuses to curse.) I also havent thrown a temper tantrum, or argued about anything. I havent cared enough. I dont even get excited when good things happen to me or anyone else.

Why should I? Good things never last.

I spent many years in counseling. My therapist says my emotional detachment is a protective measure I use to shield myself from a trauma Im not yet able to handle. He isnt wrong either.

I choose not to feel. I like my numbness.

My dad isnt so enamored of it. Last year, he asked me to give him a genuine smile for his birthday. I faked it, and he sighed. Then he said, Theres no sparkle in your eyes, all kinds of depression in his voice.

For a short window of time afterward, he tried telling me jokes to earn a laugh.

Where does a sheep go for a haircut? To the baaaa baaaa shop!