YA Scavenger Hunt: Go, PURPLE! Go!

YA Scavenger hunt logo

Edited 10/9/17 – This hunt is over. Thanks to everyone who played!

Today kicks off the Fall 2017 YA Scavenger Hunt, and there are tons of great prizes to be won. You decide how much effort to put into it, but the rewards will definitely be commensurate with the time you spend visiting various sites and gathering clues.

BONUS! I’ve got an extra giveaway you can enter to win an Advance Copy of Honor Among Thieves! Use the rafflecopter at the bottom of this post to enter.

There are seven teams: REDBLUE, ORANGE, GREEN, GOLD, PINK, & PURPLE.

YA Scavenger Hunt Fall Purple Team logo

I’m on the PURPLE team this time around.
If at any point, you get stuck, check out the How to Hunt page for help.

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 signed book from each author on the hunt in my team! 

purple team book covers

But play fast: this contest will only be online for 5 days!

There are seven contests going on simultaneously, and you can enter one or all! Either way, it’s up to you. Pretty exciting stuff, right?

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 YA Scavenger Hunt page.


Directions: Below, you’ll notice that I’ve listed my favorite number. Collect the favorite numbers of all the authors on the PURPLE 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 Sunday October 8th, at noon Pacific Time. Entries sent without the correct number or without contact information will not be considered.

I have the pleasure of hosting the talented Katie French.  Let’s get to know her better before I show you the good stuff, okay?

About Katie, in her own words:

author katie frenchKatie French is an Amazon best-selling author in Young Adult dystopian romance. Her book, The Breeders, has had nearly 100,000 downloads and counting and was a semi-finalist in the 2014 Kindle Book Awards. She works as a high school English teacher, a job that she loves even when it exhausts her. In her free time, she writes manically, reads great books, and takes care of her three beautiful and crazy children. She aspires to spend as much time in yoga pants as possible. You can join her mailing list at www.katiefrenchbooks.com and receive two free full-length novels. Contact her at [email protected].


The Breeders cover imageDo you miss The Hunger Games?

Nearly 100,000 sold. Hundreds of five-star reviews. Winner of Kindle Book Awards 2014 Semifinalist.  Amazon best-seller.  You’ve found your next obsession.

When you’re one of the world’s last free girls, survival is tough, but dating is impossible.

When Riley was born, her mother escaped the Breeders, a group of doctors using cruel experiments to save the dwindling human race. Her parents do everything possible to keep her from their clutches, but, the Breeders control everything. And they’re hunting Riley.

When the local Sheriff abducts the adult members of her family, Riley and her brother Ethan are left to starve. Then Clay arrives, the handsome gunslinger who seems determined to help to make up for past sins. But Clay can’t know she’s a girl, or he might sell her to the very people she’s trying to avoid. As Riley’s affection for Clay grows she wonders can she trust him with her secret? She’s worth a lifetime’s wages. How could anyone, even someone she’s growing to love, give up an opportunity like that?

For fans of The Hunger Games, Divergent, and The Gender Game, The Breeders is a book that will have you turning pages long past your bedtime.

Find out more about THE BREEDERS here!


Now, let’s get to Katie’s bonus content. You lucky readers get to check out this exclusive excerpt from Katie’s new book, THE BUTCHERS :



I’m not a mother. I never will be.

But today, I sit in the dirt and teach Mo letters with a stick carved through the hard packed sand. She’s useless at it and frankly so am I. The only reading I know I learned from Clay and the quiet nights while we lie together in our hovel while Mo whimpers quietly in her sleep. I know the letters okay, and their sounds. Enough to teach a half human, half animal baby to scratch shapes in the dirt.

She grabs the stick in her dirty fist and digs it into the hard pack, spooling up mounds on either side of her scraggly line that could be an I or an L or really any other damn letter.

“Good,” I say, swatting a fly away from her. “Can I have the stick? I want to show you another one.” I hold out my hand.

With large eyes she looks at my hand and the brittle piece of wood. Her first move is to pull it protectively to her bare chest and grunt at me, her beautiful and dirty face challenging.

“No,” I say calmly. “Give it to Mommy.”

“Mo mo,” she vocalizes, still clutching the stick.

I jut my chin and hold my hand out. She’s so damn cute it’s hard. Big brown eyes and a tiny pink mouth, she has this way of pursing her lips that I know means, What are you thinking, woman? Her hair is tangled in brown dreadlocks down her back and she spends most of her time naked, running around our compound chasing bugs and getting into trouble.

“Mo, give me the stick,” I say, reaching for it.

Finally, she agrees, thrusting her arm out fist palm down. She releases the stick with a sigh.

“That’s good,” I say, smoothing back her tangled hair. “This one is called a G.”

“Mo mo,” she mutters, watching me, but I can tell she isn’t interested in letters and I’m a fool to think she’ll learn to read. She has one word and she uses it for everything.

I realize I’ve stopped drawing when Mo begins creeping toward me, climbing into my lap to pick at my hair. It’s an old habit, likely something she did with her real mother before she died, and I don’t have nits, but her little fingers are deft. I hug her small body. She probably only weighs thirty pounds when we’ve had a great run of meat from Clay and tough veggies from Auntie’s garden.

Still, she’s my baby. The only one I’ll ever have thanks to that idiot’s knife.

She stops picking and looks up at me. Her smile, all brown teeth and gums, turns something inside me, a key in a rusty lock, creaking and shifting, unlocking a cobwebbed door I thought would be bolted forever.

This warmth blooming in my chest, this feeling must be what motherhood feels like.

And if it isn’t, I’ll never know.

“Nap time,” I say, gazing up at the blazing sun just outside the shade of our crumbling building wall. She seems to be slowing down, the heat of the day getting to her, to all of us. Sure, we have shade, but it’s New Mexico.

I lift her sagging body and walk to our hovel. She’s limp in my arms. Tired from the heat and her crazy scampering. I get to our hole and set her on the ground as I maneuver toward the ladder angling down. It’s hard getting her limp form down the six feet, but I manage. She doesn’t stir. And after carrying her dead weight down, so I am.

I lay her on the straw-filled mattress, smoothing out her tangled hair and adjusting her hands. She’s making small moaning sounds behind her lips. I press a kiss to them.

“Sleep tight, love.”

But as I move away, her body begins to twitch. At first I think she’s waking, fighting the nap she clearly needs, but the twitching turns into seizing, her whole body shaking against the mattress.

My heart rips open.

“Oh God.”

I stare for an awful heartbeat as she jerks and vibrates. Her eyes are open, her mouth, too. The whites of her eyes roll up until the warm brown pupils are gone.

She looks like a demon, a monster.

“Clay!” I shriek, grabbing her taut body. I smell the stink and feel the wetness of her bowls releasing. “Clay!”

Above, Clay’s face appears, a shadow ringed by sunshine. “What is it?” he asks, coming down the ladder at his fastest clip.

I hold the twitching child in my arms, my tears already wetting her face. “Mo. She’s… She…”

One look is all it takes and he’s back up the ladder hollering. “Doc! Hurry!”

As I wait for help, I cry and rock her. White irises peer up at me. Her sweet, dirty face twitching, a low moan starting in the back of her throat. How old is she? A few months? A year? When we met she was brand new but already the size of a large toddler. Mo was bred to age at an accelerated rate by scientists trying to solve the dwindling female population. Their thought was that other animals matured at much faster rates than humans. If they could speed up human maturation that meant more females. Only, they didn’t count on brains not maturing as fast as bodies. Physically, Mo looks like a six year old. Mentally, she’s a baby.

My baby.

Hot tears splash on her face and meander through the dirt. I can’t keep her clean. I can’t even keep her alive. We had insulin that we stole from Corra. But it’s running out. I’ve been rationing it. And now the seizures. I’m killing her.

A shadow passes over and then Doc is climbing down. One hand holds his doctor’s bag.

“Doc, help!” I moan, offering her.

He helps me set her twitching body on the earth and then presses his stethoscope to her chest.

“She was taking a nap. I hear her moving. When I looked… This.” My words are clipped. I’m crying too hard. I bite my fingers and watch him examine her.

“We have to just let it pass,” he says, sinking back on his heels.

“But, Doc—”

“I know you want to fix this, but there’s nothing we can do but let it run its course. I’m sure it’ll be over soon.” He frowns and looks down at her little body. “I’m sorry.”

I don’t want his sorry. Biting back my protests, I watch her breathe. Each intake of air is a labor. She could die. She could die right here in the dirt.

Another shadow crosses the doorway above. “Puddin’ is everything okay?” It’s Auntie.

Doc answers for me. “We’re waiting it out. Should be over any minute.”

Thundering feet announce another as Ethan tumbles down, almost landing on Doc. The hovel is small and four bodies is pushing it. Doc shoves at Ethan. “No room. Go up. We’ll call you if we need you.”

My little brother peers down at Mo, worry on his young face. “She okay?”

Doc pushes Ethan toward the ladder. “Yes. Go. Wait up top with Auntie.”

His eyes flit around until they land on me. He gives me a look. We used to be inseparable, but now I’m so busy with Mo.

“Go, Ethan,” I repeat. “We’ll call you if anything happens.”

Grumbling, he climbs the ladder slowly so we know he isn’t happy about it.

I can’t worry about him now. How long has this seizure gone on? It seems like hours.

But when I look down, her little body has stopped twitching. She lays breathing shallowly, her closed eyes making her look like she’s peacefully sleeping.

“It’s over,” I say, pulling Doc’s arm.

He listens to her chest again and takes her pulse. I watch as he opens up both eyes and looks inside. “Whew, okay. When she wakes up, we’ll be able to tell what toll that had on her body. For now, let her rest. I’ll help you clean up.” He nods to my soiled clothes from where I held her.

“I need to stay with her in case she wakes up.”

Doc takes my arm gently and squeezes. “You need to take care of yourself too, Riley.”

I pull my arm away. “I’m fine. She’s the one who needs taking care of.”

From up above a face appears again. “He’s right, Ri,” Clay says. “Auntie will sit with Mo. Let’s you and me walk down to the stream.”

I start to protest, but Auntie cuts me off. “Get your ass up here and quit being so damn stubborn.”

They’re all against me. I burn Doc with a hard stare. “A half an hour and then I’m back down here with her. Got it?”

Doc holds up his hands. “Talk to your boyfriend and your aunt. I’m just the doctor. What do I know?” he mutters the last into his doctor’s bag.

Shakily, I stand, still eying Mo for signs of long term effects. I climb the ladder and pull myself out into the open.



Don’t stop playing! To continue hunting for clues and reading more exciting, exclusive content, click over to Shannon A. Thompson’s site. I know she has some delicious goodies waiting. Somewhere on the hunt, you can find *my* exclusive content. (Hint: It’s a video!)

Finally, this post has been sponsored by the number 88. (Psst. This is an important clue. Remember it!)



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