Today we have the cover reveal for The Uprising by T. H. Hernandez! I love this great dystopian cover! Check it out and preorder your copy today!
Author: T. H. Hernandez
Release Date: Jan 19th
Genre: YA Dystopian
About The Uprising:
Recovering from a near-fatal gunshot wound, eighteen-year-old Evan Taylor must find a way to stop the Uprising, an underground movement committed to destroying the Union, before her homeland is attacked.
After spending the last four months in the Ruins trying to get back to the only girl he's ever loved, nineteen-year-old Cyrus needs to get past his jealousy over Evan's involvement with Bryce or risk losing her again.
Together, Evan and Cyrus join with their friends to devise a plan to save both the Ruins and the Union, but when the pressure’s on, bickering and infighting threaten to undermine their goals. New information revealing a weakness in the Uprising is uncovered, forcing them to act quickly or risk losing everything.
With the help of old friends and new allies they set out to make history, but it might just take a miracle for everyone to make it out alive.
THE UPRISING is the third book in THE UNION series, a young adult romantic adventure set in the near future.
Catch up on the series:
The unevenly paved Mexico streets are as jacked up as any out in the Ruins. Rainey and I make our way past colorful buildings with chipping paint and rusted railings surrounding precarious balconies. But at least the ground isn’t moving.
“You’re looking a little less ripe, there, Cyrus,” Rainey says with her raspy voice.
I cut my eyes to her, but don’t respond. I’ve never been as sick in my life as I was on that boat. All I want to do is get to a hotel and lie down. Aside from the sea sickness, we had an uneventful trip. No one paid any attention to us when we docked, and we’ve walked for several hours now without being accosted.
Since we’re posing as a couple, when we approach the center of town, I reach down and take Rainey’s hand. It’s even smaller than Evan’s and feels foreign resting in mine.
Rainey lifts her gaze to mine and smirks. Yeah, she’s about as thrilled with this ruse as I am. We enter the lobby of a stained green two-story hotel with crooked, worn shutters. A stone floor lists to one side as we make our way to the registration desk where a guy with a thick mustache and a bright orange button up shirt greets us. He says something in Spanish with enthusiasm, smiling so hard his cheeks nearly touch his ears.
Rainey responds, indicating me and continues on in a rapid fire conversation. She hands him a few bills and he gives her a key.
I follow her back outside, carrying our bags. One duffel is filled with a handful of clothes and toiletries and the others are stuffed with more bags to carry guns and ammo back to the Union. Money is sewn in hidden pockets in our fatigues, a knife is strapped to my ankle, and a gun sits in the waistband of my jeans.
Rainey heads down an alley only wide enough for us to fit through single-file. Behind the hotel is a staircase that wobbles with each step. Great. She stops at a door at the end of a narrow balcony with only a suspect railing to keep us from tumbling down the rocks to the beach a hundred feet below.
We enter a dark room smelling of vomit and dirty socks. A queen-sized bed is against the wall and a beat-up upholstered chair and ottoman sit in the corner.
“Only one bed?”
“We’re supposed to be a couple visiting from the Northern Territories,” she says. “I couldn’t very well ask for two beds.”
Rainey is about half my size, but there’s no way I’m letting her sleep anywhere but the bed.
“Okay, I’ll take the chair.”
She snorts. “You don’t have to do that. Your virtue is safe with me. Plus, you’re not exactly my type.”
My head swings her way. “Wrong plumbing?”
“Ego much? Wow, just because I don’t want to get all sweaty and horizontal with you, I must not be into guys. Is it really that rare for a hetero girl not to fling herself at you?”
I roll my eyes, not in the mood for this, but if we’re going to share a bed, might as well get this conversation over with. “No. It was the way you said it. I don’t know, forget I said anything.”
“You’re not bad to look at or anything, I just prefer my guys to be…less pathetically in love with someone else.”
“Point made. I’m gonna lie down until my stomach stops heaving. Join me or don’t.”
I flop on the bed and close my eyes, still feeling the gentle, and then not-so-gentle, rocking of the waves until I doze off
T.H. Hernandez Bio
When not visiting the imaginary worlds inside my head, I live in San Diego, California, with one husband, three children, two cats, and one dog. In addition to my day job as a technical writer and editor, I write young adult fiction. I love the intensity of teen emotions and the way they're still figuring out life. When I'm not writing, you can find me with my nose in a book, hanging out with family and friends, hiking, or knitting. I'm obsessed with Facebook, young adult novels, bad lip reading videos, pumpkin spice lattes, microbrewed beers, and the San Diego Chargers.
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