Dreams, Creativity, and Magic-- all gone under a single order. Banned from the things that make you different, people resort to a dull and practical lifestyle. Creativity is a crime. Arts are Atrocities. Disobedience means death.
The daughter of the Regime's head Executioner is expected to follow in his footsteps, but 14 year old Calista Knight is curious of emotion, creativity, and dreams. It doesn't help that she is isolated and bullied at school because of her asthma.
When the new boy, Wes, encourages her to stop taking the medicine preventing dreams and introduces her to creativity, a new life opens up to her. Magic becomes very real, and with dreams and creativity intertwined, limits are endless.
But the Regime wants no one to dream.
Calista's a threat to the order.
She only has two options: overcome her own personal fears and the disapproval of her society, or end up just as sterile and colorless as the people around her.
Genre: FICTION / DystopianThe highest rankings it has received on Amazon is 62,576 in all book sales. In total, it’s sold about 50 copies, though I’m hoping both the series and time will change that!
I was fourteen, curious, and my nightly internet surfing might have already given me a death sentence.
At least those were the rules— the laws that kept society running. The Regime protected my world with its leadership. It saved the people in its arms, and they locked the outside world away.
People couldn’t say they were all that strict. Surfing the internet was fine, but looking up what I searched at night could be considered an act of rebellion.
I clicked the search bar on my laptop screen. Questions burned in my head. As I tapped on the keys, a single phrase sat typed and ready for me to search:
What’s it like to dream and use creativity?
No, that was too specific. The Regime’s lock would never let that question through, even if I used my father’s firmware. I wasn’t a rebel, even if I was curious. Couldn’t I at least get a clear picture of what the illegal activities were so I could report them?
I typed another phrase into the search engine, keeping my words short and broad. The more specific the question, the more flags would sound off on The Regime’s end. I didn’t want that.
Magic: definition.
Just typing the word could place me on a watch list, but I couldn’t come up with anything better. I wasn’t a creative person, and, boy, I was glad. Society frowned expression for fifteen years— at least according to Gran— and anyone caught doing anything involving it died.
My search ended in red letters coded across my laptop screen:
BLOCKED
“Dang it…” I mumbled the words under my breath, trying hard not to make a sound.
The word acted like a stop sign, a dead end. The bold letters coated in red reminded me of the system. It reminded me of the blood Father honorably spilled on a daily basis.
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Italian
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Translation in progress.
Translated by Paolo Costa
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Fiorella Azimonti
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