YA Scavenger Hunt – Fall 2015!


Welcome to YA Scavenger Hunt! This bi-annual event was first organized by author Colleen Houck as a way to give readers a chance to gain access to exclusive bonus material from their favorite authors and a chance to win some awesome prizes! On this Fall 2015 hunt, you will get access to exclusive content from160 authors divided into eight teams of 20.I am on TEAM TEAL, and if you visit all 20 authors on my team and add up our clues, you can enter for our prize–one lucky winner will receiveone signed book from each author on my team!Many of us, including me, are offering additional prizes as well.But play fast: this contest (and all the exclusive bonus material) will only be online for 72 hours!



Go to the YA Scavenger Huntsiteto find out all about the hunt,including the listsof participating authors, the prize lists, and more!


For now, here’s the quick and dirty directions:
The Puzzle:Below, you’ll notice that I’ve listed myfavorite number. Collect the favorite numbers of all the authors onteam teal, and then add them up.
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 October 5th, 2015, at noon Pacific Time. Entries sent without the correct number or without contact information will not be considered.




Shari Becker was born in Montreal, Quebec, and was raised speaking both English and French. As a child, she spent her summers in the Adirondack Mountains catching fireflies, minnows, and toads. She has an MA from New York University and has worked for Nickelodeon, for Disney-owned companies, and even for an Emmy Awardwinning puppeteer. She is the author of two picture books, including Maxwells Mountain, a Junior Library Guild Selection and Charlotte Zolotow Honor Book. She now lives in Brookline, Massachusetts, with her husband, their two daughters, and their dog. She loves lakes, but despises the bridges that run over them.


About Shari’s latest book, Stellow Project:STELLOW PROJECT
When a killer storm unexpectedly hits Manhattan, seventeen-year-old Lilah Stellows dad insists that she and her younger sister, Flori, take refuge at their cabin in the mountains. But instead of joining them with the experimental drug that keeps Lilah alive, he disappears just as news reports name him as a prime suspect in an act of ecoterrorism.As days pass without her medicine, Lilah finds herself teetering on the edge, caring for her sister, and growing increasingly certain theyre being watched. In her search for answers, Lilah is thrown into the center of a mystery involving an off-the-grid research facility and finds herself drawn in by Daniel, an intriguing boy who is the son of the lead scientist. As she dares to seek answers, Lilah slowly realizes that even the best intentions can go horribly wrong.


Find out more information by checking outShari’swebsite or find more about Stellow Projecthere!

As her exclusive content Shari offers a sneak peek ather paranormal work-in-progress called Indigo. So without further ado . . .

Ellie ran her fingers through her blue streaks. Theyd faded to an aquatic shade of turquoise, which she kinda liked. Too bad shed have to change them now. Maybe red. She hadnt done red in a while. The sun shifted outside her room sending a beam of light directly onto her scalp. It was like a spotlight, taunting her.

Oh God, Ellie thought. No. No!

She leaned into the mirror to look closer. There was no mistaking them. More grey roots, this time in a clump, right above her right ear. Ellie could feel her throat beginning to close. She gagged, trying to push away the Im going to cry feeling.

As if having grey hair wasnt bad enough. But new roots, in a clump that was a sign.

The doctors told her she was crazy, but she knew they were wrong. Okay, maybe she was a little crazy, but she was right about this. All these brilliant medical experts were so quick to diagnose her with all sorts of syndromes and ailments, but when she pointed out the obvious – that the grey always came a day or two before – they snorted, as if her powers of perception and deduction were so comical and naive they werent even worth considering.

Ellie tried to regulate her breathing. I have a few days, she thought. Maybe three, maybe four. Ill be prepared this time. Itll be different. She hoped she was right.

She was wrong last time.

And the time before.

Ellie glanced at the clock and then back at the grey. She couldnt go out like this. Blue was better than grey. Red was better than grey. Better to be different by choice than by bad luck.

Ellie grabbed her already open Head Goop and smeared gobs into her hair, creating clumps. There was an art to creating hair that looked perfectly messy. Between the sheen of the pomade and careful planning. Maybe no one would notice.

Ellie shook her head from side to side, the clumps holding together like long potato roots. She pulled her Doc Martin boots over her green and white striped knee socks, stood up and adjusted her fringed jean shorts. Her outfit looked frickin awesome. Like a punk meets My Little Pony or something. She was lucky her parents didn’t care about things like clothes and hair. Her mom believed in self expression, at least that’s what she’d said. She never said anything about any of Ellie’s outfits, but sometimes she could swear she could see the corners of her mom’s mouth turn up, just a bit, as if amused, by Ellie’s choices. Some kids might have thought she was super lucky, but she knew better. Ellie’s parents didn’t care about outfits because they had bigger things to worry about: a daughter who heard voices, a daughter convinced she was possessed, a daughter with one foot into a psych ward – for an extended stay.

She grinned just a little as she grabbed her backpack, thinking about the looks on her parents faces when theyd see her get-up. The minute shed walk out the door, her mother would scream,James, did you see what she wore today?

And then she felt it. The roll of her belly. Queasiness. God no. She grabbed onto the back of her desk chair. Please no. It was too soon.

She should have had at least a day. Maybe two. Thats how these attacks always went. First the grey appeared. It started at her roots, and it spread, slowly from tip to end. It usually took at least two days to cover the whole piece. The attacks came only after the hair was full grey. Ellie leaned into her mirror. The grey was still at the roots. It couldn’t be an attack. It was too fast. She couldnt have another today. Hell, she couldnt have another one ever. It was like this force crawled into her and turned the volume up on every single organ and sense in her body. In the beginning, the attacks were mild: she could feel every woven thread in the fabric of her clothing. She could smell every single ingredient in her face soap. She could hear the expanding and contracting of her lungs, like some tiny, relentless whistle inside of her. But that was then. Now, the attacks were incapacitating. She threw up, she blacked out, she heard voices. Voices that seemed to come from places and things that werent supposed to speak.

Ellie stood tall and tried to breathe slowly through her nostrils. No, it wasnt an attack. The grey was still at the roots. It was her pomade. The smell was too strong. She knew it when she bought it, but shed let vanity trump logic. Smells were dangerous. She should wash her hair. If she washed the Pomade out, got rid of the smell. Shed be okay.

Ellie glanced at the clock. 7:45. She was meeting KP at the corner. Shed be late. Again. She had a history test this morning, too. Shit, no time for a shower. She had back-to-back classes today, and it would be impossible to get to the school gym showers. She would have to wash the smell out in a bathroom sink at school. It would all be okay.

The smell of eggs and oatmeal filled the staircase as she made her way down. These smells didn’t turn her stomach. These smells enveloped her up in a cozy blanket. She wished she could go into the kitchen, wrap herself in the safety of her mother and breakfast. But she couldn’t. Her mother would take one look at her and know something was wrong. If she saw the way Ellie was rubbing her temples with her palms . Theyd made a deal. And Ellie knew she had to keep it.

Hand clenched on the railing.

Ellie, breakfast is ready! Her mom called from the kitchen.

Sorry Mom, Ellie tried to keep her voice even. Her mother could not know. No way. Shed promised. She swore. No More.

Im totally late. History test this morning. KP and I are studying on the way

But Ellie her mother began.

Ellie knew what shed say. The doctors said a full breakfast would help: that protein would keep her brain clear. What about your vitamins?

A loud beat shuddered through Ellies ears. Her heart beat at volume 20. What if is wasnt the pomade?

Ellie closed the front door before her mother could even see her. The skin on her legs was beginning to crawl: prickling and scratching from the seams of her socks.

An attack was beginning, and Ellie had no choice but to stop it.


Don’t forget to enter the contest for a chance to win 20signed books by the authors on TEAM TEAL! To enter, you need to know that my favorite number isFIVE (5).Add up all the favorite numbers of the authors on TEAM TEALand you’ll have the secret code to enter for the grand prize!

If you like, you can also enter my giveaway for a signed copy of my debut novel In A World Just Right. Just click on the Rafflecopter link below.

a Rafflecopter giveaway


To keep going on the hunt, check out the next author!





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Remember, the feeling you get from a good run is far better than the feeling you get from sitting around wishing you were running.

— Sarah Condor