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Neverworld Wake

"A 'clear your calendar' kind of one-day read." -MELISSA ALBERT, New York Times bestselling author of The Hazel World

Five friends. Only one can survive the Neverworld Wake. Who would you choose?

From the acclaimed New York Times bestselling author of Special Topics in Calamity Physics and Night Film comes an absorbing psychological suspense thriller in which fears are physical and memories come alive.

"A thriller that will grip readers from the start." --Hypable


It's been one year since graduation, and Beatrice Hartley has mixed feelings about joining her friends a weekend reunion.

     She's right to be worried. After a night out, they narrowly avoid a collision with a car on a deserted road. Or so they believe.

     Back at the mansion where they are staying, a mysterious man knocks on the door during a raging storm. He tells them that they must make a choice: one of them will live, and the rest will die. And the decision must be unanimous.

     Soon time backbends. Beatrice and her friends are forced to repeat that dreadful day so many times they lose count. With each replay, events twist and fears come alive in horrifying ways.

     This nightmare, this nothingness . . . this is the Neverworld Wake.

     To escape, they have to vote. But how do you choose who to kill? And then how do you live with yourself?

"
Beautifully creepy." --
The New York Times

"
You won't be able to stop reading until the mystery is unraveled." --
Refinery29

"A
dark and
twisty tale brimming with
psychological suspense." --
Bustle
Rezension
"Neverworld Wake is a shape-shifting binge read . . . It's a 'clear your calendar' kind of one-day read, singular as both a psychological thriller and a new addition to Pessl's uncategorizable canon." --Melissa Albert, New York Times bestselling author of The Hazel World

"Beautifully creepy . . . .A mystery within a mystery." --The New York Times

"[A]sophisticated novel ... similar to Libba Bray's acclaimed Going Bovine."-VOYA, starred review

"Pessl (Special Topics in Calamity Physics) adeptly creates a compelling nightmare world while maintaining a foothold in realism. Thought-provoking and suspenseful." --PW

"Unpredictable, exciting, and emotionally wrenching." --SLJ

"Pessl manages to keep her first-person narrative moving forward while her characters are stuck in time. An eloquent and haunting tale." --Kirkus Reviews

"This novel has ambition to spare, and teens looking for something odd, atmospheric, and twisty will likely be enthralled." --Booklist

"A dark and twisty tale brimming with psychological suspense." -Bustle

"An altogether eerie, philosophically challenging exploration of the ways in which our actions have consequences . . . the kind of book you'll tear through and then want to talk about with everyone you know immediately after finishing." -- Nylon

" . . . there's a broad range of readers who will find Neverworld a place in which to linger." --The Bulletin of the Center For Children's Books
Portrait
MARISHA PESSL is the author of Night Film and Special Topics in Calamity Physics, her bestselling debut, which was awarded the Center for Fiction's First Novel Prize and selected as one of the Ten Best Books of the Year by the New York Times Book Review. She lives with her husband and two children in New York City. Visit Marisha online at MarishaPessl.com and on Facebook, and follow @marishapessl on Twitter and Instagram.
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  • I hadn't spoken to Whitley Lansing--or any of them--in over a year.

    When her text arrived after my last final, it felt inevitable, like a comet tearing through the night sky, hinting of fate.

    Too long. WTF. #notcool. Sorry. My Tourette's again. How was your freshman year? Amazing? Awful?

    Seriously. We miss you.

    Breaking the silence bc the gang is heading to Wincroft for my bday. The Linda will be in Mallorca & ESS Burt is getting married in St. Bart's for the 3rd time. (Vegan yogi.) So it's ours for the weekend. Like yesteryear.

    Can you come? What do you say Bumblebee?

    Carpe noctem.

    Seize the night.

    She was the only girl I knew who surveyed everybody like a leather-clad Dior model and rattled off Latin like it was her native language.

    "How was your exam?" my mom asked when she picked me up.

    "I confused Socrates with Plato and ran out of time during the essay," I said, pulling on my seat belt.

    "I'm sure you did great." She smiled, a careful look. "Anything else we need to do?"

    I shook my head.

    My dad and I had already cleared out my dorm room. I'd returned my textbooks to the student union to get the 30 percent off for next year. My roommate had been a girl from New Haven named Casey who'd gone home to see her boyfriend every weekend. I'd barely seen her since orientation.

    The end of my freshman year at Emerson College had just come and gone with the indifferent silence usually reserved for a going-out-of-business sale at a mini-mall.

    "Something dark's a-brewin'," Jim would have told me.

    I had no plans all summer, except to work alongside my parents at the Captain's Crow.

    The Captain's Crow--the Crow, it's called by locals--is the seaside cafe and ice cream parlor my family owns in Watch Hill, Rhode Island, the tiny coastal village where I grew up.

    Watch Hill, Rhode Island. Population: You Know Everyone.

    My great-grandfather Burn Hartley opened the parlor in 1885, when Watch Hill was little more than a craggy hamlet where whaling captains came to shake off their sea legs and hold their children for the first time before taking off again for the Atlantic's Great Unknowns. Burn's framed pencil portrait hangs over the entrance, revealing him to have the mad glare of some dead genius writer, or a world explorer who never came home from the Arctic. The truth is, though, he could barely read, preferred familiar faces to strange ones and dry land to the sea. All he ever did was run our little dockside restaurant his whole life, and perfect the recipe for the best clam chowder in the world.

    All summer I scooped ice cream for tan teenagers in flip-flops and pastel sweaters. They came and went in big skittish groups like schools of fish. I made cheeseburgers and tuna melts, coleslaw and milk shakes. I swept away sand dusting the black-and-white-checkered floor. I threw out napkins, ketchup packets, salt packets, over‑21 wristbands, Del's Frozen Lemonade cups, deep-sea fishing party boat brochures. I put lost cell phones beside the register so they could be easily found when the panic-stricken owners came barging inside: "I lost my . . . Oh . . . thank you, you're the best!" I cleaned up the torn blue tickets from the 1893 saltwater carousel, located just a few doors down by the beach, which featured faded faceless mermaids to ride, not horses. Watch Hill's greatest claim to fame was that Eleanor Roosevelt had been photographed riding a redhead with a turquoise tail sidesaddle. (It was a town joke how put out she looked in the shot, how uncomfortable and buried alive under her plate-tectonic layers of ruffled skirt.)

    I cleaned the barbecue sauce off the garbage cans, the melted Wreck Rummage off the tables (Wreck Rummage was every kid's favorite ice cream flavor, a mash‑up of cookie dough, walnuts, cake batter, and dark chocolate nuggets). I Cloroxed and Fantasticked and Mr. Cleaned the windows an
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Beschreibung

Produktdetails

Einband Taschenbuch
Seitenzahl 336
Altersempfehlung 12 - 15
Erscheinungsdatum 05.06.2018
Sprache Englisch
ISBN 978-0-525-64445-3
Verlag Random House LCC US
Maße (L/B/H) 20.8/13.9/2.7 cm
Gewicht 347 g
Buch (Taschenbuch, Englisch)
Buch (Taschenbuch, Englisch)
Fr. 15.90
Fr. 15.90
inkl. gesetzl. MwSt.
inkl. gesetzl. MwSt.
zzgl. Versandkosten
Versandfertig innert 1 - 2 Werktagen,  Kostenlose Lieferung ab Fr.  30 i
Versandfertig innert 1 - 2 Werktagen
Kostenlose Lieferung ab Fr.  30 i
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