Stolen

Stolen

by Lucy Christopher
Stolen

Stolen

by Lucy Christopher

Paperback

$12.99 
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Overview

Winner of the Michael L. Printz Award

* “An emotionally raw thriller…a haunting account of captivity and the power of relationships.” — Publishers Weekly, starred review

The captivating, disturbing, and heartbreakingly beautiful thriller from award-winning and critically acclaimed author, Lucy Christopher.

A girl: Gemma, 16, at the airport, on her way to a family vacation.

A guy: Ty, rugged, tan, too old, oddly familiar, eyes blue as ice.

She steps away. For just a second. He pays for her drink. And drugs it. They talk. Their hands touch. And before Gemma knows what's happening, Ty takes her. Steals her away. To sand and heat. To emptiness and isolation. To nowhere. And expects her to love him.

Written as a letter from a victim to her captor, Stolen is Gemma's desperate story of survival; of how she has to come to terms with her living nightmare—or die trying to fight it.


Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780545170949
Publisher: Scholastic, Inc.
Publication date: 04/01/2012
Pages: 320
Sales rank: 34,973
Product dimensions: 5.20(w) x 7.90(h) x 0.60(d)
Age Range: 14 - 18 Years

About the Author

Lucy Christopher's novel STOLEN was named a Printz Honor Book by the ALA and received England's Branford Boase award and Australia's Gold Inky for best debut. In a starred review, PUBLISHERS WEEKLY called it "an emotionally raw thriller...a haunting account of captivity and the power of relationships." She is also the author of FLYAWAY, a novel for younger readers, and THE KILLING WOODS, a novel for young adults. Lucy lives in Monmouth, Wales. Visit her at www.lucychristopher.com and follow her on Twitter @LucyCAuthor.

Read an Excerpt

It felt like we were flying. Fresh air hit me, smelling like flowers and cigarettes and beer. There were other people, somewhere, talking softly, shrieking like monkeys when they laughed. You pulled me through some shrubs, then around the corner of a building. A twig caught in my hair. We were near the rubbish bins. I could smell rotting fruit. You pulled me to you again, tilting my face and saying something. Everything about you was fuzzy, floating on the fumes of the bins. Your beautiful mouth was moving like a caterpillar. I reached out and tried to catch it. You took my fingers in yours. The warmth of you shot from my fingertips right up my arm. You said something else. I nodded. Some part of me understood. I started getting undressed.

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