release date: June 10, 2016
sub-genre: post-apocalyptic science fiction, dystopian horror
About The Matching:
In Falside, girls are a rare commodity; protected, controlled, and tracked by the administration. They spend their days idly waiting to be married off to the highest bidder.
When the marriage announcements include Tale’s lover, Freda, the women will do anything to stop the match from happening.
Their relationship is forbidden, and as members of the resistance, they’re already risking everything.
But as their attempts to stop the wedding fail, both women have to decide what they’re willing to sacrifice for love.
Excerpt:
Tale
stared at the pile of letters on her desk. She reached out with both
hands and messed them up, spreading them out. She smiled. Denver had
probably spent some time organising them by size, weight, envelope
colour, or, knowing him, the smell of the paper.
“Life is chaotic,” she mumbled. “May as well embrace it.”
She looked up at the blinking cursor on the screen in front of her. She leaned back and laced her fingers behind her head.
She
knew she had to cover what happened in The Hide—it would be an obvious
and questionable omission if she didn't—but what could she write? How
could she properly honour the lives of these women when they were
complete strangers to her? But, at the same time, as familiar as her own
reflection.
Tale dropped her head into her hands.
“Writer's block?”
She turned to see Denver leaning casually against the doorframe.
Tale shrugged. “I guess.”
“Occupational hazard. Want to chat it out? Or would you like a distraction?”
“Neither.” Tale turned back to the screen, and silently willed Denver out of the room.
“Where's Freda?”
Tale
sighed and turned her chair around again. “Being a good citizen.
Checking her ID strip in and out of doorways. Just idly shopping, like
all obedient women do.”
“Keeping up appearances, eh?”
“She wanted me to come with her, but there's only so many pots of face cream I can look at before wanting to blow my brains out.”
“You know it wouldn't be a bad thing for you to act normally once in a while.”
“As
far as the authorities are concerned I'm out window shopping, or
sitting in one of the small but pretty parks they provide us with.
Y'know, looking at flowers. Because that's what women like to do.” Tale
shook her head. “Institutionalised boredom. Who would have thought that
that's how they'd control the masses?”
Denver nodded at the spread of envelopes. “Are you opening them?”
“Not today. I think I need to keep Asteria's content a little bit non-confrontational for a while.”
“Don't want to catch the attention of the authorities with too much batshit crazy?”
“I
don't think it's the batshit crazy that will get them knocking at our
door. In fact, that's probably the thing that keeps us safe. They'll
come for us when we get too close to the truth.”
Denver
nodded. “I guess you're right. It would be naïve of us to think that
we're still going because the authorities don't know about us.”
“Exactly.
We can be as discreet as you like, and our readership can be as loyal
as ever, but there's bound to be someone handing over every single
issue.”
“So, you don't think we've ever come anywhere close to the truth?”
Tale shrugged. “I guess not.”
“So, what are you going to write today?”
“I honestly don't know.”
About Angeline Trevena
Angeline Trevena is a British dystopian horror author. She was born and bred in a rural corner of Devon, but now lives among the breweries and canals of central England.
In 2003 she graduated from Edge Hill University, Lancashire, with a BA Hons degree in Drama and Writing. During this time she decided that her future lay in writing words rather than performing them.
In 2003 she graduated from Edge Hill University, Lancashire, with a BA Hons degree in Drama and Writing. During this time she decided that her future lay in writing words rather than performing them.
Some years ago Angeline worked at an antique auction house and
religiously checked every wardrobe that came in to see if Narnia was in
the back of it. She's still not given up looking for it.
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