Elite
by
Rachel Van Dyken
Released:
October 14, 2014
Forever
Trade Paperback
277 pages
For
Tracey Rooks, life with her grandparents on a Wyoming farm has always been
simple. But after her grandmother's death, Tracey is all her grandfather has.
So when Eagle Elite University announces its annual scholarship lottery, Tracey
jumps at the opportunity to secure their future and enters. She isn't expecting
much-but then she wins. And life as she knows it will never be same . . .
The
students at Eagle Elite are unlike any she's ever met . . . and they refuse to
make things easy for her. There's Nixon, gorgeous, irresistible, and leader of
a group that everyone fears: The Elect. Their rules are simple. 1. Do not touch
The Elect. 2. Do not look at The Elect. 3. Do not speak to The Elect. No matter
how hard she tries to stay away, The Elect are always around her and it isn't
long until she finds out the reason why they keep their friends close and their
enemies even closer. She just didn't realize she was the enemy -- until it was
too late.
_______________________________________________________
Guest Reviewer today at End of Story, Next Book Blog:
Sonia Peixinho
I will start by saying that Rachel Van Dyken has quickly
become one of my favorite authors. The Elite series is completely amazing. It
was so much more than I was expecting. I went into to it blind and got so
engrossed in it, I could not put it down.
The series started out a bit confusing but in a "what
the hell is going on" kind of way.
As the story went on things started making sense, then just when you
thought you pieced things together -- things got crazy again.There was romance,
anxiety, drama and suspense. A must read
for sure.
Sonia's rating: 5/5 stars
Excerpt:
“Are you
lost?” a deep voice asked from behind me. I turned around and quickly came face
to face with the same guy I’d seen before. Only this time he had three friends
with him, not one. Lucky me.
“Nope.
Apparently I live in the United States.” I gave him my best smile and tried to
lift my heavy suitcase with my free hand. It didn’t budge and I almost fell
over. Awesome.
“I’m
Nixon.” He moved to stand in front of me. His icy stare did weird things to my
body. I’m pretty sure what I was experiencing was called a panic attack. Every
part of my body felt hot and then cold, as if I was going to explode any
minute.
“Tracey,
but everyone calls me Trace.” I held out my hand.
He stared
at it like I was diseased.
I quickly
pulled it back and wiped it on my jeans.
“Rules.”
“What?” I
took a step back.
The guy
from before named Chase left the waiting group and approached us. “He’s right.
As cute as you are, Farm Girl, someone needs to tell you the rules.”
“Can it
be fast?” I asked with an overwhelming sense of irritation. I was tired,
jet-lagged, and about five seconds away from crying again. I’d never done
public school, let alone a private Elite school where the guys were tattooed,
pierced, and better looking than Abercrombie models.
“You hear
that, Chase?” Nixon laughed. “She likes it fast.”
“Pity.”
Chase winked. “I’d love to give it to her slow.”
I gulped.
The two guys behind them laughed hysterically and high-fived each other.
“The
rules.” Chase began circling me slowly, making me feel like one of those
carcasses vultures feed on. Fantastic.
“No
speaking to the Elect, unless you’ve been asked to speak to them.”
“Who are
the—”
“Nope.
You’ve already broken a rule. I’m speaking, New Girl.” Chase smirked. “Geez, Nixon,
this one’s going to be hard to break in.”
“They
always are,” Nixon replied, lifting my chin with his hand. “But I think I’ll
enjoy this one.”
Okay. It
was clear someone had just dropped me into a horror movie where I was going to
be offed at any minute.
“If an
Elect talks to you, never make eye contact. Because, technically, you don’t
exist. You’re just a pathetic excuse for a human being, and at this school,
you’re a real tragedy. You see, while one of the Elect is out running for
president and basically ruling the free world, you’ll be lucky to be working
for one of our companies. You follow the rules, and maybe we’ll throw you a
bone.”
Furious,
I glared at him, ignoring their second rule. “Is that all?”
“No,”
Nixon answered for Chase. This time his touch was smooth as he caressed my arm.
I tried to jerk away. His face lit up with a smile, and honestly, it was like
staring at a fallen angel. Nixon was gorgeous. He was an ass, but he was a
gorgeous ass. “You feel this?” His hand continued moving up my arm until he
reached my shoulder, and then his hand moved to my neck and his thumb grazed my
trembling lips. “Memorize it now, because as of this moment, you can’t touch
us. We are untouchable. If you as much as sneeze in our direction, if you as
much as breathe the same air in my atmosphere, I will make your life hell. This
touch, what you feel against your skin, will be the only time you feel another
human being as powerful as me near you. So like I said, feel it, remember it,
and maybe one day, your brain will do you the supreme favor of forgetting what
it felt like to have someone like me touching you. Then, and only then, will
you be able to be happy with some mediocre boyfriend and pathetic life.”
A few
tears slipped down my cheek before I could stop them. I knew I needed to appear
strong in front of Nixon and Chase. I just . . . I didn’t have it in me, not
when he would say such cruel things. I choked back a sob and stared them down,
willing the rest of the tears to stay in. I didn’t care who these guys were.
They had no right to treat me like this, though it still stung. I so
desperately wanted to fit in.
He jerked
his hand away from my face. “Pathetic. Are you going to cry? Really?” Nixon
scowled and held out his hand to Chase. Chase handed him some Purell.
“Don’t
want to get farm on my hands, you understand.” Nixon smiled such a mean smile
that I literally had to clench my hands at my sides to keep from punching him
in the face and getting expelled.
“Don’t
even think about it, New Girl. You touch me, I tell the dean, who just so
happens to be Phoenix’s dad. We control the teachers because, guess what? My
dad pays for everything. Now, if you have any questions about what we talked
about here, please direct them to Tex and Phoenix, ’kay?”
The two
guys who had been standing back from us waved and then flipped me off.
“That’s
how they say hello,” Nixon explained. “All right, Chase, it seems our job here
is done. Oh, and Farm Girl, don’t forget. Classes start tomorrow. Welcome to
Hell.”
Bonus excerpt of the same scene found in
ENFORCE, which is ELITE told from Nixon/Chase's POV, coming out in Spring 2015
Enforce
(Elite from Nixon/Chase’s POV)
Nixons POV
Chapter One
Nixon
I watched as the parade of cars made their way through the black iron gates, as
if somehow those gates would protect them if the country went to war. Funny,
they had no clue that the war—Lucifer himself, was already parading around
inside, safe from the police- the feds- anyone who would be a threat.
Safe from everyone but me.
My eyes flickered to Phoenix on my right, he grinned as a new girl walked up to
him and gave him a flirty wave.
I elbowed him hard in the ribs.
His grin turned sour as he glared at the girl and flipped her off.
Remember
your place.
I’d said it once, twice, a million times to the guys, and they were still
struggling with the idea that they weren’t here to go to school, they weren’t
here to make friends. We weren’t at peace. We were in a freaking war zone.
And Phoenix’s family was our only key to redemption.
“That seems to be the last of them.” Chase’s cool gaze surveyed the main road
that led into campus. It was easier on security to have one road in and one
road out. Too bad life wasn’t that convenient.
If someone didn’t belong—it would take us minutes, scratch that, seconds to
eliminate them, their family, all while making it look like a very unfortunate
accident.
“Wait,” Tex squinted towards the iron gates, “I think there’s one more car.”
“The hell there is.” I muttered, “I counted the cars, I’ve looked at the lists,
we aren’t missing anyone.”
Chase yanked the list out of my hand and started reading through the names of
all the freshman enrollees. His grin made me about lose my shit as he lifted
his head and handed back the paper.
“I hear Wyoming’s beautiful this time of year.”
“What?” I jerked the list away and started greedily reading through the names.
One stood out.
Trace Rooks, Female, 18, Casper, Wyoming.
“Great.” I dropped the list onto the ground and smirked, “A girl who probably
smells like cow shit. What’s her background?”
Nobody answered.
I said it louder, this time grinding my teeth together.
Tex was the first to answer, “We couldn’t really find any.”
“Couldn’t. Really. Find. Any.” I repeated. “What the hell is that supposed to
mean?”
“Look,” Tex shook his head, “We have Sergio on it, but the girl doesn’t really
have a lot of information about her. Parents dead, Grandma dead, Grandpa her
only living relative and somehow her social as well as her birth certificate
were both lost.”
“Lost.” I licked my lips. I told my head not to go there, told my heart to stay
in my damn chest and stop hoping as images flooded my mind. Dark hair, dark
eyes, “Nixon, I’ll save you.”
“Dude, you okay?” Chase elbowed me.
“Let’s go welcome her to Eagle Elite.”
Nobody moved.
“I said,” I started marching towards the girls’ dorms, “Let’s go welcome her.”
“Why do I have a feeling this is a really bad idea?” Tex said under his breath.
“For once, Tex, keep your mouth shut and stay in the background, paste a shit
eating grin on your face and let me and Chase deal with this. Do you think you
can do that? Hmm?”
“Take a Xanax.” Phoenix grumbled.
I sent a seething glare in his direction.
He mumbled a curse and walked off with Tex to wait by the tree while we
continued the next few feet to the girls’ dorms.
The car was a rental.
The grandpa was ancient.
The girl was…young.
And she had shit as belongings. Her suitcase was covered with stickers, her
grandpa handed her a small box, and I could have sworn I saw a tear escape her
eye and roll down her smooth cheek.
“Hell no.” I grumbled, “She’ll be destroyed here.”
“Won’t last five minutes.” Chase agreed.
“Tears.” I wiped my face with my hands, “Tell me I’m not seeing tears.”
“Girls don’t cry here.”
“They don’t.” I agreed.
“She isn’t like them.”
“No.”
“We need Mo.”
I laughed at that, “We need a miracle.” With a curse, I quickly dialed the
number for orientation and made arrangements for the New Girl to be moved to
the United States room. Mo was supposed to be on that same floor. I figured she
needed all the help she could get. No way would little Wyoming survive the year
with anyone else, not that I was happy about it. I mean in hindsight that was
probably my first mistake.
I’d officially invited her into my life—by way of my sister.
“New girl’s here.” I said loud enough for Tracey to turn around and gape. “So
squeaky clean and innocent. Like a little lamb, right, Chase?” I tilted my head
and offered her a smirk.
The old man reached in his jacket. It was a move I knew well. Another clue. He
wasn’t what he said he was. He wasn’t who he
said he was. As if noticing my calculating glare, he removed his hand and
offered a forced smile, “A welcoming committee? This place sure is nice.”
I had to respect his control. The way he protectively stood in front of Tracey
as if he was the only thing standing in the way of my devouring her.
“Is there a problem?” He scratched his head, causing his shirt sleeve to fall,
revealing a small tattoo. One I’d seen as a child but couldn’t place.
“Do I know you?” I blurted.
He laughed, “Know any farmers out in Wyoming?”
It was his tone that convinced me, the way his shook his head slightly, waiting
for my challenge. It was the same look my Uncle gave me when he wanted me to
stop pushing.
It was the look that my dad taught me when I was ten and witnessed my first
torture.
The girl was still staring at us. Easy target. I’d leave the old man alone, he
reminded me too much of mine. And I didn’t need that reminder, not now.
I lifted my arms and stretched lazily.
The girls eyes went wide as she stared at my body.
Chase hit me in the stomach.
I sauntered forward and tilted her chin towards me, closing her mouth in the
process. “Much better,” I licked my lips and fought the urge to kiss her. Yeah,
I was losing my shit. “We’d hate for our charity case to choke on an insect on
her first day.” Her lips trembled as she looked from me to her Grandpa. I
released her before she could do anything, and walked past, with Chase in tow.
I needed to talk to the girl at registration anyways. We disappeared behind the
building, but I’d be back. I just needed the Grandpa to leave.
Within seconds the rental car was driving away. And the girl as all mine. My
heart thudded against my chest, and for a second, I regretted what I was about
to do.
But every possible outcome ended with either her death, or her in danger. And
for some reason, I didn’t want someone like her at Eagle Elite. She didn’t
belong in my world.
She deserved a picket fence.
A husband.
A good college experience without classmates who’d rather see her commit
suicide than survive the next four years.
They would destroy her.
And she would make it so damn easy to do so.
The only way—was to beat them to it. To be the first, marking her as our
target, our play-thing.
Nobody messed with what was mine.
And in the end, nobody would mess with her. They’d allow me to entertain them
with her innocence. I’d dangle her in front of them like a carrot, and at the
end of the day, she’d be untouchable.
I sighed as she looked up at the building gaping like someone who’d been
homeschooled and never seen a sky scraper before.
She was too skinny.
I made a mental note to get her one of my access cards—she didn’t need to know
how much they cost—or that every single student at EE would kill to have one.
Mo would take care of the rest.
She’d eat with us.
She’d want for nothing.
It was the least I could do after what I was about to make her endure.
Licking my lips I approached her again, this time, damning myself to hell with
each step I took. “Are you lost?”
“Nope.” She grinned, damn it made her prettier. “Apparently I live in the
United States.” With a shrug she tried and failed to lift her heavy suitcase
and nearly toppled over onto her cute ass.
I muffled a laugh, knowing that Chase was doing the exact same thing. Being
mean to her would be like kicking a puppy. But the world was ugly. I just hated
that I would be her tutor in the ways of reality—her prince of darkness.
Damn, I would have done anything to be the hero.
“I’m Nixon.” I stood directly in front of her, shifting my eyes from her poorly
fitting clothes to her ugly shoes.
“Tracey, but everyone calls me Trace.” She held out her hand.
I itched to touch it.
To touch her skin.
Instead, I scowled, shook her hand, then wiped that same hand on my jeans as if
she was diseased.
“Rules.”
“What?” She took a step back.
Chase moved past me, “He’s right. As cute as you are, Farm Girl, someone needs
to tell you the rules.”
Her gaze narrowed, “Can it be fast?”
Yeah, again, I almost lost my mind. Chase was probably ready to shit his pants.
The last person that talked back to him was Phoenix and that ended with a few
broken bones and a trip to the dentist.
“You hear that Chase?” I said amused, “She likes it fast.”
“Pity,” Chase took a step closer, nearly touching her with his body, “I’d love
to give it to her slow.” His eyes raked her in, as if she was the first girl
he’d ever seen in his entire existence. Jealousy surged through me. What he
hell? She wasn’t his. Not that she was mine, but still. He was standing too
close, too close.
“The rules.” He stepped back. My heart beat returned to normal, “No speaking to
the Elect, unless you’ve been asked to speak to them.” He circled around her,
staring a little long at her ass before he continued.
“Who are the— “
“Nope. You’ve already broken a rule. I’m speaking, New Girl.” Chase smirked.
“Geez, Nixon, this one’s going to be hard to break in.”
“They always are.” I said without taking my eyes from her, “But I think I’ll
enjoy this one.” The first true thing I’d said. I would enjoy it too much. I’d
enjoy her too much, because she reminded me of someone I used to know. Someone
who offered to save me, when I was already past saving, someone who wiped my
tears, and cried as if they were her own.
Chase continued with the rules. Making me sicker as her face continued to fall.
Finally she asked, “Is that all?”
“No.” Raw
desire pulsed through me as I approached her, needing to touch her, needing to
make sure she was real even though I knew I was acting like a complete and
utter lunatic. Chase and I would have words later. He knew me better than I
knew myself sometimes. I was going too far, pushing myself, pushing him.
My hand caressed her face, then moved down her smooth neck to her shoulder. I
wanted to claim her, to possess her, to make her scream—but not with fear, with
utter ecstasy. I had no idea who she was, but she made me want. And that was
the problem.
For the first time in years. I wanted.
I wasn’t allowed to want.
I had to die to myself.
Because in the grand scheme of things? It wasn’t about me. It was about blood,
family, protection. Blood in, blood out.
Her eyes dilated. Furious that she’d reacted so easily, upset with myself for
making my own body suffer, I snapped.
“You feel this? Memorize it now, because as of this moment, you can’t touch us.
We are untouchable. If you as much as sneeze in our direction, if you as much
breathe the same air in my atmosphere. I will make your life hell. This touch,
what you feel against your skin, will be the only time you feel another human
being as powerful as me near you. So like I said, feel it, remember it, and
maybe one day, your brain will do you the supreme favor of forgetting what it
felt like to have someone like me touching you. Then, and only then, will you
be able to be happy with some mediocre boyfriend and pathetic life.” Away from
me. Away from it all. Safe.
A few more tears escaped down her cheek.
And I knew in that moment. It was the beginning of the end.
My end.
My downfall.
My demise.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times and USA Today
Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she's not writing
you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while
watching The Bachelor. She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their
snoring Boxer, Sir Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can
follow her writing journey at www.rachelvandyken.com
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