Replica (Replica, Book 1) by Jenna Black

By Jenna Black

Reproduction is the breathtaking new SF novel from JENNA BLACK, writer of the Faeriewalker series.
Sixteen-year-old Nadia Lake’s marriage has been prepared with the main strong kin within the company States. She lives a lifetime of privilege whether she has to place up with paparazzi monitoring her each circulate, each aspect of her inner most lifestyles tabloid fodder. yet her destiny is guaranteed, so long as she will be able to continue her ideal public image—no effortless feat while your betrothed is a infamous playboy. 

Nathaniel Hayes is the inheritor to the corporate that pioneered human replication: a know-how that each nation and each nation on the planet could kill to have. other than he’s extra attracted to sneaking round the seedy underbelly of the country previously referred to as ny than he's in studying to run his destiny corporation or dating his bride-to-be. She’s no longer precisely his type…not that he can inform a person that.

But then Nate turns up useless, and Nadia was once the final individual to work out him alive.

When the hot Nate wakes up within the replication tanks, he is familiar with he should have died, yet with a reminiscence that purely reaches to his final reminiscence back-up, he doesn’t recognize what—or quite, who—killed him.

Together, Nadia and Nate needs to observe what relatively occurred with no revealing the secrets and techniques that those that run their global might kill to guard.

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Extra resources for Replica (Replica, Book 1)

Example text

Roy Jones? He’s—” Mrs. Jones began. “He’s a tall, pale sort of kid—” “My Roy! ” shrieked the hookers between giggles. A black woman in a blond wig with stardust on her eyelids, did a high five with a white girl wearing a black wig and midnight dust on her eyelids—they took turns mimicking Mrs. Jones’s pensive stance, wringing their hands and chanting, “My Royee! ” She leaned close and implored with her eyes. ” “Ahh, she’ll be taken care of, ma’am,” said Cole, not knowing what else to say. He drew Catz aside, “Hey, Catz, psi this for me.

Cole said, “I’ll see you ladies later,” and walked on, kicking through the refuse of an overturned trash can. A cockroach big as a mouse ran over the toe of his boot; he kicked the insect angrily away, and it rebounded from the windshield of a parked Mini-Cad steamcar. He went to a combination phone booth and news kiosk, sat on the metal stool, inserted his ITF card in the slot, and punched 31 the code for magazines. The directory of available magazines appeared on the vid screen over the phone.

He looked around for something to throw, some way to stop it. But it got a full block’s acceleration behind it before it struck City. This time he gave way and the car passed over him and piled into the corner where concrete stairway met the brick building’s face. It wrenched sideways, its tailfin gouging the brick wall; a shower of concrete dust and a hiss of steam. Then, except for a ticking noise from the car’s engine, all was quiet. All was quiet—for five seconds. Till a police siren sounded and drew near.

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