This blogger enjoyed the book, calling it “…a down-right entertaining story all around. I look forward to reading future volumes.”
Another reviewer had this to say: “I have to say that I really enjoyed the book. It took the me as the reader on a roller coaster ride, stopping and spinning in a new direction in every chapter. Amazingly, with so many twists and turns, [the author] was still able to tie al the loose ends together and bring the story to a satisfying conclusion, while at the same time whetting the reader’s appetite for more.”
“An Uncommon Blue” is available in bookstores and from online retailers.
From the author: This scene is the point where Bruno’s life begins to spiral out of control. He’s already late for his final when he encounters a boy wearing an alloy glove, which is a precaution for small children to keep them from accidentally reacting (mixing colors) with other kids. Baptiste asks for Bruno’s autograph, but that’s not all he wants…
That’s cool of you to come all this way to see me. I guess I could do a quick signature.”
He handed me a pen and a candy wrapper. It was a strange choice of stationary, but I managed to scrawl a brief note on the waxy paper.
I’d already handed Baptiste his pen and was preparing to sprint to class when I noticed his expression. He looked ready to cry.
He hesitated. “I turned thirteen today and my mom says I’ve got to react with my older sister.”
The kid was thirteen? What was he doing wearing an alloy glove?
I put a hand on his back and guided him toward the History building. “Let’s walk.”
Baptiste had to jog to keep up with my strides.
“When I turned eight, I reacted with my grandma,” I said. “It doesn’t hurt.”
“But I don’t know what to do or how to hold my hand.”
More than anything I wanted to slap him on the back, tell him he’ll do great, and run off to save my future career, but something inside me wouldn’t allow it. The kid was probably my biggest fan, and he had risked a lot to come talk to me.
The least I could do was give him a few words of wisdom to treasure.
“It’s super easy. you just hold hands for a minute with your fires touching and it happens automatically. I know you’ll do great.”
Baptiste stopped. “Can you show me?”
It was a strange request, but since he was wearing the alloy glove, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to run him through the motions. I glanced toward the History building.
“Fine, but then I’ve seriously got to run, okay?”
I grabbed his glove with my light hand and pressed my palm into his. “See? Just like you see greens do sometimes when they meet. Of course they use their dark hands. Since you and your sister are both Blue, your shades won’t even change very mu—AAAHHH!”
My hand felt like it had swollen to several times its normal size. My arm jerked back reflexively, but my fingers were frozen in place. It was as if all my joints had fused together and would be forever intertwined with Baptiste’s hand. My fire flared, sending a tingling sensation up my arm.
In a matter of seconds it was over, and I wrenched my hand free.
“What the black was that!” My body was so full of adrenaline, I could have picked the kid up and thrown him halfway across campus. “Did you just paint me?” But how had it happened with the glove on?
It didn’t matter. The kid had forced a reaction and now he stood there grimacing as if waiting for me to knock his lights out.
Okay, so I was in shock and it was the only thing I could think of to scream but it brought a poker running sure enough. Straight from the History building.
“He painted me!”
Had the kid done it on purpose? Why would he want to react so badly with another Blue?
Unless . . . only then did it occur to me to take off Baptiste’s glove and see what shade his fire was. I turned, but Baptiste was gone.