When not writing or doing book covers, Tatiana Vila can be found binge-watching series, painting cool abstract stuff, eating way too many candies, and fantasizing about interior design makeovers. Her motto: let the mind run wild.
Check out some of her cool book cover designs at her website:
www.viladesign.net

Ice Queen. That's what everyone calls Dafne at school. The girl with the striking looks of a Raven Princess but whose cold-steeled touch freezes everyone in her way. Her reputation works for her and she even likes it. People don't mess with her—except for her sister's infuriatingly handsome boyfriend, Ian, who loves pushing her subzero temper to its limits.

Life in Berryford is flowing exactly as she wants it—no drama, no boy trying to get into her pants—until she starts noticing odd, glazed-eyed students everywhere. Something weird is happening and, unusual enough for her, she needs to find out why. But when people start falling into a coma with no reason, among them Dafne's sister, she decides to take the matter in her hands, because if her intuition is right, this isn't something doctors or virologists can fight. This is something…more.

With frustration and guilt leading her way, and Ian forcing himself to her side, Dafne will step onto a road that'll open her eyes to why ignorance is bliss, why hate is so close to love, and why our imagination might be the most dangerous weapon ever known.


Breakaway

I was standing in a beautiful sunlit garden, facing a tall round fountain. The sky above was deep blue, filled with puffy white clouds, and the normal-looking grass was littered with friendly daisies.


I wasn't in Chimera anymore, that much was obvious.


Across from the fountain, two wide and low wooden chairs sat underneath the comforting shadow of a tree, and a couple of feet away, a blue and white picnic blanket was spread on top of the bladed grass. I walked, circling the fountain, and froze with a clench in my heart because of what I spotted sitting on the edge. Buffy.


Since the central pillar of the fountain was thick, I hadn't been able to see her from behind. She was wearing a yellow summer dress, its flowy skirt stopping below her knees, and a book was splayed wide open in her hands. This Buffy didn't look pain-stricken or sad like I'd expected; this Buffy was radiant and content. Could have Andras been right?


Chapter 50