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Tuesday, November 12, 2019

Day Zero Blog Tour

Welcome To My Blog Tour Of Day Zero
Social Links:
Author Website
Twitter: @kdevosauthor
Facebook: @kellydevosbooks
Instagram: @kellydevos
Author Bio: KELLY DEVOS is from Gilbert, Arizona, where she lives with her high school
sweetheart husband, amazing teen daughter and superhero dog, Cocoa. She holds a B.A. in
Creative Writing from Arizona State University. When not reading or writing, Kelly can typically be
found with a mocha in hand, bingeing the latest TV shows and adding to her ever-growing sticker
collection. Her debut novel, Fat Girl on a Plane, named one of the "50 Best Summer Reads of All
Time" by Reader's Digest magazine, is available now from HarperCollins.
Kelly's work has been featured in the New York Times as well as on Salon, Vulture and Bustle.

Author: Kelly deVos
ISBN:  978-1335008480
Publication Date: 11/12/19
Publisher: Inkyard Press
Buy Links:
Harlequin :day-zero
Barnes & Noble :/day-zero-kelly-devos/

Book Summary:
Don’t miss the exhilarating new novel from the author of Fat Girl on a Plane, featuring a
fierce, bold heroine who will fight for her family and do whatever it takes to survive. Fans of
Susan Beth Pfeffer’s Life As We Knew It series and Rick Yancey’s The 5th Wave series will
cheer for this fast-paced, near-future thrill ride.
If you’re going through hell…keep going.
Seventeen-year-old coder Jinx Marshall grew up spending weekends drilling with her paranoid dad
for a doomsday she’s sure will never come. She’s an expert on self-heating meal rations, Krav Maga
and extracting water from a barrel cactus. Now that her parents are divorced, she’s ready to relax.
Her big plans include making it to level 99 in her favorite MMORPG and spending the weekend with
her new hunky stepbrother, Toby.
But all that disaster training comes in handy when an explosion traps her in a burning building. Stuck
leading her headstrong stepsister, MacKenna, and her precocious little brother, Charles, to safety,

Dr. Doomsday’s Guide to Ultimate Survival
Rule One: Always be prepared.
I exhale in relief when Makeeba pulls the car into the Halliwell’s Market parking lot. The store is one of the
only places in town with Extra Jolt soda, and I have to buy it myself because Mom won’t keep any in the
She thinks too much caffeine rots your brain or something. Halliwell’s is a low squat brown building that
sits across the street from the mall and is next door to the town’s only skyscraper.
The First Federal Building was supposed to be the first piece of a suburban business district designed to
rival the hip boroughs of New York. The mayor announced the construction of a movie theater, an
apartment complex and an indoor aquarium. But the New Depression hit and the other buildings never
The First Federal Building alone soars toward the clouds, an ugly glass rectangle visible from every
neighborhood, surrounded by the old town shops that have been there forever. Most of the stores are
We park in front of the market.
Our car nestles in the long shadow of the giant bank building. Charles gets out and stands on the
sidewalk in front of the car. Makeeba opens her door. She hesitates again. “Listen, I know you might not
want to hear this or believe it. But my book report wasn’t about hurting you or getting revenge. I’m trying
to get you to see what’s really happening here. That Carver’s election is the start of something really bad.
We could use you at the rally. You’re one of the few people who understands Dr. Doomsday’s work. You
could explain what he did. How he helped Carver cheat to win.”
“I’ve been planning this raid for months,” I say. My stomach churns, sending uncomfortable flutters
through my in-sides. I don’t know what it would mean to talk about my father’s work. What I really want to
do is pretend it doesn’t exist. Pretend the world is normal and whole.
I reassure myself with the reminder that there’s no way Makeeba is going to the rally either.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Charles give us a small wave. Before Makeeba can say anything else, I
get out and grab my backpack.
Inside Halliwell’s, I pick up a blue basket from the stack near the door. The small market is busy and full
of other people shopping after school or work. The smell of pine cleaner hits me as we pass the checkout
stations. They are super serious about germs and always cleaning between customers.
We come to the produce section, and I leave Makeeba and Charles at the Click N’Go rack checking out
the seed packets that my brother collects. Dad got Charles hooked on this computerized gardening that
uses an e-tablet and a series of tiny indoor lights to create the ideal indoor planter box. Each
week, they release a new set of exclusive seeds. Their genetic modifications are controversial.
All the soda is in large coolers that line one of the walls of the market. They keep the strange stuff in the
corner. Expensive root beers. Ramune imported from Japan. And! Extra! Jolt!
I put a few bottles of strawberry in my basket. I snag some grape too. For a second, I consider buying a
couple of bottles of doughnut flavor. But that sounds like too much, even for me. The chips are in the next
aisle. I load up on cheese puffs and spicy nacho crisps.
They keep the Click N’Grow kiosk in the store’s tiny produce section between small tables of apples and
bananas. Charles has selected several handfuls of seed packets. My brother dumps them in my basket.
Makeeba grimaces at the top packet. “I still don’t like that first one. It’s pretty. But still. It’s…carnivorous.”
Charles smiles. “It’s a new kind of pitcher plant. Like the Cobra Lily.” He points to the picture on the front
of the seed packet. “Look at the blue flowers. That’s new.”
“It eats other plants,” Makeeba says.
“You eat plants.”
“But I don’t eat people,” Makeeba says. “There’s got to be some kind of natural law that says you
shouldn’t eat your own kind.”
Charles giggles.
My brother’s gaze lands on my selection of soda and chips. “Can I get some snacks too?”
I usually don’t buy unhealthy snacks when I’m with my brother. I smuggle them in my backpack and have
a special hiding space in my desk.
“What’s your number?” I ask him.
My brother has type 1 diabetes, and he’s supposed to check his blood sugar after meals. He can have
starchy or sugary snacks only when his glucose level is good, and usually only on special occasions.
Charles pretends he can’t hear me. That’s not a good sign.
“Charles, what’s your number?”
He still doesn’t look at me. “I forgot my monitor today.” “Well, I have mine.” I kneel down and dig around
for the spare glucometer I keep in the front pocket of my backpack. By the time I get it out, Makeeba has
already pulled Charles out of his blazer and rolled up the sleeve of his blue dress shirt. I wave the device
over the small white sensor disk attached to my brother’s upper arm.
After a few seconds, the glucometer beeps and a number displays on the screen.
Crap. Crap. Crap.
“Charles! What did you eat today?”
My brother’s face turns red. “They were having breakfast-for-lunch day at school. Everyone else was
having pancakes. Why can’t I have pancakes?”
I sigh. Something about his puckered up little face keeps me from reminding him that if he eats too much
sugar he could die. “You know what Mom said. If you eat something you’re not supposed to, you have to
get a pass and go to the nurse for your meds.”
My brother’s shoulders slump. “No one else has to go to the nurse.”
Charles is on the verge of tears and frowns even more deeply at the sight of my basket full of junk food.
“Look,” I say. “There are plenty of healthy snacks we can eat. I’ll put this stuff back.”

“That’s right,” Makeeba says, giving Charles’s hand a squeeze. “We can get some popcorn. Yogurt. Um, I
saw some really delicious-looking fresh pears back there.”
“And they have the cheese cubes you like,” I add.
We go around the store replacing the cheese puffs and soda with healthy stuff. I hesitate when I have to
put back the Extra Jolt but I really don’t want to have to make my brother feel bad because I can drink
sugary stuff and he can’t. We pay for the healthy snacks and the seed packets.
I grab the bags and move toward the market’s sliding doors. I end up ahead of them, waiting outside by
the car and facing the store. The shopping center behind Halliwell’s is mostly empty. The shoe store went
out of business last year. Strauss Stationers, where everyone used to buy their fancy wedding invitations,
closed the two years before that. The fish ’n’chips drive-through is doing okay and has a little crowd in
front of the take-out window. Way off in the distance, Saba’s is still open, because in Arizona, cowboy
boots and hats aren’t considered optional.
I watch Makeeba and Charles step out of the double doors and into the parking lot. Two little dimples
appear on Makeeba’s cheeks when she smiles. Her long braids bounce up and down. Charles has a
looseness to his walk. His arms dangle.
There’s a low rumble, like thunder from a storm that couldn’t possibly exist on this perfectly sunny day.
Something’s wrong.
In the reflection of the market’s high, shiny windows, I see something happening in the bank building next
door. Some kind of fire burning in the lower levels. A pain builds in my chest and I force air into my lungs.
My vision blurs at the edges. It’s panic, and there isn’t much time before it overtakes me.
The muscles in my legs tense and I take off at a sprint, grabbing Makeeba and Charles as I pass. I haul
them along with me twenty feet or so into the store. We clear the door and run past a man and a woman
frozen at the sight of what’s going on across the street.
I desperately want to look back.
But I don’t.
A scream.
A low, loud boom.
My ears ring.
The lights in the store go off.
I’ve got Makeeba by the strap of her maxidress and Charles by the neck. We feel our way in the dim light.
The three of us crouch and huddle together behind a cash counter. A few feet in front of us, the cashier
who checked us out two minutes ago is sitting on the floor hugging her knees.
We’re going to die.
Charles’s mouth is wide-open. His lips move. He pulls at the sleeve of my T-shirt.
I can’t hear anything.
It takes everything I’ve got to force myself to move.

Leaning forward. Pressing my face into the plywood of the store counter, I peek around the corner using
one eye to see out the glass door. My eyelashes brush against the rough wood, and I grip the edge to
steady myself. I take in the smell of wood glue with each breath.
Hail falls in the parking lot. I realize it’s glass.
My stomach twists into a hard knot.
It’s raining glass.
That’s the last thing I see before a wave of dust rolls over the building.
Leaving us in darkness.
Excerpted from Day Zero by Kelly deVos, Copyright © 2019 by Kelly deVos. Published by Inkyard Press.

My thoughts
Raring: 4
Would I recommend it? Yes
Will I read more of the series? Yes
Would I read more by this author? Yes
Title : Day Zero

Usually the only time I pick up a book that involves politics is when it's a thriller, so I was surprised when I decided to give this one a try and I'm glad I did, because it actually had me hooked from the first page to the every end, one of the reasons and I would say the biggest reason was the twist and turns  that came with each new page and chapter, and at every turn it made you wonder about which of the characters was trustable or not . As well as non pack action throughout the whole book, as for the characters, the only one I had some trouble with was MacKeen, because there were times I just wanted to to tell her to grow up and act her age, but eventually she came to realize that but it took her a long while to do it, other than that I had no other problem with it at all, and can't wait to seen what happens in the next book .With that said I want to thank Harlequin Teen and NetGalley for letting me read and review it exchange for my honest opinion