Croak

Croak

Fed up with her wild behavior, sixteen-year-old Lex’s parents ship her off to upstate New York to live with her Uncle Mort for the summer, hoping that a few months of dirty farm work will whip her back into shape. But Uncle Mort’s true occupation is much dirtier than shoveling manure. He’s a Grim Reaper. And he’s going to teach Lex the family business.    She quickly assimilates into the peculiar world of Croak, a town populated by reapers who deliver souls from this life to the next. But Lex can’t stop her desire for justice—or is it vengeance?—whenever she encounters a murder victim, craving to stop the attackers before they can strike again. Will she ditch Croak and go rogue with her reaper skills? Amazon Exclusive: So You Want To Reap Some Souls: A Grim's Checklist by Mort Bartleby, Mayor of Croak Think you've got what it takes to be a Grim? Well, you, my friend, are delusional. But for the moment, let's pretend that you're remotely qualified to join the ranks of the Grimsphere. Before you set out on your first shift you must take stock of your supplies, as there are a few things no Killer or Culler can reap without: Scythe Made out of rock, gem, or mineral, each handheld scythe is tailored specifically to the Grim who wields it. The Swiss Army Knife of the Grimsphere, your scythe will allow you to gain access to the ether, instantly travel across the country, and breach the space-time continuum faster than you can say "space-time continuum." Standard issue black hoodie Lightweight, durable, thermoregulated, and stylish, the black hoodie is the Grim's uniform of choice. Not only is it comfortable, but its pockets can hold dozens of souls. Plus, it makes a statement. (That statement is: I kill people.) Vessels You're going to need something to put all those souls in. (You didn't think you'd just shove them into your hoodie pocket like loose change, did you? What is this, amateur hour?) Vessels are the best tools for the job--small white orbs spun from the fibers of a black widow spider; they're strong enough to protect souls from the harshest conditions. Cuff A metal band worn around the wrist that is used to communicate with other Grims. No touch screen, no ringtones, no apps. Just cold hard iron. Your partner Reaping souls is a two-person job. The Killer releases the soul from the dead body, and the Culler collects that soul and places it into a Vessel. You partner is the person you will be with for ten hours a day, seven days a week. You will get to know them better than anyone you've ever met. You will be able to finish each other's sentences. You will know what the other person is thinking before they think it. But you will not fall in love with them. No matter how dreamy their eyes may be. And above all, a strong stomach I'll not mince words. As a Grim, you will see decapitations. Disembowlings. Amputations. Explosions. Cancer. Drownings. Fires. Car wrecks. Poison. Stabbings. And more blood than you've ever thought possible. So. You in? Praise for Croak "Go ahead and die laughing, knowing that the safe transport of your mortal soul will be the summer job of a sweetheart teen with godlike power and discipline problems. A lot of books make me wish I could live within their pages, but I wouldn't mind dying in this one." — Adam Rex, author of Fat Vampire "Creepy and hilarious." — VOYA, 4Q, 5P Praise for Scorch "An amusing blend of whimsy and humor with serious drama and blood." — Kirkus Reviews "Characters are always as clever as we wish we were. . . . An irresistible blend of impending doom, irreverent humor, hormone-fueled make-out sessions, and creative world-building make this sequel stronger than its predecessor and will leave readers dying for the next book." — School Library Journal Praise for Rogue "A gut-wrenching, laugh-out-loud, gritty, honest and brave ending to an appealing trilogy." — Kirkus Gina Damico is the author of Hellhole, Wax, and the grim-reapers-gone-wild books of the Croak trilogy. She has also dabbled as a tour guide, transcriptionist, theater house manager, scenic artist, movie extra, office troll, retail monkey, yarn hawker and breadmonger. A native of Syracuse, New York, she now lives in Los Angeles with her husband, two cats, one dog, and an obscene amount of weird things purchased from yard sales. Visit her website at www.ginadami.co . 4    "I gotta be honest, Lex," Uncle Mort said as they continued down the hill into town, slowing the bike so they could speak without yelling. "You look just about ready to soil yourself."    Lex shot him a glare, then eyed a sign at the side of the road that read Croak! Population: 78. The number clicked over to 80 as they passed.    She scrunched up her nose. "That was weird."    "But accurate."    Lex gazed at the handful of small buildings as they passed by. "I don't get it. Where's the town?" she asked, searching into the distance.    "You're in it."    "This is it? "    "It is small