Spotlight on I Killed Zoe Spanos (Kit Frick), Excerpt, Plus Giveaway! ~ (US Only)
Today we're excited to spotlight I Killed Zoe Spanos by Kit Frick.
Read on for more about Kit and her book, an excerpt, plus an giveaway!
Meet Kit Frick!
Kit Frick is a novelist, poet, and MacDowell Colony fellow from Pittsburgh, PA. She studied creative writing at Sarah Lawrence College and received her MFA from Syracuse University. When she isn’t putting complicated characters in impossible situations, Kit edits poetry and literary fiction for a small press and edits for private clients. She is the author of the young adult thrillers I Killed Zoe Spanos, All Eyes on Us, and See All the Stars, all from Simon & Schuster / Margaret K. McElderry Books, as well as the poetry collection A Small Rising Up in the Lungs from New American Press. Kit is working on her next novel.
Meet I Killed Zoe Spanos!
This gripping thriller follows two teens whose lives become inextricably linked when one confesses to murder and the other becomes determined to uncover the real truth no matter the cost.
What happened to Zoe won't stay buried...
When Anna Cicconi arrives to the small Hamptons village of Herron Mills for a summer nanny gig, she has high hopes for a fresh start. What she finds instead is a community on edge after the disappearance of Zoe Spanos, a local girl who has been missing since New Year's Eve. Anna bears an eerie resemblance to Zoe, and her mere presence in town stirs up still-raw feelings about the unsolved case. As Anna delves deeper into the mystery, stepping further and further into Zoe's life, she becomes increasingly convinced that she and Zoe are connected--and that she knows what happened to her.
Two months later, Zoe's body is found in a nearby lake, and Anna is charged with manslaughter. But Anna's confession is riddled with holes, and Martina Green, teen host of the Missing Zoe podcast, isn't satisfied. Did Anna really kill Zoe? And if not, can Martina's podcast uncover the truth?
~ Excerpt ~
Herron Mills, NY
WE SPREAD OUT our blanket on the white sand, and immediately Paisley vaults into the water. “She’s a strong swimmer,” Emilia assured me over breakfast, before dropping us off for the day. Her arms were impressively toned in a sleeveless silk V-neck, and her skin had a dewy, well-moisturized glow. I wondered if she always looked this polished at 8:00 a.m. “You have to keep an eye on her, but you don’t have to get in.”
Which is a good thing, because even lathered up with SPF 50, the sun will burn me to a crisp in no time. Like her father, Paisley is already tan, something my skin just doesn’t do. I position myself on my stomach in full shade beneath the Bellamys’ red-and-white-striped beach umbrella, chin propped on my hands to get a clear view of Paisley splashing around in the surf. The beach is small—long, but narrow, and it’s easy to keep her in sight. In under five minutes, Paisley’s found a friend, a tall, red-haired girl. They seem to know each other, presumably from school. I catch snippets of their conversation, something about sand crabs and Moana.
I take a deep breath in, and my lungs fill with the salt air I’ve been craving since I was offered the position last month. Here, finally, is my fine sea mist. My thin gull cries. Blue water lapping at white sand. It’s crowded, but in an exclusive, permit-only kind of way, nothing like the busy city beaches Kaylee and I used to haunt on long summer afternoons.
Under the umbrella, I free my hair from its elastic and let it blow free, then plop an oversize sun hat on my head. Can’t be too careful. I accepted Emilia’s offer of a couple magazines to bring along, but I’m too nervous to take my eyes off Paisley. What if she runs off when I’m reading about this summer’s hostessing trends? I’m reassured to see lifeguards stationed every few yards, but it’s my first day nannying. I’m not taking any risks.
I keep my eyes trained on Paisley but can’t stop my mind from wandering. The Bellamys’ lives seem so effortless. Tom does whatever makes him his millions in the city while Emilia runs her graphic design business from her home studio. They’re both pursuing their passions; they have this beautiful kid and a beautiful house minutes from the beach. It’s everything I never had growing up in Bay Ridge with Mom. She’s a tech at a medical lab part time, but they can’t give her enough hours, so she cleans apartments too. The work hurts her back, so she takes too much Oxy, Demerol, Vicodin . . . the stream of pills is endless. I used to be thankful she was too out of it to care when the school complained about my spotty attendance record. When the cops brought me home for partying, again. When I’d pocket a few pills for Kaylee and Starr and me. Until I kind of started wanting her to care.
My gaze skates across the shoreline in front of me, and for a moment, I can’t find Paisley. In my mind’s eye, I see her floating facedown too far out, where the water is dark and choppy, blond hair framing her small head like a halo. The sun is beating down on the umbrella overhead, but I’m suddenly cold. I’d had my eyes locked on her, but then . . . somewhere around Vicodin and cop cars I must have lost my focus. I’m about to scramble to my feet and start shouting her name when, a few yards to the left, Paisley and her friend burst out of the ocean and onto the beach, holding hands and shrieking. In a minute, they’re kneeling on the sand, sifting for shells. I let out a slow, shaky breath.
“Z?” My head jerks up. A couple feet in front of me, a boy is leaning over, hands propped on knees, head tilted to the side to peer under my umbrella rim. He’s a year or two older than me, scrawny but muscular, wearing red lifeguard trunks with the Herron Mills Guard insignia sewn on in white. He’s blocking my view of Paisley. I roll off my stomach and shove myself up to a sitting position. With Paisley back squarely in my sight, I tug my shades down to the tip of my nose and squint at him.
“Do I know you?” I ask. He’s another redhead, hair buzzed short and freckles dusting his nose. I’m pretty sure I don’t know him.
“Oh.” He takes a step back, then sinks into a squat, one freckled hand pressed to his chest. After a minute, he scrubs it across his face and blows a long stream of air through his lips. “Christ, I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else.” He looks like he’s seen a ghost.
I slip my sunglasses back on and gather my hair in my hands, taming it again with an elastic. “That’s okay. I’m Anna. I’m nannying for the Bellamys this summer?”
“Oh sure,” he says. “That’s my little sister Paisley’s playing with. I’m Kyle.” He extends his hand toward me, and I have to reach out to grasp it. “Welcome to Herron Mills.”
I Killed Zoe Spanos
By: Kit Frick
Publisher: Margaret K McElderry
Release Date: June 30th, 2020
One winner will receive a copy of I Killed Zoe Spanos (Kit Frick) ~ (US Only)
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