A thief. An officer. A guardian.
Three strangers, one shared destiny . . .
When the Last Days came, the planet of Laterre promised hope. A new life for a wealthy French family and their descendants. But five hundred years later, it’s now a place where an extravagant elite class reigns supreme; where the clouds hide the stars and the poor starve in the streets; where a rebel group, long thought dead, is resurfacing.
Whispers of revolution have begun—a revolution that hinges on three unlikely heroes…
Chatine is a street-savvy thief who will do anything to escape the brutal Regime, including spy on Marcellus, the grandson of the most powerful man on the planet.
Marcellus is an officer—and the son of a renowned traitor. In training to take command of the military, Marcellus begins to doubt the government he’s vowed to serve when his father dies and leaves behind a cryptic message that only one person can read: a girl named Alouette.
Alouette is living in an underground refuge, where she guards and protects the last surviving library on the planet. But a shocking murder will bring Alouette to the surface for the first time in twelve years…and plunge Laterre into chaos.
All three have a role to play in a dangerous game of revolution—and together they will shape the future of a planet.
Power, romance, and destiny collide in this sweeping reimagining of Victor Hugo’s masterpiece, Les Misérables.
Genre: Retellings, Young
Adult, Science Fiction
Review:
Sky Without Stars by Jessica Brody and Joanne Rendell is fantastic. I am loving this book. If the cover doesn't grab you right away then the story will draw you in. As the reader you are introduced to three characters, Chatine, Marcellus, and Alouette. These three people couldn't be more different but they will all touch each others lives in a different way.
Chatine is a thief. Chatine has lived a hard life. She is considered to be part of the lowest part of society, the third estate. No one cares about her or others like her. Obviously she doesn't have the best outlook on life.
Marcellus is the son of a renowned traitor. Marcellus wants to be the best solider that he can be but he just isn't cut out for it. He is so used to being alone that he really just wants to be loved by anyone.
Alouette has a secret. She has lived underground her entire life. She grew up helping the sisters record history. Now she lives in a time that people don't remember the written word. Alouette wants nothing more than to go outside but once she is outside she discovers secrets about her past that she wasn't ready for.
I really enjoy these characters. Just as importantly, I enjoyed the world building. Brody and Rendell brought us a beautiful world that is so vivid. Even the drabby parts were described so beautifully. I really enjoyed this book. One thing I really appreciate is this book makes me feel like I am there and that I am part of the story.
I have read Les Miserables and I have to say that this is a great retelling of Les Miserables but I feel like a lot of backstory is left out compared to the book it is based on. I think someone who has not read Les Miserables won't have any issues with this story and they will probably breeze straight through it. Someone who has read it, will definitely notice the differences and the backstory that is missing.
You should definitely check out this book. I really like it and I think it is worth your time to read. Plus there are so many good and fun things coming out about this book. Check it out because I don't think you will regret it.
I have read Les Miserables and I have to say that this is a great retelling of Les Miserables but I feel like a lot of backstory is left out compared to the book it is based on. I think someone who has not read Les Miserables won't have any issues with this story and they will probably breeze straight through it. Someone who has read it, will definitely notice the differences and the backstory that is missing.
You should definitely check out this book. I really like it and I think it is worth your time to read. Plus there are so many good and fun things coming out about this book. Check it out because I don't think you will regret it.
Favorite Quotes:
High on a hill, the family built their Grand Palais under a vast climate-controlled dome. And in the flatlands below lived their chosen people.
Since the day she was born into this Regime, she was fated to die young. She would never see the stars. She would never feel the warmth of real Sol-light on her face. She would never escape.
He had to prove to himself, once and for all, that he was not his father’s son. He was a loyal grandson and a proud member of the Second Estate.
She was so sick of it. The secrets. The mysteries. The torn-out pages. The hidden boxes. She needed answers. And she needed them now.
The Map:
Excerpt:
Chapter One
Chatine
The rain was falling sideways in the Marsh. It was never a
straight downpour. It was always crooked. Just like the people here. Con
artists and hustlers and crocs, the lot of them.
Anyone can be a saint until they’re hungry enough.
Chatine Renard was perched high above it all, watching the
stream of people churn through the busy marketplace like clotted blood through
a vein. She was straddling an exposed metal beam that once connected the old
freightship to its roof.
At least, that’s what Chatine had been told—that the Frets were
once titanic flying vessels that soared across the galaxy, bringing her
ancestors to the planet of Laterre, the coldest and wettest of the twelve
planets in the System Divine. But years of neglect and crooked rain had
corroded the PermaSteel walls and ceilings, turning the staterooms in the
passenger freightships into leaky, mold-ridden housing for the poor, and this
cargo freightship into an open-air marketplace.
Chatine pulled her hood farther down her forehead in an attempt
to block her face. Much to her dismay, she’d noticed over the past few years
that her eyelashes had grown longer, her chest had filled out, her cheekbones
had become more pronounced, and her nose had slimmed to a dainty point, which
she despised.
She had streaked her face with mud before coming to the Marsh
today, but every time she caught sight of her reflection in a puddle or the
metal of a partially collapsed wall, she cringed at how much she still looked
like a girl.
So inconvenient.
The Marsh was far more crowded today than usual. Chatine leaned
forward and balanced on her stomach, hugging the beam to her chest as she
scanned the countless faces that passed beneath her. They were always the same
faces. Poor, downtrodden souls like her trying to find creative ways to stretch
their weekly wages.
Or con their neighbor out of a larg or two.
Newcomers were rare to the Marsh. No one outside of the Third
Estate bothered with the picked-over cabbages and mangy turnips for sale. With
the exception of Inspecteur Limier and his army of Policier droids tasked with
keeping the peace, the Frets and the marketplace in its center were normally
avoided at all costs by anyone who didn’t live here.
Which was why the man in the long coat immediately caught
Chatine’s eye. His wealth was written all over his groomed black beard,
matching hair, pressed clothes, and sparkling adornments.
Second Estate, to be sure.
She’d never known the First Estate to ever venture out of Ledôme.
The climate-controlled biodome sat high on the hill just outside the capital
city of Vallonay, shielding the First Estate from Laterre’s persistent
downpours.
And the slums below.
Chatine’s eyes raked over the man, taking in every stitch and
every button. Her gaze expertly landed on the gold medallion dangling like bait
from his neck. She didn’t have to see it up close to know it was a relic from
the Last Days, rescued from the burning embers of a dying planet. The Second
Estate loved their First World relics.
Five hundred largs easy, Chatine calculated in her head. Enough
money to feed an entire Third Estate family for weeks.
But it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the crocs in the
Marsh spotted the treasure too and made their play. Which meant Chatine had to
move fast.
Gripping the beam with both hands, she swung her legs over the
side and launched her body to the nearby catwalk, landing silently in a crouch.
Directly underneath her, the man continued farther into the marketplace,
weaving around the loose chickens that roamed the stalls searching for scraps.
His gaze swept left and right as though taking mental inventory of the space.
For a moment, Chatine wondered what he was doing here. Had he
gotten lost on his way back up to Ledôme? Or was he here on some kind of
business? But then she remembered the annual Ascension happening later today
and reasoned he was probably a foreman of a fabrique, come to round up his
workers who were skipping out on their shifts to get jacked up on weed wine,
all the while hoping to win a new life.
“Win a new life?” Chatine muttered to herself and let out a
bitter laugh.
Deluded fools, all of them.
She crept across the grid of overhead walkways and ramps,
skillfully ducking to avoid broken water pipes and leaping over giant chasms in
the grated floor. All the while, she kept a close watch on the man, making sure
she was never more than a few steps behind him.
He finally slowed near Madame Dufour’s stall, pulled an apricot
from his pocket, and took a large bite, the juice dripping into his beard.
Chatine’s mouth started to water. She’d only ever tasted an apricot once, when
a crate had fallen off the back of a cargo transporteur delivering fruit from
the hothouses to Ledôme.
Chatine watched Madame Dufour size the man up with sinister
fascination. The old croc was practically licking her lips at the sight of such
an easy mark.
It was now or never.
Ducking under the broken railing, Chatine grabbed onto the
raised rim of the walkway floor and somersaulted over the edge. She whipped her
body forward, fell three mètres down, and adeptly caught the beam below her.
She circled around until it rested against her hips and she could balance
there.
She was now only a mètre above the man’s head. Yet with the buzz
of the busy marketplace, no one even bothered to look up.
“What a pitiful sight,” the man said, taking another bite of his
apricot. He didn’t even bother to hide his disgust. The Second Estate rarely
did. It was something about being stuck in the middle, Chatine had always
noticed—not quite rulers and yet far from being one of the wretched like
her—that gave the Second Estate their shameless sense of arrogance.
They were almost more intolerable than the First Estate.
Almost.
Chatine’s gaze cut to the left, taking in the tower of empty
crates stacked up next to Madame Dufour’s stall. She shimmied along the beam
until she was directly above them. Then, she tipped forward, rotated around,
and kicked both feet out in front of her.
The crash was louder than she anticipated. The crates toppled to
the ground, avalanching around the man as he fell to his knees with a grunt.
Chatine moved quickly. Landing in a squat, she crawled through
the wreckage until she found the man and graciously helped him back onto his
feet. He was so busy brushing dust and cabbage leaves from his coat, he didn’t
even feel the medallion being lifted from his neck.
“Are you all right, Monsieur?” Chatine asked in her friendliest
tone, slipping the pendant into her pocket.
The man barely looked at her as he straightened his hat. “Quite
all right, boy.”
“You must be careful in the Marsh, Monsieur. It isn’t safe for
someone of your rank.”
“Merci,” he said dismissively as he tossed the apricot he’d been
eating toward Chatine.
She caught it and flashed him an appreciative smile. “Vive
Laterre.”
“Vive Laterre,” he echoed before turning away.
Chatine grinned at the man’s back as she turned on her heels and
slipped the half-eaten apricot into her pocket. It took all her strength not to
consume the entire thing here and now.
She knew the man would hardly even miss that gold medallion from
his neck. He probably had ten just like it back in his manoir in Ledôme. But to
her, it was everything.
It would change everything.
The wind picked up, howling through the stalls and biting viciously
at Chatine’s skin. She pulled her tattered black coat tighter around her,
trying in vain to stave off the chill. But the holes and ripped lining of her
clothes weren’t the problem. It was the hunger—the ribs poking through her
skin. There wasn’t a single shred of insulation left on her body.
But after that score, she was finding it hard to care.
As Chatine headed toward the south exit of the Marsh, weaving
through stalls selling moldy potatoes, slimy leeks, and pungent seaweed dragged
in from the nearby docks, there was a new lightness to her gait. A new
hopefulness in her step.
But just before passing through what used to be the old cargo
ship’s loading bay, Chatine felt a large hand clamp down on her shoulder and
she stopped dead in her tracks, a shiver running through her.
“So nice of you to help out a member of the Second Estate,” a
cold, robotic voice said. “I’ve never seen such chivalry from a Renard.”
The emphasis he placed on her last name made Chatine squirm. She
closed her eyes, mustering strength, and painted on a blithe smile. She slowly
turned around.
“Inspecteur Limier,” she said. “Always a pleasure.”
His stony expression didn’t change. It hardly ever did. The
circuitry implants on the left side of his face made it nearly impossible for
the inspecteur to express any emotion. Chatine often wondered if the man was
even capable of smiling.
“I wish I could say the same for you, Théo.” His tone was flat.
Only her parents called her Chatine. Everyone in the Frets knew
her as Théo. It was the name she’d given herself ten years ago, when they’d
first moved to the capital city of Vallonay and Chatine had decided that life
as a boy would be much less complicated than life as a girl.
Chatine clucked her tongue. “I’m sorry you feel that way,
Inspecteur.”
“What did you take from the kind monsieur?” Limier asked, his
half-human, half-robot voice clicking on the hard consonants.
Chatine refreshed her smile. “Whatever do you mean, Inspecteur?
I know better than to steal from the hand that feeds me.”
She nearly gagged on the words. But if they saved her from a
one-way ticket to Bastille—the price you paid for stealing from an upper
estate—then she could choke her way through them.
Chatine held her breath as the inspecteur’s circuitry flickered
on his face. He was computing the information, analyzing her words, searching
for hints of perjury. Over the past ten years of living in the Frets, Chatine
had learned how to lie. But lying to a human being was one thing. Lying to a
cyborg inspecteur, programmed to seek the truth, was quite another.
She waited, keeping her smile taut until the circuits stopped
flashing.
“Will that be all, Inspecteur?” Chatine asked, smiling sweetly
while pressing her hands against her tattered black pants. Her palms were
starting to sweat, and she didn’t want his heat sensors to pick up on it.
Then, slowly, Chatine watched the inspecteur’s gloved hand
extend toward her. With a soft touch that chilled her to the bone, he pushed up
her black hood to reveal more of her face. His electric orange eye blinked to
life, scanning her features. It seemed to linger a beat too long on her high,
feminine cheekbones.
Panic bloomed in her chest. Can it see who I really am?
Chatine hastily took a step back, out of the inspecteur’s reach,
and yanked her hood back down. “My maman is expecting me home,” she said. “So,
if you don’t mind, I’ll be going now.”
“Of course,” the inspecteur replied.
“Thank you, Inspecteur. Vive Laterre.”
As Chatine turned to leave, she felt her entire body collapse
with relief. She had done it. She had fooled his sensors. She was a better liar
than even she had come to believe.
“I’ll just need to check your pockets first.”
Chatine froze. She quickly surveyed her surroundings. She
spotted five Policier droids in her vicinity. More than usually roamed the
Marsh, due to the annual Ascension ceremony today. The droids—or bashers as
they were referred to around here—stood at almost twice the size of an average
man and their slate-gray exoskeletons crunched and whirred as they walked.
Chatine wasn’t afraid of them, though. She’d escaped Policier
droids plenty of times. They were fast and stronger than ten men, but they
still had their limitations. For instance, they couldn’t climb.
Careful not to move her head, Chatine glanced up, thanking her lucky
Sols that there was an old pipe running directly over her head. She refused to
get flown off to Bastille. A neighbor was currently serving three years for
stealing a measly sac of turnips. A First World relic lifted off a Second
Estater? She’d be looking at ten years minimum. And hardly anyone lived that
long on the moon.
She slowly spun back around to face Limier. “Of course,
Inspecteur. I have nothing to hide.”
Flashing another smile, Chatine stuffed her hand into her pocket
and felt the medallion cool and smooth against her skin. The inspecteur once
again reached a hand in her direction. Then, before he could react, Chatine
hurled the apricot the monsieur had given her straight at the inspecteur’s
face. His circuitry sparked as his brain tried to make sense of the incoming
object. Chatine bolted, scrambling onto a table full of fabric scraps before
leaping toward the pipe.
For a second, she was flying, soaring above the inspecteur, the
shoppers in the Marsh, and the Policier droids who were just starting to take
notice of the disturbance. As she caught the pipe, she used her momentum to
circle her legs around until she was straddling the rusty, metal pole.
“Paralyze him!” Inspecteur Limier shouted to his droids, peering
up at Chatine. His circuitry was going haywire, like someone had hacked the
signal. “Now!”
The bashers maneuvered their bulky PermaSteel bodies around one
another, assembling into attack formation. Chatine knew she had to move
quickly. One rayonette pulse she could dodge, but five? That would be rough.
The pipe was too narrow to walk on, so Chatine shimmied across
it on her stomach, weighing her options. The north exit was out of the
question. It backed up to the Vallonay Policier Precinct, where she would
certainly run into more droids. There was a catwalk about three mètres ahead of
her. If she could reach it without getting shot, she could crawl the rest of
the way to the east exit, back near Madame Dufour’s stall.
A split second later, she felt the heat of the first rayonette
pulse whizz by the side of her face. She sucked in a sharp breath and shimmied
faster. A second droid took aim below her, its shot perfectly aligned at her
left knee. She braced herself for the impact. But just then, a group of drunk
exploit workers stumbled through the fray, arguing about who among them had the
most Ascension points stored up. One of them crashed right into the droid, and
the pulse barely missed her leg.
“Oh, excuse me, Monsieur,” the drunk worker slurred to the
droid, bowing ceremoniously. His friends broke out into hoots of laughter while
Chatine took the opportunity to slide the rest of the way across the rusted
pipe.
Thank the Sols for strong weed wine, she thought as she launched
herself toward the catwalk. She caught the railing with both hands just as a
third pulse was fired from below. This one glanced her left shoulder.
It wasn’t a direct hit, but it was enough. The pain was instant.
Like someone had scraped her skin with a blazing-hot knife. She bit her lip to
keep from crying out. The sound would only improve the droids’ aim.
Within seconds, her left arm started to lose sensation from the
paralyzeur now pumping through her blood. She scrambled to swing her feet up
over the ledge of the walkway but was unsuccessful. Now she was just dangling
there, her feet paddling against the air.
The droids shoved people aside as they zeroed in on her
location. More rayonette pulses tore past her, rippling and bending the air. It
was only a matter of time before another one found its target.
Chatine knew she needed a distraction. She spotted a crate
packed with chickens directly in front of her. She shook out her left arm,
trying to chase away the numbness that was spreading toward her fingers, but it
was no use. The paralyzeur was quickly working its way through her muscles.
Favoring her right hand, she gripped the railing as tightly as
she could and pumped her legs until she’d built up enough momentum to reach the
crate. She arched her body and kicked her legs out hard. The crate crashed to
the ground and busted open. The chickens squawked and tried to fly away, but
their useless wings barely allowed them to get off the ground.
The commotion was enough, though.
People were screaming, the stall owner was desperately trying to
wrangle the loose birds, and the Policier droids fought to barrel through it
all. But their efforts only managed to rile up the birds even more. They
fluttered about, scraping people with their sharp claws.
The droids started firing with abandon. But with all the chaos
below, their aim was poor. They hit more chickens than anything else. The birds
absorbed the stun of the rayonettes and fell limp to the ground. They wouldn’t
be able to move again for a few hours.
With the droids distracted, Chatine was finally able to pull
herself onto the catwalk and crawl, one-handed, across the rusty, metal plank
before shimmying down a support beam next to Madame Dufour’s stall.
She glanced back to see the bashers still trying to push their
way through the crowd to reach her. But with the number of people in the Marsh
today and the riled-up chickens, it wasn’t an easy task.
Madame Dufour glared at Chatine, her wrinkled arms folded across
her chest. “Like father, like son,” she said, making a tsk sound with her
teeth. “Mark my words, boy, you’ll be rotting on the moon before the end of
this year.”
Chatine flashed her a goading grin before swiping a loaf of chou
bread from one of Madame Dufour’s crates and darting toward the exit.
“Arrête!” The old woman’s command sounded like a croak. “Get
back here, you wretched croc!”
“Thanks for breakfast!” Chatine called back in a singsong voice.
And then, before the droids could track her or Madame Dufour
could catch her, Chatine was gone.
Once she’d put a good distance between herself and the
marketplace, she slowed to a walk and massaged her dead arm with the opposite
hand. It wasn’t the first time she’d been shot by a rayonette. And it probably
wouldn’t be the last. The sensation would return soon enough.
Chatine reached into her pocket and pulled out the pendant she
had lifted from the Second Estater. She sucked off the sweet apricot juice and
held the medallion in her open palm, studying it. For the first time, Chatine
noticed the ornate golden Sol carved into the surface. It was unlike any of the
three Sols that hung in the sky of the System Divine. This was a First World
Sol. Its brilliant, fiery rays flared out to the edge of the medallion. Chatine
reverently clasped the pendant around her neck, a rare genuine smile creeping
across her face.
She hadn’t seen the light of a Sol in nine years.
This was definitely a sign of good things to come.
Excerpted from Sky Without Stars by
Jessica Brody and Joanne Rendell. Copyright © 2019 by Jessica Brody and Joanne
Rendell. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or
reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Book Links:
Bookdepository: https://www.bookdepository.com/Sky-Without-Stars-Jessica-Brody/9781534410633?ref=grid-view&qid=1549403509338&sr=1-1
Google Books: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Jessica_Brody_Sky_Without_Stars?id=Yj1qDwAAQBAJ&hl=en
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ch/en/ebook/sky-without-stars-1Pre-Order Campaign:
Pre-order
a hardcover of SKY WITHOUT STARS by Jessica Brody and Joanne Rendell from a
participating indie bookstore* before March 26, 2019 and you’ll receive an
exclusive Sky Without Stars Gift Pack, including the
following:
·
A limited edition two-sided
12”x16” poster featuring the ONLY available colored version of the book’s world
map
·
A Sky Without Stars bookplate,
signed by both authors
·
A Sky Without Stars postcard
·
A Sky Without Stars bookmark
The
gift pack will be included with your book when it is shipped or picked up in store.
About the Author:
Jessica Brody
Jessica Brody is the author of more than 15 books for teens, tweens, and adults including Addie Bell’s Shortcut to Growing Up, A Week of Mondays, Boys of Summer, 52 Reasons to Hate My Father, and the three books in the sci-fi Unremembered trilogy. She’s also the author of the Descendants: School of Secrets series, based on the hit Disney Channel original movie, Descendants. Her books have been translated and published in over 23 countries and Unremembered and 52 Reasons to Hate My Father are currently in development as major motion pictures. She lives with her husband and four dogs and splits her time between California and Colorado.
Visit her online at JessicaBrody.com. Follow her on Twitter or Instagram @JessicaBrody
Joanne Rendell
Joanne Rendell is the author of three novels and holds a PhD in English literature. She teaches fiction writing to teens and kids and is a board member for the youth Shakespeare company, New Genesis Productions. With her husband and son, Joanne divides her time between New York City, and New Paltz, New York. Visit Joanne at JoanneRendell.com.
Giveaway:
Prize: Win a copy of SKY WITHOUT STARS by Jessica Brody and Joanne
Rendell (US Only)
Stars: 20th March 2019
Tour Schedule:
March 20th
The Unofficial Addiction Book Fan Club - Interview with Joanne Rendell
March 21st
NovelKnight - Guest Post
Andi's ABCs - Book Spotlight
L.M. Durand - Review
Book Beach Bunny - Review + Dream Cast
That Artsy Reader Girl - Interview with Jessica BrodyMarch 22nd
BookCrushin - Guest Post
Hauntedbybooks - Review + Favourite Quotes
Dazzled by Books - Review + Favourite Quotes
The Mind of a Book Dragon - Review + Playlist
March 23rd
Wishful Endings - Interview
Lisa Loves Literature - Review
Moonlight Rendezvous - Review + Favourite Quotes
everywhere and nowhere - Review
March 24th
Here's to Happy Endings - Review
Malanie Loves Fiction - Review
A Dream Within A Dream - Review
Confessions of a YA Reader - Promotional Post
March 25th
Library of a Book Witch - Review
Hopelessly Devoted Bibliophile - Review
Adventures Thru Wonderland - Review
Camillea Reads - Review + Favourite Quotes
March 26th
Book Slaying - Interview
Bookwyrming Thoughts - Review
It Starts at Midnight - Review
In Between Book Pages - Review + Favourite Quotes
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