: Ashes, Ashes (): Jo Treggiari: Books. Ashes, Ashes and millions of other books are available for instant access. Kindle | Audible. “In Ashes, Ashes by Jo Treggiari, Lucy is prepared to acknowledge that ninety- nine percent of the population is gone and that her choices are few. What she isn’ t. In Jo Treggiari’s grim adventure Ashes, Ashes, Mother Earth is pissed, and has decided to give us a time out once and for all. First comes the horrifically mutated .
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As the weather continues to rage out of control, and Sweepers clean the streets of plague victims, Lucy survives alone in the wilds of Central Park. She joins his band of survivors, yet, a new danger awaits her: There is something here for treggiri about everyone- romance, survival drama, treggairi, mystery.
Survival, however, has its downside. Now that the world she knew is gone and with it the people she loved, Lucy is on her own. She survives primordially in a cave, hunting and gathering what she can.
: Ashes, Ashes (): Jo Treggiari: Books
She does not know, nor does she care, how many other people are out there as she ticks off the days in solitude. He appears out of nowhere, he is semi-clean, he has eaten real food, and he offers her a chance to join him in his camp. Lucy refuses, but circumstances quickly change and she finds herself seeking him out and joining his small community of survivors.
They are not completely safe, however, as the Sweepers from the city find them, even in their hideout. No one the Sweepers takes ever returns and no one is sure who or what they are searching for, but Lucy has a feeling that it is her. In this thrilling sci-fi reality created by Jo Treggiari, many current nightmares are brought to fruition as the current world trends toward end-of- the world predictions. The return of the plague via bird infection, government secrecy over the devastating realities, and the ever impending melting of the ice caps all play out in this page turner.
Readers will love rooting for Lucy as she struggles to save herself, protect her new friends, and find romance: The high waters cannot cleanse this terror-filled place. Compelling characters stand against the dismal horizon with bravery, even though some wear disguises of evil and are not what they profess to be. The pace is superb, and the vivid descriptions of the new attempts at society are well crafted, but it is the choices the amoral but brilliant scientists make that push Lucy to define herself as martyr or survivor.
The fact that the key scientist still feels like the kindest person Lucy has recently encountered complicates things all the more, as it lays bare how intensely vulnerable and alone she is in this ravaged world. Meshed well into the main narrative are well-incorporated subplots about the acceptance of difference of folks who were ravaged by the plagueromance, and loyalty.
A map orients readers to the new watery, tree-filled New York. One surprising aspect of the novel is the twist about half way through that takes this post-apocalyptic novel and transforms it into a dystopia. Rich backstory aligns readers with Lucy while the vivid post-apocalyptic New York setting draws them along.
Lucy survives alone in the now-wild Central Park, hunting and foraging for food until she meets Aidan, who urges her to join a band of survivors. A top survival story evolves with many twists and turns. And yet it is a story of hope and survival and of friendship and love. Treggiari has created a starkly compelling rendering of this dystopian world and among the few people who have managed to cling to life she has given us a cast of intriguing characters.
People we earnestly hope will continue to flourish in the face of these terrible losses. Urgent and intense, it is an arresting tale. It covers the period of time when the first plague cases begin to appear. You can read the first 3 chapters here or read it on wattpad:. Aidan Finn leaned on the crumbling mortar and brick of the wall and peered down to the street below. The jump to the next rooftop would be tough. He struggled to catch his breath. No sign of pursuit. And Sammy was probably still a block behind him.
His younger brother was faster on the streets, knowing where the cut-throughs were, the dead ends, the fissures like snaking paths between mounds of rubble and collapsed masonry. It was as if he held an adaptable map of the city in his head, but up here on the roofs, Aidan was still the king. The stolen can of peach slices dragged at his sweatshirt pocket. Plus it had been a long time since any of them had tasted fruit or sugar. His nostrils prickled with the sour odor of black mold.
He smelled the promise of more rain- they were at the start of the Long Wet, but right now it was humid. The sun was just dropping behind the jagged skyline.
Bright orange and bloated like a huge beach ball. Blazingly hot still, as it had been for pretty much the last six months.
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Even up here where he could usually feel a breath of wind blowing away the stink of ripe garbage, the thick air was like a wet blanket against his skin, the bricks slimy under his palms. He wiped his sweaty face against his sleeve and planned his next move.
Above the trash-strewn streets, he felt free. More in control of himself and his treggiati than usual but he knew that a foot placed treggiark could spell disaster. It was almost as if he could see a trail marked out, meandering, choppy but showing him the best way, the right way to go. He looked down to see his brother waving to him. He wore a red sweatshirt too. A splash of bright color standing out against the few passersby in their drab plastic rain-gear.
In the last couple of years Sammy had started copying everything Aidan did. He even grew his dirty blonde hair out so that the thick bangs hung over his eyes, and adopted the same way Aidan had of leaning against walls while he was talking.
At the moment he was mostly joo and long arms. A chain of garlic was slung around his neck. The rules of the game were broad; the list of items, like in a treasure hunt, was diverse.
Everything was assigned a point value. They spent hours coming up with stuff. Garlic—fifty points— was ashds of the weirder things and it was just like Sammy to go for it.
Fresh fruit was almost impossible to find these days even the kind that flourished in poor soil and drought interspersed by pounding rains. He waved back and then set his eyes ahead on the ten foot gap he was going to have to clear.
He slowed his breathing, clenched and unclenched his fists, shifted from one worn sneaker to the other, feeling the tar paper and grit of the roof through the thin sole. A trickle of sweat ran down his back. Sammy wolf-whistled and it was then that Aidan noticed that his brother held his right arm stiffly behind his back. He brought it forward, into sight. Somewhere Sammy had found a collapsible scooter.
Lightweight aluminum, flexible, thick wheels for uneven terrain, spongy shock absorbers, hydraulics. More like a skateboard. Aidan had seen kids over by the old sewage treatment plant really get air when they rode them through the huge concrete pipes.
After the fourth major earthquake to rock Manhattan had destroyed the streets to the point that cars were useless, the mayor had brought in a boat- load of free-use bikes, adult trikes, scooters and skateboards.
They were painted a lurid yellow, distributed in every neighborhood, left on every corner. The idea was you picked one up when you had to travel somewhere and then left it for the next person, but most of them had been re-appropriated, repainted and sold on the Black Market.
It was hard to hold onto anything these days unless you brought it into the house and unless your house had wshes locks and secure windows.
Supply was low and demand was at an all-time high. On zshes scooter Sammy might just win the race. He remembered too well what the stakes were this time.
He weighed his options: He felt that brief moment of fear followed immediately by exhilaration. The ground seemed to be jl up to meet him fast. He flung his ashse out, his legs pedaling, his fingers clawing the air as he fell towards the next roof like a stone. In his brain he was seeing geometric diagrams outlined against the sky, dotted lines matching up point A to point B on a trajectory C.
Pocketful of Posies (Ashes, Ashes, #2) by Jo Treggiari
Time seemed to freeze, and then accelerate again as he landed on the edge of the next roof, his momentum pushing him forward, his feet slipping and sliding on loose rubble and then he was down on his knees, hands thrown out.
And he felt the bite of rock and broken glass against his palms and the hot friction as his knees took the brunt of the fall before he rolled into a somersault, taking most of the impact on his shoulder. He struggled to his feet and spared a look at his jeans. His skin was shredded and blackened with dirt.
He dug a sharp rock treggiarl of his leg, and he was up and running for the next roof. He felt a burst of fierce energy. There was no way he was ashex to lose, even if he had to half-kill himself with the effort.
He was good-natured, always up for a prank. It was as if he exuded odor. On top of that he was a sleep-hugger. From what Aidan had figured out, a limpet was a shellfish which clung to the rocks and was almost impossible to shift. Malcolm was the same way. The next few buildings were crowded together.
Loosened in their foundations by the shifting ground, they leaned against one another. He could walk across the spaces, barely widening his stride, but he took them at a run.
It was too asges in the season for the big roads to be flooded out. He flew down a fire escape ladder to a lower level, picking his feet up, locking his elbows and sliding most of the way supported on his hands.