Need (Need #1) by Carrie Jones
Pain shoots through my head. Fireworks. Explosions. All inside my brain. The white world goes dark and I know what's about to happen.
Zara White suspects there's a freaky guy semi-stalking her. She's also obsessed with phobias. And it's true, she hasn't exactly been herself since her stepfather died. But exiling her to shivery Maine to live with her grandmother? That seems a bit extreme. The move is supposed to help her stay sane...but Zara's pretty sure her mom just can't deal with her right now.
She couldn't be more wrong. Turns out the semi-stalker is not a figment of Zara's overactive imagination. In fact, he's still following her, leaving behind an eerie trail of gold dust. There's something not right - not human - in this sleepy Maine town, and all signs point to Zara.
In this creepy, compelling breakout novel, Carrie Jones delivers romance, suspense, and a creature you never thought you'd have to fear. -Goodreads
Need was not a need to read. It was so-so, 3 stars, your run of the mill young adult paranormal romance. Were-animals, pixies, and swooning chicks- oh my! It wasn't horrible but I was glad I borrowed it from the library and didn't buy it.
Zara was your average girl, with a common sense problem and a thing for memorizing phobias. She ran into the woods to chase a lethal pixie (more than once), she was unbearably swoon-y at times, but she had her redeeming qualities. She was smart, and caring, and definitely not a complete embarrassment to females everywhere (Cough, Luce, cough). She was had a good head when she used it and she had her own quirks that made the book unique.
All the phobias, for example, don’t add to the story line or plot. But they do give the book its own fingerprint. And I was thankful for her reaction to the knowledge of paranormal beings actually existing and it reinforces the fact she had a good head. I really hate irrational freak out sessions.
“He wipes his hand on his shirt.
What? Did I drool on you?"
You're a wolf. You should be used to drool."
Nick's fingers stroke mine lightly, so lightly that I'm almost not sure the touch is real. My insides flicker like the art room lights. They do not, however, fizzle. I turn my head to look him in the eye.
He leans over and whispers, "It will be hard to be just your friend.”
links to the book and more info;
Carrie Jones Website