Book: All the Stars on Fire
Author: Beck Medina
Genre: YA Fantasy
Release Date: December 20th 2019
Pre-Order Avaliable At: Amazon | B&N

Book Overview

Natalia Morales has a secret…she’s kind of a superhero. Natalia dreams of joining the Action Team, the newly banded and young heroes that protect Angel City, and just may stop at anything to make it happen.

Alyse Morales knows her sister’s secret, and wants Natalia to give up on her dangerous dream. When Alysegets hurt one night while Natalia is crime fighting, Natalia promises to end her run as a hero. But when the Sorceress appears in Angel City, and Captain Force, the leader of the Action Team, enlists in Natalia’s help,she may have to break her promise in order to protect her family and friends.

Will Alyse ever forgive her? Is Natalia actually capable of saving the day? All the Stars on Fire is the story of following your dreams, what it truly takes to be a hero, and leaping into the unknown.

Book Excerpt

Damnit, I overslept. I wake up to the sun hitting my face and a text from my best friend Boston asking where I’m at. Boston’s going out of town for two weeks to celebrate his birthday with his dad and sister, and I was supposed to meet him in his treehouse to give him his present and say goodbye.

Be there in ten,” I write back.

“Knock, knock,” my brother Max says, opening my bedroom door gradually until half his body is in my bedroom. “You got a minute?”

Still half asleep, I close my eyes and let my head fall back on my pillow. “I’ve got ten.”

Max takes a seat on the corner of my bed. I can feel him watching me, and my suspicions are confirmed when I pop one eye open. He laughs.

“Man, you’re a wreck,” he tells me. “What’s keeping you up at night lately?”

I don’t know why, but I’m always so certain that he must know about my moonlighting as Empathy. He has a good intuition about these things. But if he did know, it would be met with so much opposition. Max is too logical. Becoming a hero is considered reckless to him. He didn’t shut up for months about how foolish the Action Team was for working without the city’s consent. He finally came around to liking them as soon as they teamed up with the Angel City Police Department.

So yeah, he’d be pissed that I’m doing this without anybody’s consent.

“What do you want to talk about?” I yawn.

“It’s about the Academy,” Max starts. He adjusts himself so he’s facing me. “Natalia, something really important is about to happen. And I need you to know what it is so that you’re prepared.”

Okay, now I’m awake. I know Max has kept in touch with some of the researchers on Project 451, I think out of hope that the government would give them more funding so they could continue the project. I’ve been dreading the day that Max informs me that we’re going back to basecamp. Please tell me today isn’t the day.

“I’ve been in touch with a few of the scientists, and it looks like–”

“There you two are.”

Max and I turn to Alyse, who’s standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. She hates it when we “twin up without her,” as she refers to it. She already feels like the outcast since she’s the only Morales sibling that didn’t get accepted into Project 451. She was too young to apply, though. If I could go back in time, I’d gladly switch places with her. While I’m grateful for my abilities, I hated Academy. It was too competitive and strict. Eventually, I got the sense that we weren’t being trained to protect our country, but rather, to control it.

Max sighs, probably upset that our conversation has been interrupted. Despite his disappointment, he gives Alyse a cordial smile. “What’s up, Alyse?”

“Aunt Rosa’s wrangling us for breakfast,” she says, stepping further into my bedroom and plopping herself down on my bed beside Max. “She’s polling everyone on where we want to go. Prima already said, ‘wherever you wanna go is fine, Mom.’”

I laugh as I get out of bed. Alyse is really good at impersonations, I feel like I should be paying her to hear them. She used to do a flawless Mom and Dad, but we don’t do those impressions anymore.

She eyes the magazine on my nightstand and says, “Oh, the new issue of Teen Pulse came in.”

I got a yearly subscription of Teen Pulse for free when I ordered some clothes online a couple of months ago. I should have addressed it to Alyse, though. I’m not even the one who reads those silly things. But she devours gossip magazines the way bookworms read novels.

Max, always the considerate sibling, shifts toward Alyse to loop her into the conversation. “Ten bucks Aunt Rosa will want to take us to that Thai place she loves so much. For the third time this week,” he says, his eyes bulging at the thought of another night of white rice.

“The problem with Simply Thai is that it is simplyThai,” Alyse says, flipping through the advertisements in the beginning of the magazine. Every couple of pages, she’ll pause to open the perfume flap and sniff it. “Plus, it isn’t a breakfast spot at all. I mean, why can’t they have burgers and fries and boba and doughnuts like Top Burger? Now that is a restaurant.”

“Doesn’t that place have a B health rating?” I say.

Max snorts. “That is so bougie of you, Alyse.”

“Conventional is boring and you know it, Max.” Alyse gives Max a big whack on the hip with her foot. “Besides, a is still passing.”

“Tell that to Aunt Rosa,” Max scoffs.

Alyse rolls her eyes, but she remains mum. Any talk about Aunt Rosa and grades shuts her up real fast. “So what were you guys talking about?” She looks up at us with curious, puppy dog eyes.

“I was just briefing Natalia about the future of Project Four-Fifty-One.” He nudges me and says, “We’ll pick up later, okay?”

Alyse groans. “I never get to be a part of the peace officer talk.”

“Trust me, it’s not interesting,” I say, Heading to my dresser and pulling out some clothes. I’m sure I’ll still have time to change before we leave for breakfast. It always takes us over an hour to leave anyway.

Alyse brings the magazine up to her face, then lets out a big sigh filled with fantasy and seduction. “I’ve decided Iron Whip is my new superhero crush.”

She holds up the page she’s on to a spread of Iron Whip in a suit that looks new, or one the magazine had him wear specifically for the spread. It’s black with touches of silver, and he’s got black war paint over his eyes. His blonde hair is long and stringy, which I personally find unattractive. I’m into clean-cut guys. Alyse has always liked the bad boy type. They’re a lot like her.

“Jesus,” Max gags. It’s unsurprising that he’s anything but impressed. Max prefers the next-door look himself. Except he is the boy next door. Everyone thinks so.

I step into my walk-in closet and close the doors enough so I can change and still be a part of the conversation.

“Listen to this article,” Alyse says, flipping a page away from the spread. She clears her throat. “Earlier this year, a team of heroes with superhuman abilities emerged in Angel City. First, Captain Force and Iron Whip, but they were eventually joined by two others, Inspiro and Electrona.” Alyse pauses, staring at what must be a picture of the entire team. “Electrona’s boobs are so freaking fake.”

Alyse is ridiculously passionate about the Action Team. They’re all anyone our age has talked about this year. The band of heroes that keep our once crime-ridden city safe, also happen to be young heartthrobs. We may not be able to see their faces under the masks they wear, but boy, do they reek of sex appeal.

When I step out of the closet, Alyse says, “Look at the beads of sweat cascading down her jugs,” and holds up the single page where Captain Force, my personal favorite, has his arms wrapped around Electrona in an embrace. He’s tall and not overly muscular. Just the right amount of shredded, as Alyse likes to call it. His jawline is gentle, but defined. He’s beautiful. In every sense of the word.

“Stop talking like that, Alyse,” Max says, but his gaze is one hundred percent on Electrona’s sweat-laden rack. “You sound like an erotic novel.”

“If Alyse wrote a crappy romance novel, I’d buy it.”

Thank you, Natalia.”

As I stare at the picture of Electrona and Captain Force, jealousy surges through me like electricity. Not only am I envious of Electrona’s tanned skin, which Alyse comments is “also probably fake,” and her giant breasts that look like they’re made of muscle, not fat–good lord!–but Electrona is genuinely gorgeous. She’s like Mom and Aunt Rosa. Flawless and timeless. A gene I didn’t inherit.

Alyse must notice I’m eyeing Electrona’s rack, too, because she tells me with assurance, “Ours are better, Natalia, seriously. Men like small and perky. And I’ve seen your boobs. They’re round and full despite their size. Really nice to look at. Right, Max?”

Max cowers, his cheeks burning bright red. As a boy living in a house with four women, Max is used to us complaining about our periods in great detail, but never in relation to how the opposite sex perceives us. This is new territory, even for Max.

“Nocomment,” he says, snagging the magazine from Alyse and flipping through the pages.

“I’m not asking you about Natalia’s boobs. I meant small and perky boobs in general.”

“Again, nocomment.”

“What kind of boobs does Mavis Gladstone have?”

Max ignores Alyse by pretending to be engrossed in an article about third world poverty. That would be something Max took interest in.

“Whenhave you seen my boobs anyway?” I ask.

“When you wear bikinis,” Alyse says defensively. “Too bad Empathy isn’t on the Action Team,” Alyse says. “This lighting would really accent her curves, which are way better than Electrona’s. Her waist is so tiny, but she’s got a butt.”

A soft smile spreads across my face. Alyse has always tried to comfort me about my body, but I never took her seriously. She’s my sister, so it’s expected that she’d try to make me feel better about the things I hate about myself. Hearing her give a compliment without any incentive gives me a little bit more confidence about my appearance.

“You know, I’m not attracted to her,” Max says, setting the magazine down on his lap. “There’s literally nothing sexy about her. And I like butts. I don’t get it.”

“Thank God,” I say, standing in front of my mirror to pull my hair back in a high bun. I blow out a breath of air. I’ve never felt more solace from a negative remark about my body in my life.

Max and Alyse turn to me.

“Because, um…” C’mon, Natalia. Think a little faster here… “I’m just so sick of hearing about how amazing Empathy is. I mean, if she was all that, wouldn’t she be on the Action Team already?” I laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound too forced.

Alyse shrugs. “That’s true, I guess.”

Geez, Alyse. Defend me a little bit. I decide to let it go, though. After reading all the comments from the videos posted about Empathy, I’ve learned that everyone has an opinion and often times it never has anything to do with you.

Alyse pulls out her phone and holds it up above her with extended arms.

“That’s going to smack you right in the face,” Max warns her.

“She does it all the time,” I say.

“And how many times has it come crashing down on your face?”

“Only twice,” Alyse says.

Max shakes his head and laughs.

Alyse sits up and punches him in the shoulder. I’m taken aback by how hard she can hit, and Max and I are the ones with superhuman strength. “Out of the hundreds of times I’ve done it, two’s good odds,” she says, her hand still in a fist.

Max rubs his shoulder, laughing his head off.

These are the moments when I feel the most guilt for keeping my being Empathy a secret. When it’s just the three of us, bickering and laughing together like three best friends. I’ve been so careful about keeping my identity hidden. Nobody in my family suspects a thing. But that doesn’t make it any easier. I wish I had someone to talk to about all of this.

“There you three are,” Prima says, stepping into the doorway with her hands on her hips, dressed like we’re going to an upscale restaurant like Simply Thai, which is definitely not happening. “We’re leaving for breakfast in ten minutes.”

The three of us snicker, because we don’t believe it for a second that we’re leaving that early.

“Oh, what are we having?” Alyse turns to Max and me, knowing the three of us can outvote Aunt Rosa and Prima any day. Personally, I hate when we gang up on the two of them. “Freddy’s Shake Shack for pancakes and milkshakes?”

“That sounds great, actually,” I say, my nose now the one that’s buried in the magazine.

“Ugh, but you’re all deciding together,” Prima whimpers. “That isn’t fair.”

“There you four are,” Aunt says, meeting Prima in the doorway. She gives us a big smile. “Where we headed off to?”

“Freddy’s.” Prima slumps her shoulders. “I need to change into something more casual.”

Max flashes Aunt Rosa a big grin. “Classy bunch you’re raising, huh, Aunt Rosa?”

Aunt Rosa smirks, sliding one of her rose gold earrings through her ear lobe. “So get dressed and we’ll all meet in the car in five minutes.” Aunt Rosa gives us one bob of her head before she moves to her room.

Again, it ain’t gonna happen. We’ll leave in fifteen minutes, tops.

“I have to go say goodbye to Boston,” I say, starting for the door.

“Ooooooh,” Max howls.

Are they seriously going to start this right now?

“Oh, Boston,” Alyse mimics me, but sounds ten times more annoying than I do. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Max wraps his arms around a pretend person and make out with them. Alyse follows suit.

I cross my arms, watching my teenage siblings make out with air.

They both open their eyes, amused smiles spread across their faces.

“Get out of my room,” I say, and walk away.

I wasn’t planning on meeting him in a hoodie, joggers and sneakers, but when Boston’s sister plans a trip, they run on a fixed schedule. If I fix myself up, our time will be cut way short.

I go into my backyard and toward the fence that separates Boston’s house from mine. I lift up a broken piece of wood on the fence and crawl through it effortlessly into Boston’s backyard.

“You made it,” Boston exclaims as soon as I step off the ladder and climb into the treehouse.

Boston is sitting cross-legged, reading a worn out copy of A New Brain for Lavender Cross by Luke Danielson, a favorite of ours that came out this year. It will be the third time he’s devoured the book. One time more than me.

There’s a plastic coffee cup on the floor beside him and a perfect view of my driveway from here.

“What are you drinking?” I ask.

“An iced mango tea.” He picks it up and holds it out in front of me. The water from the melted ice has already soaked his hand wet. “Do you want to share it with me?”

I accept the cup from his hands and take a sip. When I hand it back to him, I wipe my hand against my joggers.

“Do you think your aunt will let me keep this?” Boston holds up a piece of paper labeled Serum 451 Active Ingredients List.

I forgot that Boston even that had. Back when Max and I were in Project 451, my parents were mailed a list of the ingredients that were in the serum before we were injected just in case anyone had an allergic reaction to it. A lot of people did. I can’t remember the exact numbers, but at least half of the volunteers got so sick within days after the injection and had to withdraw from training. Even Max caught a bug, but he quickly recovered from it. I don’t know anyone else in Academy that was susceptible to the serum like me, but Boston and I have had discussions about it. He thinks I may have already built up a tolerance to the ingredients.

Boston found the list while we were rummaging through the old filing cabinet that Aunt Rosa keeps all of our 451 documents in. We weren’t looking for anything in particular. Boston is obsessed with Project 451 and I’m always willing to feed into it. I let Boston borrow the list over the summer as long as he gave it back before I left. He knows everything about Project 451 even though I‘m technically not allowed to talk about it with anyone. I signed an agreement, but Boston is my best friend, and it’s not like he has anyone else to share our secrets.

The aspect we talk about most is the 451 Serum. The 451 Serum alters our DNA so that we can alter people’s emotions. He couldn’t believe it, and begged me to alter his emotions despite my being prohibited from doing it outside of training. I made him feel excitement, nothing harmful. Then I forced him to promise me that he’d never ask me to do it again. I don’t like being in control like that. Max is the one who wanted to become a Peace Officer, but I knew during our very first field lesson that I wouldn’t be taking my final exam. I just didn’t know how I would be getting myself out of it. Thankfully the project got shut down before I had to come up with a way.

“You’re not going to try to make your own serum, are you?” I joke.

Boston huffs. “Yeah right, that would be so expensive.” Boston looks over the ingredient list for–most likely–the hundredth time. I know he has it memorized by now. “Most of the equipment used isn’t easily accessible, you know. Except in labs. I just thought it would be a cool thing to hold onto. Like I have a little piece of actual history with me.”

I smile. Boston’s intentions are always sweet. It’s his best quality. “You can keep it,” I say. “But maybe we should photocopy it in case Aunt Rosa needs it for whatever reason.”

Boston nods, his excitement radiating off his face as he holds the list close to his chest.

“Hey, I have something for you.” I just remembered that I hid Boston’s birthday present in his old toy chest.

I go to the toy chest and take out his present, wrapped in blue flannel wrapping paper from our party pantry. Boston accepts the present with bright eyes and places it on the floor in front of him so he can open it. He unwraps it with care, and I can tell he really loves to milk the process. Like savoring a delicious meal.

When he sees what it is, he practically screams. “Whoa! You did not get this for me!” He tears what’s left of the wrapping paper like a rabid animal and holds up the microscope. He admires the display picture on the box, which will be more difficult to take apart. He’ll have to open it up at home.

I didn’t think it would touch me this much to see how happy he is with his gift. I saved up all summer for it. He already had a microscope for kids, but I thought he needed a real one now that he was turning seventeen.

“Thank you,” he tells me, a little awkwardly. Boston’s shy about showing gratitude. I think it embarrasses him. He peers at the ground, then back up at me.

Then, impulsively, I hug him, burying my head into his chest. “Send me a letter as soon as you get settled at Crystal Lake.”


“And you can visit my grandma anytime. She’s only a five minute walk from your guys’ cabin. I googled it. She said she’ll make tamales for you if you give her a heads up.”

Boston bobs his head, and I feel him start to pull away from me. “I can’t breathe, Natalia. You’re really strong.” He pulls his knees to his chest. “Good to know that serum is still working.”

“Natalia!” I hear Aunt Rosa calls from the car. “It’s time to go!”

I turn back to Boston. “I guess Saturday family breakfast is starting earlier than expected.”

“It’s cool.”

“And if your dad forgets to cook dinner and you’re ever hungry, just go to my grandma’s house. She keeps the most amazing food stocked in the freezer.”

“Okay,” he says again, annoyed this time. Boston is all okays. I hardly know what he means by them anymore. “Natalia, don’t worry about me. I can survive two weeks without you.”

“Right,” I nod, realizing that I must be smothering him.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean, don’t feel sorry for me, okay?”

I nod. I know I’m being especially maternal, but Boston’s mom left his dad just a few months ago, and his sister Shannon moved to New York to start her first year at Syracuse last week. Boston doesn’t have anyone to look out for him anymore. The problem is Boston’s dad is a total workaholic. He’s so focused on work that he remembers the things he’s forgotten to do well after he should have done them. “Damnit! I forgot the milk,” he would say out of nowhere in the middle of watching TV. Or, “The sink! Your mom told me to call a plumber about the sink!”

Plus there’s the kiss. On the day that Boston’s mom left, he kissed me in the treehouse we’re sitting in now. We never talked about it and it didn’t happen again, but I feel obligated to look out for the boy who’s as much my first kiss as he is my best friend. Mom would tell me not to think so fondly of any boy, especially a teenager full of hormones that he can’t control, but I could control them for the both of us. And Boston’s been my best friend since we were six. I trust him with my heart more than anyone.

I’ll admit that I’ve developed feelings for him after the kiss, but he never acted on it again, so I accepted that he probably did it out of fear or a need for comfort. But we remain each other’s protectors nonetheless. I think I have every right to make sure Boston’s okay on his trip.

Max told me that Boston’s at that age where he is ready to be a man and take care of himself. I guess Max must know from experience. But I know Boston better than anybody, and I can tell he appreciates that I do things for him. I can tell by the way he smiles to himself when he thinks I’m not looking.

Prima (I’m assuming) honks our car’s horn.

“I have to go,” I say.

Boston nods, and we make our way down the ladder.

A small part of me wishes I could have worked up the courage to give him one more kiss goodbye, but I refuse to believe that I have to act out of desperation for a romance to develop between us. If Boston wants to be with me, he’ll be with me when he’s ready.

I hop into the backseat of Aunt Rosa’s Camry, Alyse nestled in the middle seat between Prima and me. It honestly looks silly for Alyse to be in the middle, but Prima hates being in the middle with her booster seat. It reminds me of the days we used to keep Alyse wedged in safely between Max and me when we were kids, but she’s already taller and blossoming quicker than I ever did at her age.

Alyse leans over me and waves at Boston from out the window. “Bye, Boston, goodbye!” she calls out to him.

I roll my eyes and push her back into her seat so she’s out of my bubble. “Buckle up, Alyse.”

I help Alyse pull her seat belt strap down and push it into the buckle. The middle seat belt is pretty much broken and only Max and I are strong enough to get the belt to latch into and out of the buckle.

“Are you upset about the anniversary yet?” she asks me. I peer over at Max, who’s sitting in the passenger’s seat, arms crossed as he gazes out the window.

That’s right. Today marks two years since Mom and Dad died.

“I wasn’t even thinking about it this year,” I say.

“Neither was I,” Alyse nods. “Max reminded me just now. He forgot, too.”

“I feel like such an awful daughter for forgetting,” I say, putting my seat belt on. I’ve been so occupied going out every night as Empathy and trying not to get caught to remember. My hair gets stuck under the strap so I pull it out and brush through it with my fingertips, thankful for the distraction.

“You’re not,” Alyse whispers. “You’re human.” She rubs my hands as Aunt Rosa starts the engine.

“Is Boston your boyfriend now that you’re at that age where you can’t keep it in your pants?” Prima says.

I drop my jaw. Prima is literally quoting one of Aunt Rosa’s lectures. She gives me one every time Boston and I hang out alone now because Alyse blabbed to everyone in the family as soon as I told her Boston kissed me. Now Aunt Rosa suspects that neither of us can act amicably around each other. It’s all unnecessary and honestly offensive.

“No,” I say strongly. Now I’m the one crossing my arms and gazing out the window.

“Then why do you keep staring at him?”

“Shut up, Prima!”

“That’s enough you two,” Aunt Rosa says to us. She turns the AC knob so the air blows harder, cold against our faces.

It was a strange summer this year. Some days it’s sweater weather, other days it’s so hot that we have to turn the AC on full blast. The Morales siblings really had to rally together to convince Aunt Rosa that the AC is a necessity on days like today.

“Everyone wave goodbye to Natalia’s boyfriend,” Prima says jokingly, and I cringe. Hard.

Alyse and Aunt Rosa laugh and wave at Boston.

“If he waves back, they’re extra in love,” Alyse chimes in, waving harder at him to get his attention.

Boston pulls his hand out from his pant pocket and waves. Alyse and Aunt Rosa snicker. Thankfully Max is staying out of this. It makes me feel less cornered.

“You’re all the worst,” I say. But as Aunt Rosa puts the car in drive, I peak at Boston and give him one final wave goodbye.

“Wouldn’t it suck if he liked Alyse instead of you?” Prima says, and suddenly I’m recounting every interaction Boston’s ever had with Alyse.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t steal your boyfriend from you,” Alyse says as she flips through her issue of Teen Pulse.

“I’d never be worried about you stealing one of my boyfriends,” I tell her, even though she’s surpassed me in looks ages ago, especially now that she’s got that cornfield yellow blonde bob that hovers just above her shoulders. It’s dyed, of course, but she’s got lighter skin than Max and I do, so it works on her. The bangs are a good touch, too. I feel bad for telling her she couldn’t pull them off, but she sure proved me wrong. As always.

“Natalia, did you read that Captain Force is definitely hooking up with Electrona?” Alyse asks.

“Kind of,” I tell her, still intent on the road. Like it wasn’t obvious from that stupid photo spread.

“She’s not even that great of a superhero, but she’s got a nice rack.”

“Alyse,” Aunt Rosa says, glaring at Alyse in the rearview mirror.

“Just twenty minutes ago you said they weren’t that great.”

Alyse shrugs. “Meh, I’ve had a change of heart.”

“You should have been reading less garbage this summer and working on those math prep books I gave you,” Aunt Rosa says.

“Aunt Rosa, it’s summer.”

“That Teen Pulse magazine isn’t going to teach you how to pass Algebra Two,” Aunt Rosa says, her hands gripping the wheel at three and nine. Poor Alyse. Aunt Rosa hasn’t let her live down how bad she’s been doing in math. Like I said, she’s too dreamy eyed for school.

“Probably not,” Alyse admits. I do respect that she’s agreeable. “But I know how to properly format a gossip column. And I know that dating the hottest superhero in the Universe means that every girl is going to idolize you, which is a great deal of pressure for such a mediocre person.”

“They don’t teach that in school,” I say, like I’m trying to sell Alyse’s consumption of Teen Pulse to Aunt Rosa.

“You’re filling your brain with nonsense, Alyse,” Aunt Rosa says. “Where’s that Morales ambition in you? Your brother and sister certainly have it.”

Alyse frowns. I know it kills her that Aunt Rosa is always stacking her up against Max and me. She just hasn’t discovered her strengths yet, but she will. I know it.

The great thing about Alyse is her resilience. Anything Aunt Rosa says can roll right off of her. She turns to me and covers the magazine over both of our faces so we can have our own private conversation. “I think you’d be a better match for him, Natalia,” Alyse whispers so only I can hear. “You’re strong and can control people’s emotions, which is way cooler.”

I actually think Electrona’s ability to create electricity with the power of the sun is more impressive, but I’ll take the compliment.

“But if you married Boston, would you change your name to Natalia Burrows or Natalia Morales-Burrows?”

“Like I know,” I say. I’m lying, though. I’d already decided on Natalia Burrows back when I was reeling over our kiss. It’s cleaner. Fewer s’s. I let out a huff. I hate how well Alyse knows me.

Book Review

All The Stars On Fire is a cross between, Ender’s Game and Divergent with some Kick Ass (the movie) thrown in!

It’s other-wordly and yet accessible. All The Stars On Fire hits that nail on the head for a Young Adult Fantasy read. You’ll find yourself immediately loving our main heroine, Natalia Morales, who is also the superhero, Empathy.

Natalia just can’t run from who she was meant to be.

I found myself finishing this book quickly over the weekend and I bet you will too.

About the Author

Beck Medina is a California born and raised author and podcast host. Beck’s work includes 2016’s A Fantastic Mess of Everything, 2017’s Or Best Offer, and her highly anticipated fantasy novel All the Stars on Fire (December 2019).

When Beck isn’t writing, she’s the host of the My Best Life Podcast, a health, wellness, and business podcast for creative entrepreneurs. A few of Beck’s favorite things include pop music, iced coffee, teen dramas, and her two cats, Olivia and Dupree.

Author Links: Website | Goodreads | Twitter

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