Items related to Control (Shifter Series)

Control (Shifter Series) - Softcover

Book 2 of 3: Shifter

Curran, Kim

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9781623957513: Control (Shifter Series)

Synopsis

Scott Tyler is not like other teenagers. With a single thought he can alter reality around him. And he can stop anyone else from doing the same. That’s why he’s so important to ARES, the secret government agency that regulates other kids like him: Shifters. They’ve sent him on a mission. To track down the enigmatic Frank Anderson. An ex-Shifter who runs a project for unusual kids – as if the ability to change your every decision wasn’t unusual enough. But Anderson and the kids have a dark secret. One that Scott is determined to discover. As his obsession with discovering the truth takes him further away from anyone he cares about, his grip on reality starts to weaken. Scott realises if he can’t control his choices, they’ll control him.

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About the Author

Kim was born in Dublin and moved to London when she was seven. She got her first typewriter when she was eight, had a poem she wrote about a snail published in a magazine when she was nine, and that was it – Kim was hooked on writing. Because shenever thought she’d actually be able to make a living as a writer, she decided she needed a trade to fall back on. So, naturally, she went to Sussex University to study philosophy. While Kim’s plan of being paid big bucks to think deep thoughts never quite worked out, she did land a job as a junior copywriter with an ad agency a week after graduating. She’s worked in advertising ever since, specialising in writing for videogames. She can be found at www.kimcurran.co.uk and on Twitter @KimeCurran.

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THE FIRST APPLICANT FOR the assistant job is very promising indeed. He puts his head between my thighs with minimal supervision and almost no prompting. The only problem is - I don't recall creating an oral presentation portion of the interview. Or, for that matter, a portion that requires the answer: you know you want it. To a question I don't remember asking. But I guess I must have asked for something, or none of it would have happened. Maybe it was all the staring I did, at the curling many-coloured tattoos all over his heavy-looking arms. Or the way I bristled beneath the weight of his deep blue gaze. I must have leant forward, and asked about his previous job experience in a way that suggested an underlying code. Job meant sex. Experience meant now. It was sharp of him, really, to understand. He got a cross in the interview attire column - such a thin, barely-there T-shirt! - but he got a big tick in the "takes initiative and the "understands subtle instructions columns. I don't think I got any ticks, in the "cool, calm, controlling boss columns, unfortunately. But can't I be forgiven? He looked like liquid sex and I can't remember the last time I had anything even remotely resembling a drink. Or resembling a hard, solid body over mine. Or resembling the scent of someone besides myself, all over me - the slick slide of a tongue against my skin. It's probable that some of these needs showed on my face. And though I'm sure that some people are of the mind that women who wear neat little pleated skirts and boxy corduroy jackets - the uniform of bookstore owners and librarians everywhere - are bookish and quiet and quite dull, there's probably an equal amount who view said women as repressed cauldrons of lust. I'm pretty sure he sensed my boiling cauldron. I think he felt I was a certain type - the type who won't admit they want it, not even to themselves. But when he pressed me up against the door to the back and then shoved me through, I didn't deny anything. My insides shimmied to think of this big handsome man, having me up against something. Just doing it, without columns or questions or things neatly arranged.

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