The Seven Rays
By Jessica Bendinger
The creator of Bring it On, Jessica Bendinger, brings her teen savvy writing to this paranormal romance, The Seven Rays.
Amazon Sales Rank: #29470 in Books Published on: 2009-11-24 Original language: English Number of items: 1 Binding: Hardcover 336 pages
Review "The Seven Rays is awesome, and teentastic...and freaky. Is there anything screenwriter Jessica Bendinger can't write?" -- Greg Behrendt, coauthor of the bestselling He's Just Not That Into You"The Seven Rays totally awakened the fantasy fangirl in me!" -- Kate Brian, author of the bestselling Private and Privilege series"The Seven Rays takes you on a journey of mystery, magic, adventure, and the intricacies of relationships and love. Read this book, enjoy the adventure, be inspired, but also find that part of your being where the paranormal becomes normal." -- bestselling author Deepak Chopra About the Author Jessica Bendinger is a movie writer, producer, and director who lives in Los Angeles who has written such screenplays as Bring it On and Stick It. This is her first teen novel. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. CHAPTER 1THERE ARE SOME THINGS YOU CAN'T UNSEE. I DON'T know when I started seeing things. I don't know exactly when the little flickers started popping up, demanding my attention, mucking up my vision. I really don't remember. Which is annoying, because you think you'd remember the first time your life was about to change irrevocably. But you don't. When your personal cosmos explodes, you don't remember precisely when the match first strikes the tinder. Or when the wick on the TNT gets lit. Me? I just remember pink dots. Stupid pink dots.The only dots I'd seen previously were dotted lines, where I signed my name: Elizabeth Ray Michaels. Beth to those who knew me. Elizabeth to those who didn't. I'm the only child of divorced parents, who neither speak to each other nor interact. This is a fact my overprotective, hardworking mother assured me was better than dodging my father's fists and his screaming. It is also a fact I've learned not to question. In my seventeen years I've mastered one thing: the art of staying out of trouble, and a knack for insanely good grades. That's two things. Two things that were about to change faster than a fourteen-yearold boy's voice. And a hundred times more awkwardly. But I'm getting ahead of myself.I don't remember if my eye-flashes first started when my mom blew a gasket over the fact that I didn't ever cut or style my long hair. Don't get me wrong: I brushed it and loved it. I had been growing it since I was seven. It was dirty blond, long and shiny, and the only thing I appreciated about my looks. Ever since reading that guys preferred long hair, I'd been growing mine. Superficial and shallow, I know, I know, but my hair was like my beauty raft: I clung on to it for dear life. Once Mom had tried to trick me into cutting it by giving me a certificate to a salon in Chicago. When I used it toward a mani-pedi? She ragged on me, and there was a red flashing dot. Like a flashing red smoke-alarm light that didn't stop for several seconds. On her head.The second visual flare was when my bestie Shirl wouldn't admit she'd lost my favorite bag. She'd borrowed it. And failed to return it. Period. Okay. So, second to my hair? I loved my stuff. I didn't have a lot of it, but what I did have, I adored. My old stuffed animals, my clothes, my books, my shoes, my bags. We couldn't afford much, so I treasured everything and took good care of it. I guess I took "pride of ownership" a little too seriously at times, because I began naming things. Betty was the name of my favorite bag. So, when Shirl lost Betty and wouldn't admit it? This blast of dots went off. "You treat your stuff like it's alive, Beth." She was railing on me like she always did when she'd messed up. "Who names their stuff? You'd think they were pets the way you dote on them; it's ridic. And who do you think you are? Are you really accusing me of lying about something I could totes incredibly easily replace, anyway?" My things were like my pets. Betty was my fave and she was gone. And I was pretty sure Shirl was lying about it.But that was all eclipsed by the fact that Shirl was covered in pink dots: tiny dots, pancake-sized dots, quarter-sized dots, nickel-sized dots, penny-sized and micro-sized dots. She was covered in all sizes and varieties of translucent, Pepto-Bismol pink dots. I was blinking so much at her she asked, "Are you developing eyelash Tourette's, or what?" Then the dot-o-vision got all fuzzy and stopped. Sadly, eyelash Tourette's was not to be the diagnosis. Or the live-agnosis.Weird crap began popping in, out, and around people in my field of vision every day for weeks. I was terrified to tell my mother (who had a tendency to become hysterique about anything and everything), so I kept my mouth shut. I was tripping. Tuh-ripping. Although I knew there had to be a logical explanation for what was happening, I probably wasn't going to discover it in my crappy high school's version of AP Chem. Which wasn't actually a class at my school, but (drumroll, please)...a college-level course at the fabulously craptastic local community college! In fabulously craptastic New Glen, Illinois! Having sailed through high school with a 4.1 GPA, I finished junior year as a senior. The faculty decided my time was better spent off campus in collegelevel classes than repeating classes I'd already straight A-ced. I'd be spending most of what would have been my last year in high school as an exotic export: a New Glen High School senior dominating the academic scene at NGCC (otherwise known as No Good Criminal College). By the way, there is no one less popular than a high-school kid in a college class crammed with college-aged underachievers. I was an interloper doing something my classmates had never dreamed of: graduating early.It was the only thing I'd ever done early. I'd developed late, shot up late, and shot out late. Shirl and I were the last girls in high school to have chests that weren't concave. We were never the cutest girls or the hottest girls or the most popular girls, the weirdest girls or the most annoying girls. You'd have to matter to someone, somewhere, to be any of those things. And we didn't matter. To anyone, anywhere. Not when we met at New Glen Elementary, not at New Glen Middle School, and not at New Glen High. We were pretty much invisible.In private, Shirl was a drama queen, constantly battling the nonexistent five pounds she had to lose, or complaining about her bad skin that was perfectly clear. She did it to combat her biggest fear, which she vocalized regularly: "We are becoming snore pie with yawn sauce, Beth! C'mon, let's do something spontaneous and unforgettable!" Which usually involved the exciting rush of mainlining coffee at the local mall.Shirl's hobby was the cool kids. She pined for invitations to their parties, shopped where they shopped, knew where they hung out and where they worked. She studied them like they were constellations in a telescope: She understood what they were and how they behaved and could forecast their movements better than an astronomer. The difference between me and Shirl was simple: She wanted to be a part of their solar system. I wanted to get the hell out of that universe. And into university.There was, however, one particular planet that Shirl revolved around: Ryan McAllister. Ryan Mac was the younger half of the lethally gorgeous, perpetually delinquent Mac Brothers. Stunning and troubled, athletic and not so bright, Ryan and his older brother, Richie McAllister, were legends around New Glen. They had dreamy hair, dreamy eyes, and the kind of sad family story that let them get away with anything. I didn't know the details, but Shirl swore their father had abandoned the family under some kind of mob death threat involving guns and gambling debt. Their mother was in and out of rehab, and the boys were given the kind of free pass that is handed out to heart-stopping hotties with tragic life stories.And how Ryan worked it! Ryan McAllister was the sworn nemesis of promise rings anywhere in a hundred-mile radius. Reputed to have deflowered bouquets of virgins, Ryan was legend. Arrested at fourteen, illegally driving an old motorcycle at fifteen, all-state in soccer and basketball by sixteen, Ryan Mac was drunk with power by seventeen. By his senior year Ryan had plucked more local buds than the horticulture industry. This naughty fact was how Ryan McAllister got his very naughty nickname: the Hymenator. His conquests were legendary, and were usually followed by the unfortunate and very public dangling of an unwrapped condom on the victim's locker. Needless to say, Shirl would've willingly offered her rose to him without hesitation."I'm feeling thorny" was her whispered giggle every time we'd cross Ryan's path."Hey, Charlene." Ryan always got Shirl's name wrong, and this didn't deter her."A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet?" I squeaked out, trying to protect her fragile ego."He knows I exist. I'm making progress." She was so gleeful about it. It was as if he'd just asked her out."Please don't lose your V to Ryan McAllister," I'd beg, rolling my eyes out of worry more than anything."He'd have to find it first," she'd laugh. "Unless I lost it already. Do you think my virginity is in the lost and found box in Principal Tony's office? I haven't seen it in a while...." She'd joke about her total lack of sexual experience. But despite Shirl's self-deprecating humor, I worried about the truth: She'd do anything for Ryan McAllister.I reluctantly indulged her fixation by hanging out with her at the Bordens Books at Glen Valley Mall. Ryan worked parttime at the sporting goods store next door, and I could at least study and drink coffee while Shirl obsessed and memorized Ryan's flight pattern.There wasn't one cool kid who Shirl didn't know something about. Grenada Cavallo -- the style icon of New Glen -- never wore the same thing twice, and her luxury Vuitton bags were way beyond what most kids could afford. Shirl would speculate relentlessly about their origin. "Do you think Grenada is a master shoplifter or master Web-shopper and deal-finder?""I no know," was my constant refrain. "They are your specialty, not mine." I needed to nail my physics test, and she was not letting me master Newtonian mechanics.Shirl was sucking down her fifth coffee. "She says it's a wealthy aunt who works at Bergdorf 's in New York.""I didn't realize the wealthy worked in retail.""I know, right? Lucky her." Shirl was buzzing. "Did you see Jake's new tattoo" -- she knew I hadn't -- "on his lower back?""He got a tramp stamp?" I asked, incredulous. "How tacky and how tragic!" I detested tattoos. "Why not just wear a sign that says, 'Please think I'm cool. I'm begging you!' How'd you see Jake's lower back, anyway?""He took off his shirt in PE.""Did the angels sing?" Shirl liked Jake. And by that, I mean Shirl liked all boys."Don't mock me. You're missing a lot, you know." Shirl said it in a resentful voice, like I'd abandoned her and made a horrible mistake by investing in my future. "And now that you'r...
Excellent young adult novel This tightly written mystery is not your typical coming of age story. Filled with fantacy and magic, it is a page turner...interesting enough for an adult to enjoy as a quick read, and easily written so that age 13 or 14 and up could enjoy. The central character is female, with a strong male counterpart. There is some sexuality though not exactly the sexual act itself (read to see what I mean). It is handled well, not too graphic. A family torn apart is reunited, and a group of girls who just don't fit in anywhere are reunited into a wonderful sisterhood. A leading edge novel based on current thought surrounding the belief in the dawning age of the devine feminine - excellent! Interesting concept, but who is the real target audience? After completing The Seven Rays, I am very confused as to who (what age) is the target audience. The characters are high school seniors and older. Therefore, I would assume it was geared towards teens. HOWEVER, the main character, Beth, and her best friend behave like pre-teens. BUT, the book contains sexual content that really surprised me. I read adult and young adult paranormal and urban fantasy books. I've only read one young adult paranormal book before that painted such a clear picture on sexual acts of this matter. I HIGHLY RECOMMEND PRE-SCREENING THIS BOOK IF YOU ARE BUYING IT FOR A MIDDLE SCHOOL AGED READER!!! The book summary was so interesting and caught my attention immediately. I could not wait until my book arrived from Amazon. I started reading immediately. I was surprised to see on the book that it was written by the same author as Bring It On and Stick It. If I had known that, I probably would not have ordered the book. Since I had it, I still wanted to read it, because it sounded so good. Honestly, I wasn't sure if I would make it through the book. Starting out, Beth and her friend acted more immature and goofy than my 12 year old niece and her friends. Let me tell you, they can be pretty goofy and annoying! I was shocked that readers were supposed to believe this was the behavior of a 17 year old, brilliant girl who finished high school early and was taking college courses. The teen slang was difficult to take. However, once I got through the first few chapters, the book became extremely interesting. It really did keep my attention, and I found myself reading longer than I normally do each evening. It was nice to follow along with Beth through her journey of discovery of her new powers. The interaction between Beth and Richie was sweet (most of the time -- when they weren't doing acts that are too mature for the middle-school age behavior shown early in the book). I thoroughly enjoyed the adventure UNTIL about the last 1/4 of the book. It didn't seem to be very cohesive. It was very forced and did not fit with the rest of the book. There are going to be very many young female readers who may stop reading the book with disgust because of the route the romantic portion takes. Beth's interaction (and acceptance) of acts done with the "Seven Rays" seems quick and forced. I was torn on what to score this book. I went with 3 stars, because I enjoyed the majority of the book (in the middle). I did not really enjoy the beginning or the end. It felt like there were 3 different story/writing styles. I also felt there was not a clear age range for the target group. I have warned my sister to read it before letting my niece read it (we all like the paranormal and urban fantasy genre). While the language and most of the actions of the characters are perfectly in check with a 12 year old, the sexual actions in the book are definitely years ahead of that age. I probably would have rated it lower than 3 stars because of the negatives that I mentioned, but the interesting and captivating middle section of the book bumped it up to 3 stars. By the way, I find it "interesting" that ALL of the 5 star reviews as of this date pretty much reviewed ONLY Seven Rays items. Seems suspicious, if you know what I mean. Teen slang, plot problems, adult topics... confused? So am I. I really hate to give any book a negative review. It is so difficult to write a novel and especially get published today, that I feel I have to be supportive of the resulting work regardless of my personal feelings. I think, however, that Bendinger got a free pass on this book because of her past accomplishments (Bring It On and Stick It). If I were to rate this book on my personal feeling, I would probably rate it two stars. The characters were unbelievably immature and ridiculously goofy for seventeen year-olds that were about to turn eighteen. The main character is supposedly a genius child who graduated high school a year early, but she makes jokes about the initials "A.B." ("One-Two", "PeePoo"). In addition, the never-ending use of teen slang (which honestly I don't even think teens use) and fabricated words in this book made me cringe. Because of that alone, it was a very tough read for me. The characters themselves are rather flat. The main character, Beth, is the typical mother-hating teenager. The best friend is the typical sidekick. The love interest is the typical brooding teenager that all the girls lust after but somehow inexplicably chooses our girl Beth. Yawn! Beth goes through a convoluted plot line that involves more mom-hating, a stint in a psych ward, and lots of running away with her new beau to solve the mystery at hand. It becomes more convoluted as the mystery starts to unravel, with some rather adult moments involving tattoos and strip clubs. I struggle to think who is the target audience for this book. If I had a daughter under eighteen, I would not be thrilled with her reading this book, and I'm certainly no square! To add to the confusion, the ending that is hinted at as the mystery unravels is suddenly either forgotten or completely revoked with no explanation. Most frustrating of all, the ending feels rather void of closure. I'm guessing that the author was attempting to leave the door open for a sequel, but at this point I'm not sure I would bother reading a sequel should there be one. While the book was entertaining, it just wasn't that good. This could probably be forgiven by teenage readers, but I doubt some of the subject matter would be appropriate for most of them.
