Liz Reinhardt
Liz Reinhardt is a perpetually homesick NJ native who migrated to the deep South a decade ago with her funny kid, motor-head husband, and growing pack of mutts. She's a fanatical book lover with no reading prejudices and a wide range of genre loves, but her heart will always skip a beat for YA. In her spare time she likes to listen to corny jokes her kid reads to her from ice-pop sticks, watch her husband get dirty working on cars, travel whenever she can scrape together a few bucks, and gab on the phone incessantly with her bestie, writer Steph Campbell. She likes Raisinets even if they aren't real candy, the Oxford comma even though it's nerdy, and airports even when her plane is delayed. When she isn't writing, Liz Reinhardt teaches a fantastic group of diverse 8th graders in Savannah, GA. Rebels Like Us, her latest YA novel, is full of hot kisses, angst, homesickness, and laughs that are almost as good as the ones that come from the stick of a melty ice-pop.
“I'm winning a date with you. Granted, it's the frigging lamest date on earth, but I'm winning it anyway.”
“I did not ask you out. But I would seriously think about not shooting you down if you asked me. Nicely." I had to keep my pride.He took both of my hands in his. "Brenna Blixen will you be my girlfriend, please." He held up one of my hands and kissed my knuckles smoothly. "Pretty please. With sugar on top.”
“Are you going to kiss me?" I blabbered stupidly."I'm working up the nerve," he said softly.”
“Can I..." He stopped and his jaw flexed. "Can I kiss you?"I didn't answer, and he didn't wait for me to. His hands caught me gently behind the neck and he pressed his mouth to mine, softly but firmly. Then he moved one arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him.”
“You don't have to lie to me to be nice, Jake. You can just say, 'Wow, your nails look crappy.'" I did my best boy voice."Well, I will tell you that's a crappy imitation of my voice." He smiled so wide I could see his eyetooth from across the table. "But you've got to know you're totally hot, chipped nails and all." He burned beet red all the way to the roots of his hair. "Man, you get me to say some embarrassing stuff, Brenna." He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck."Hey, don't blame me when you feel moved to make strange declarations.”
“I'm in love. Twice. It's not a love that divides fifty-fifty. It's not a love that's split between good and bad, safe and dangerous, real and imaginary. It's all mixed up, confused, good, bad and ugly love times two, and it's all mine.”
“We were gunpowder and one hell of a spark, and I wasn't about to test our combustibility. ~ Junk Miles”
“Not exactly what I wanted, but you know what they say about getting what you want.""That you should want what you have instead?" I guessed."No! That's ridiculous advice. Jesus, who told you that? Never mind, don't even answer that. Just forget you ever heard it. They, and by 'they' I am referring to those who know what the hell they're talking about, say that you can't always get what you want. But if you try sometimes..." He held out his hand for me to finish."You just might get what you need?"He shucked me under the chin and gave me his best cocky smile. "There's hope for you yet."He walked away from me with a determined swagger and didn't look back.”