It’s 1969, the war (excuse me, “military action”) is raging in Vietnam, Charles Manson is on trial for mass murder, and fourteen-year-old Bliss In-the-Morning-Dew is fresh off the commune. Her hippie parents have fled to Canada to escape the draft and left Bliss high and dry with her prissy southern grandmother in Atlanta. But this is not a tragedy. Bliss discovers that she actually likes real soap, clean sheets and remote-controlled television. She’s even looking forward to making friends at the chi-chi private school her grandmother has enrolled her in. That is, until she steps on campus and hears the otherworldly voice that keeps whispering in her head, speaking of blood, death, and sacrifice. Until she explores the abandoned third floor of the school’s oldest building, once a convent, and discovers the room of the young novice named Liliana who plunged to her death to escape the soul-cleansing whip of a sanctimonious Mother Superior. Until she finds out that one of her new chums actually plans on becoming a vessel for the vengeful Liliana and needs Bliss’s blood to seal the deal! OMG, Lauren Myracle, who knew you were hiding a bloody butcher knife behind that Mayberry smile? Myracle, lately she of the sweet, pastel-covered stories of girlhood has returned to her darker, a la Rhymes with Witches roots with this delicious package of scary goodness all wrapped up in a blood-soaked bow. Lately I have been pissing and moaning about the fact that there is not enough true YA horror to fill the desperate need of teens everywhere for some good old-fashioned thrills and chills. Well, I’m here to tell you that YA horror is BACK because Lauren Myracle has BROUGHT IT with this spine-tingling nightmare that is 1/3 Carrie, 1/3 classic Lois Duncan, and the rest gorgeously gory urban legend. The YA horror gauntlet has been THROWN my adolescent, Stephen-King-reading friends, and I can’t wait to see how many YA writer-peeps start penning their own terrifying tales in order to reach the bar raised by this bloody Myracle!