MAGGIE QUINN IS determined to make her mark as a journalist. The only problem? The Ranger Report does not take freshmen on staff.
Rules are rules. But when has that ever stopped Maggie?
After facing hellfire, infiltrating sorority rush should be easy. It's no Woodward and Bernstein, but going undercover as the Phantom Pledge will allow her to write her exposé. Then she can make a stealth exit before initiation. But when she finds a group of girls who are after way more than "sisterhood," all her instincts say there's something rotten on Greek Row. And when Hell Week rolls around, there may be no turning back.
If there is such a thing as a sorority from hell, you can bet that Maggie Quinn will be the one to stumble into it.
From the Hardcover edition.
Excerpts
Chapter One...
I shouldn't have been surprised. I'm Maggie Quinn: Psychic Girl Detective. Lisa is an amateur sorcerer. We aren't exactly normal college freshmen. Yet there we were, doing the normal college thing, setting off on a Rite of Passage: Spring Break at the Beach.
An odd choice, since I hate any water deeper than a bathtub, I already have a boyfriend, and if you couldn't tell from her nickname, D&D Lisa isn't the beer and boobfest type. Neither am I. But we'd wanted to take a road trip, and the destination had started as a joke. Then I pitched an article to the editor of the Bedivere University newspaper-who seemed amused by the whole World's Least Likely Spring Breakers angle-and to my surprise, Lisa went along with it.
In the end, our reasons don't matter, except to explain how we came to be cruising down State Highway 77 in the smallest hour of the morning, even though we knew-better than most-what kinds of things go bump in the night.
I flexed my hands on the Jeep's steering wheel and sank lower into the seat. It was a long drive, which hadn't seemed so daunting until I realized how much of it was through landscape so desolately featureless, it made me think Dante must have visited here before he wrote The Inferno.
"If I owned Hell and Texas, I'd rent out Texas and live in Hell."
Lisa paused in fiddling with the radio. "What's that about?"
I shrugged. "Something I read once. Like . . . Did you know Velasquez County has more cows than people in it?"
There was just enough light from the dashboard to see her roll her eyes. "Remind me to never go up against you on Jeopardy!"
Under a nearly full moon, the coastal plain was as flat as a silver-gray sea, cut by a black ribbon of highway and a smaller thread of railroad tracks running alongside. Now and then we'd reach a crossroads, where there might be a grain silo, a water tower, or a tiny fruit stand, deserted for the night and only adding to the barren atmosphere.
It seemed like there should be more traffic-other spring breakers, semis on their NAFTA routes, minivans loaded up like the Griswolds' station wagon in Vacation-but since we'd passed Corpus Christi, the signs of civilization had dwindled to zero. We'd passed the last minimart an hour ago, and with nothing on the horizon but more road-and eventually Mexico-I was beginning to regret the twelve ounces of Coke I'd downed to keep alert in the unrelieved boredom.
"You didn't have to come with me," I pointed out.
Lisa had given up on the radio and plugged my iPod into the adaptor. "Is it so weird to want to do something normal?"
I glanced at her silhouette, arching my brows wryly. "For you? Yes."
"I'm taking a break from my sorcerous studies. It will be just like the old days, except that instead of sitting around in the caf mocking the jock-headed and lame, we'll be sitting on the sand mocking the drunk, sunburnt, and slutty." She bent her long, denim-clad leg to an impossible angle and propped her foot on the dash. "Besides, I'm ahead on all my coursework, so what else am I going to do? Sit around and play World of Warcraft all week?"
Our friendship had endured four years of high school, freshman semesters spent at colleges half a country apart-not to mention the forces of darkness. In the past year, one of us had summoned a demon, one of us had vanquished it, and our friendship had nearly fallen apart. Then we'd had to team up to defeat a sorority who had the devil on speed dial. Lisa had saved my life, which went a long way toward reestablishing trust between us.
That's a grossly abbreviated summary of events, of course. The important thing is, Lisa isn't a bad person,...
About the Author
Rosemary Clement-Moore lives in Texas with her husband and too many pets. Hell Week is her second book for young readers. You can visit her online at www.readrosemary.com.
