You can read the new Seizure review on the Kirkus site here. While you’re there take a look at some of their recommendations for your next book.

Virals received a starred review last year which you can read here on the Kirkus site.

by Susan Carpenter
for The Los Angeles Times

After 13 books that have netted her as many bestsellers and a hit TV show that is now in its fifth season, “Bones” author Kathy Reichs once again gets forensic with her latest, only this time the book is for young adults.

Lucky them.

Reichs is a master storyteller who, with the kickoff to her new series, “Virals,” ratchets up the thrill-o-meter on the well-trodden young-adult trope of prep school outsiders negotiating the hormonal minefield of crushes and popular kids. Adding science, intrigue and a dash of wolfen fantasy to the mix, “Virals,” in bookstores this Tuesday, is a thrill ride of a murder mystery that is likely to appeal to her adult fans as much as it will to kids.

“Virals” is the latest incarnation of a trend that has seen dozens of literary heavy hitters applying their talents to books for younger readers, although only some of these writers have successfully translated their styles and sensibilities into plots populated with characters that resonate with tween and teen audiences. Reichs’ newest hits all the right marks.

Leveraging the smarty-pants heroine at the heart of her “Bones” bestsellers — legendary forensic anthropologist Temperance Brennan — “Virals” stars her niece, Tory Brennan. Aunt Tempe, as she’s known in “Virals,” is referenced throughout the book, providing a genealogical connection that enables Reichs not only to bridge readership between her series but also explain how Tory, a freshman in high school, has such an unusually deep knowledge of the biological sciences.

Every bit as headstrong and intelligent as her famous aunt, Tory is only 14, but what she lacks in life experience she makes up in guts as she faces the classic collision course of corrupt government, old money and big business, all of it unwittingly.

Tory recently lost her mother in a car crash. She now lives with her workaholic marine biologist dad on a small island off Charleston, S.C. — Tory knew nothing about her father until her mother’s death. Finding common ground with her father is a struggle, but at least Tory has no trouble making friends. She is down to earth, pretty, sarcastic — an engaging protagonist who tells her story in an energetic, conversational tone employing ample use of sentence fragments.

Her best buddies are a trio of geeks who also live on the island. Together, they spend their off-time doing what bored, intelligent teens tend to do: exploring things they shouldn’t and, as a result, getting into trouble. After finding an old dog tag, Tory persuades her friends to break into a research lab and use some of its equipment to decipher the tag’s engraving. At the research lab, they discover a caged dog. They free the dog, not knowing the dog is infected with a top-secret, experimental virus. The kids catch the virus, but they’ve also caught something else: major heat from the guy who runs the lab.

The kids and the dog are now pursued by the authorities, and just staying alive is difficult. That problem only worsens when the kids unearth a corpse connected to a powerful senator whose son is one of their classmates — a classmate on whom Tory has a crush.

Complicating matters even further is the tendency among Tory and her friends to “flare.” The dog they rescued infected them with canine DNA that is now part of their genetic makeup, and now, whenever they experience stress, which is often, they turn into golden-eyed, quasi-animals who have the sensory and physical capabilities of wolves.

One minute they’re eating in the school cafeteria, the next they’re uncontrollably drawn to live squirrels and can hear flies’ wings flapping from long distances. This flaring tends to happen at the most hilariously inopportune times, such as the dreaded debutante ball Tory is forced to attend. At least the flares have an upside. Often they lead to clues that help them unravel the mystery.

“Virals” is a fast-paced and truly apocryphal tale, but it’s enormously inventive and entertaining. Although there’s quite a bit of profanity for a book targeting readers as young as 12, there’s even more use of some popular faux profanity. Sexual content, at least, is nonexistent. In all, it’s quite a spirited romp. It will be interesting to see if this self-described group of “Virals” learn to flare on demand and, if so, how that will help its members solve the series’ upcoming forensic anomalies. If the “Bones” series is any indication, the series’ second installment, “Seizure,” out next summer, is likely to continue this wildly enjoyable adventure.

Read the review on the LA Times site.

SNAP.

The rush was electric, like grabbing the third rail in a subway tunnel.

My blood raced, molten lead careening through scorched veins.

Pain.

Disorientation.

Then power. Limitless power. Visceral power.

Sweat exploded from every pore.

My irises sparked, flashed golden. Glowing yellow disks encircled bottomless, inky-black pupils. The world sharpened to a laser-fine crispness. My eyes pierced like daggers.

My ears buzzed, then honed to supersonic clarity. White noise filled my head. A beat. The dissonance  coalesced into a symphony of distinguishable ocean sounds.

My nose awoke, whisked patterns from the summer breeze, deftly read the coastal scents. Salt. Sand. Sea. My nostrils sifted the delicate nuances.

My arms and legs quivered, smoldering with caged energy yearning for release. Unconsciously, I bared my teeth in animal delight.

The feeling was so incredible, so potent, that I panted with the pleasure of it. I wanted to live in that moment forever. Never stop. Never return.

I flared.

Beside me, Ben grimaced, dark eyes clamped shut. Muscles tense, his powerful frame trembling, he tried to flare by sheer force of will. Failed.

It doesn’t work that way.

I kept quiet. Who was I to give advice? In the end, I didn’t understand our powers any more than Ben. My control wasn’t much better than his.

Not once I freed the wolf.

I suppose you’re wondering what I’m talking about. Or you’ve already decided I’m nuts and are slowly backing away from this book. Can’t say I blame you. A few months ago, I’d have done the same thing.

But that was before I changed. Before a microscopic invader altered my biological software. Before I evolved, became something more. Something brand new. Something primal.

Here’s the short of it.

A few months back, a nasty supervirus infected my friends and me. The organism wasn’t natural. It came straight from a secret laboratory, created during an illegal experiment. And this bug had a taste for human carriers.

How did I get so lucky?

An unscrupulous scientist, Dr. Marcus Karsten, cooked up the germ. He was my father’s boss at Loggerhead Island Research Institute. In a mad dash for cash, Karsten crossed two types of parvovirus, accidentally creating a new strain that was contagious to people. Unfortunately, we caught it from a wolfdog named Cooper, Karsten’s test subject.

Don’t get me started.

Anyway, I was sick for days. We all were. Then things got weird.

My brain would snap like a rubber band. My senses would go berserk.

At times I’d lose control, unable to suppress sudden animal instincts. Scarfing raw hamburger meat. Stalking a caged gerbil.  It was the same for the others.

When the dust settled, my friends and I were forever altered, down to the core. The vicious pathogen scrambled our cellular blueprint. Rewrote our genetic code. Canine DNA barged into my human chromosomes and made itself at home.

It’s not easy, living with wolf instincts buried inside your double helix.

But our condition is not without certain . . . benefits.

I’ll be blunt. My friends and I have special powers. Superhuman abilities. Hidden, but very real. You heard me right.

We’re kind of a big deal. Or would be, if we could tell anyone about it, which we can’t. Not unless we want to learn about human dissection. Up close.

We call the power “flaring.” That’s the best I can describe the sensation. I burn up inside, my mind warps and snaps, and then boom! My powers unleash.

I’m learning to control my abilities. At least, I think I am.

Okay, hope I am.

Heck, I’d settle for just knowing what they are.

I understand the basics. When I flare, my senses go into hyperdrive. Sight. Smell. Hearing. Taste. Even touch.

I become faster. Stronger.

More alive.

Viral.

That’s what we call ourselves. Virals. It seemed appropriate to have a group name after becoming a gang of genetic mutants. It’s good for morale.

There are five Virals total. Me. Ben. Hi. Shelton. And my wolfdog, Cooper, of course. After all, he was patient zero.

The upshot is we Virals can tap the physical powers of wolves. But not always when we want them. And sometimes the changes come unbidden.

To be honest, we have no idea exactly what happened to us, or what we can do to fix it. Or what will happen next.

But one thing is certain: we’re different. Freaks. Disambiguations.

And we’re on our own.

Ben’s frustration grew with each passing moment. Angry, he ripped off his black T-shirt and threw it to the sand, as if the garment alone was foiling his efforts. Perspiration covered his deeply tanned skin.

I turned away so he wouldn’t see my already glowing eyes.

Didn’t want to increase his aggravation. Ben Blue in a mood is no fun for anyone.

Hi crouched just beyond Ben. A chubby kid with wavy brown hair, he wore a red Hawaiian shirt and green board shorts. Not exactly stylish—or even matching—but classic Hiram Stolowitski.

He stared down the shoreline, having long since lit his own flare. Of all the Virals, accessing the power came easiest to Hi.

“I see you, Mr. Rabbit,” he whispered to himself. “You can’t hide from Wolfman Hi.”

“Good work,” I deadpanned. With my powers unleashed, his every word was crystal clear. “Taunting a helpless bunny. That’s a worthwhile use of our flare time.”

“He taunted me first.” Hi’s gaze remained glued to his target. “By being so darn cute! Aren’t cha? Aren’t cha cute, you fuzzy wittle guy!”

My golden eyes rolled. “We’re supposed to be practicing.”

“Then practice your vision, Lady Buzzkill.” He pointed. “Fifty yards. Third dune from the tree line, the one with all the cattails. Typha latifolia. Brown fur, speckled. Black whiskers. It’s an eastern cottontail. Sylvilagus floridanus.”

Hi loved showing off his knowledge of natural history almost as much as he liked conducting scientific experiments. Both traits were inherited from his father, LIRI’s head mechanical engineer.

Then Hi mock-squealed, his cheeks reddening. “Oh! And he’s got a bunny friend now, too!”

We stood near the northern edge of Turtle Beach, on the west

coast of Loggerhead Island. The interior forest loomed to my right. To my left stretched the Atlantic Ocean, unbroken all the way to Africa.

I focused on the spot Hi had indicated, a rough patch of cattails and salt myrtle at the wood’s edge. My gaze zeroed. Locked.

The scene leaped forward with awesome clarity, beyond anything a human eye should be able to see. I could make out every leaf, every twig. Sure enough, two snuffling rabbits were tucked inside the foliage.

Half a football field away.

“Your flare vision is fantastic,” I said. “Better than mine. I can’t make out their whiskers from this distance.”

Hi shrugged. “Then I’ve got you beat with one sense, at least. I don’t hear as well as Shelton, or have your schnozzaroo.”

Beside me, Ben grunted. Growled. Shook. He still couldn’t light the lamp. His eyes remained closed, but his mutters had shifted to four-letter words. Unpleasant ones.

Observing Ben’s struggle, Hi scratched his chin. Glanced at me. Shrugged. Then he quietly slipped around behind Ben.

And, without ceremony, kicked him in the ass. Hard.

Ben toppled forward into the sand.

“What the hell!?!” Ben surged to his feet and advanced on Hi with clenched fists. His eyes now blazed with yellow fire.

“Take it easy, slugger!” Hi backpedaled, both hands in the air. “I was only getting you mad enough! Had to be done.”

So far, Ben could only tap his power when enraged. Like now. He looked ready to remove Hi’s head.

“Stop!” I yelled, anxious to prevent a homicide. “Ben, you’re flaring now. It worked.”

Ben paused and flexed his hands, noticing the change. Scowling, he nodded at Hi. Hi gave a big thumbs-up, grinning from ear to ear.

“We’ve got to figure out a better way,” Ben muttered, “or I’m going to end up thrashing one of you guys. I may pound Thick Burger here anyway,” he said, gesturing toward Hi.

Hi chucked Ben’s shoulder. “Hey, you’re welcome pal. Anytime.”

Faster than thought, Ben grabbed Hi and wrapped him in a vicious bear hug. “Smart-ass.”

Hi sputtered, gasped for air. “Back off! I don’t like you that way!”

Ben laughed. Then he lifted Hi over his shoulders. Effortlessly.

My jaw dropped.

Ben spun Hi overhead like a chopper blade. Once. Twice. Hi turned a pale shade of green. Lime? Teal? Shamrock?

“I’m gonna puke!” Hi warned. “DEFCON One!”

Ben bounded to the waterline. Heaved.

Hi flew like a ragdoll, landed face-first in two feet of surf, sputtering and cursing.

Ben grinned wickedly. “I think I’ve got it now. Thanks.”

“Ungrateful.” Hi blew water from his nose while surveying his sopping clothes. “But I’ll admit, that was kind of awesome. You get strong.”

Hi tried splashing his attacker, but Ben danced away, hooting. Then Ben sprinted down Turtle Beach, leaped the sand dunes, and disappeared from sight.

“Wow,” I said. “He’s fast, too. Much faster than me, even flaring.”

Hi slogged back onto the beach. “I let him win. He needs the self-confidence.”

“Right.”

“Hey, I’m a giver.”

“A saint.”

It was good to see Ben laugh again. Smiles had been rare since the Heaton case. The media firestorm had burned out quickly, but our parents were not so easily distracted. We’d each been grounded for most of the summer.

And I mean grounded. The adults had been savvy enough to hit where it hurt. No visitors, TV, or phone. Not even Internet access. It was brutal, like living in a cave.

With no chances to meet or even discuss our abilities, I’d begun to quietly freak the flip out.

The virus was a wildcard rampaging through our bodies. Anything was possible.

Was the sickness gone for good? Had our powers stabilized? Did anyone else know about Karsten’s secret experiment? About Coop? About us?

I’d been trapped with these questions for weeks. Alone.

The isolation hadn’t been good for my nerves.

Ben escaped first. The senior Blues never paid much attention to discipline. My parole came August first, after nearly two months served.

Good behavior? More like constant moping. I just wore Kit down.

Hi had finally talked his way out last week. That surprised me. Knowing his mother, Ruth Stolowitski, I thought he’d be last for sure. Not so. As far as I knew, Shelton was still on lockdown. Apparently the Devers had zero tolerance for criminal behavior, regardless of justification.

Make no mistake, I was still on probation. Strict. Kit was watching me like a hawk. At least, he thought he was.

Once Hi shook free, the three of us began trekking out to Loggerhead every week. We needed to practice, safe from prying eyes. The isolation was ideal. And, right under my father’s nose, I could visit the island without suspicion.

Loggerhead is held in trust by Charleston University. Very few have permission to visit. Luckily, dear old dad works here. So do the other Virals’ parents.

Kit Howard is a marine biologist working at LIRI, the university’s on-site scientific station. One of the most advanced veterinary facilities on the planet, LIRI consists of a three-acre walled compound nestled on the islet’s southern half.

That’s not all. Loggerhead Island is a full-fledged primate research center, with troops of rhesus monkeys roaming free in the woods. No permanent buildings exist outside the main complex.

The habitat is as close to undisturbed as possible for a prime hunk of real estate lying just off Charleston Harbor.

A perfect place to fly your freak flag.

This was our third practice session, and we’d begun to notice slight differences in our abilities. Strengths. Weaknesses. Variations in style and finesse.

But the powers were complex, our grasp of them far from complete. What I didn’t understand would fill the ocean. Deep down, I suspected we’d barely scraped our full potential.

An explosion of sand reclaimed my attention.

My gaze fastened on a bouncing shape, moving wicked fast. Zoomed. Tracked. Unconsciously, my  muscles tensed, ready to spring.

Then, recognition.

Ben, flying across the sandbank, a wild look on his face.

A second later, I knew why.

He was being chased.

by Mike Whitmer
for The Deseret News

Tory Brennan and her four Virals pack members are back for another challenge. Endowed with super abilities from a rogue virus, the five adventurers are on a quest for a lost pirate treasure, but they aren’t alone in the search.

Author Kathy Reichs, creator of the “Bones” TV show, delivers another story for young adults in a tale that is rife with tension, thrills and danger.

Tory, with her friends Ben, Hiram and Shelton and her faithful wolf-dog, Cooper, form the pack known as the Vials. Each member of the pack has developed special canine characteristics after coming into contact with an illegally developed parvovirus created by Dr. Marcus Karsten.

These special powers, plus the determination of the teenage mind and heart, drive the Virals as they seek to discover a way to help their families.

Budget cuts threaten the facility where their parents work, and unless the Virals can come up with millions of dollars, their lives will be changed forever and they will be separated.

Following the clues of a 300-year-old map, Tory and the boys begin a search for a lost treasure hidden by the infamous female pirate Anne Bonny. Along the way they must deal with hidden traps, gun-toting criminals and secret messages that make the way more difficult. Added to this, Tory also has to contend with her newfound dad and his society-obsessed girlfriend who wants to make her a social debutante.

Reichs has captured much of the angst and struggles of being a young adult and wanting to move to the full adult world. While Tory and her friends struggle with their new powers, they are also trying to find place in the world where they live.

Reichs has also included a fair amount of language and attitude that may concern parents of young people. In addition to normal teen swear words and replacement words for swear words, there are many instances of lying to parents and disobeying rules of the family and society. Using movie standards, this book would probably earn a PG-13 rating for language, violence and inappropriate attitude.

View PDF review

So when Tory learns of an old Charleston legend about a famous she-pirate, Anne Bonney, whose fortune was never found, she can’t believe her luck – buried treasure is exactly what she needs to save the Institute on Loggerhead! Trouble is, she and her friends aren’t the only ones looking for it. And this time, the Virals’ special powers may not be enough to dig them out of trouble . . .

“The Kentucky Bluegrass Award is a student choice program. The purpose of the KBA is to encourage the students of Kentucky in grades K through 12 to read a variety of quality literature suitable for their age and reading abilities. All Kentucky public and private schools, as well as public libraries, are welcome to participate in the program.”

Learn more on The Bluegrass Award website.

For more information, please visit: www.psla.org