Prom House | Mueller, Chelsea

Lange Beschreibung
It's the season to scream . . . Prom turns deadly in this unputdownable thriller for fans of Halloween Kills and Fear Street.

A KILLER AFTERPARTY . . .

When Kylie walks into the gorgeous beach house, it s a dream come true. She still can t believe she talked her parents into letting her spend the weekend down the shore with her boyfriend, Liam, after prom. Kylie, Liam, and their friends have rented the most amazing party house and it s all theirs. Prom was awesome, but this is going to be even better.

Except there s a little problem. A violent storm hits the beach and the power goes out with no sign that it s coming back anytime soon. Roughing it with candles and camping lanterns isn t the vibe they were going for, but everyone wants to make the most of it. Until people start disappearing . . . and turning up dead. Kylie is terrified. Is somebody s prom date a killer?

Rezensierung
A YALSA 2022 Quick Pick for Reluctant Readers!

'Those addicted to teen drama will be hooked.'--Kirkus

'[T]he perfect set up for a whodunit thriller.'--School Library Journal

'This book is a fun, blood-filled young adult thriller that can be gulped down in one day.'--Lish McBride, author of Hold Me Closer, Necromancer

Buchausschnitt

one 

I was not prepared for a house this swanky. As I stood outside on the wide, wraparound porch, I couldn t help but gape at the glamorous dark paneling and white trim. Rentals--especially party rentals--usually came with shabby carpet and dripping refrigerators. Judging by the exterior, this Jersey Shore mansion was none of that. It was movie-level luxe, and I was staying here with my friends for an epic prom weekend. 

Yes! I whispered. 

My best friend, Aubrey, who had been standing shoulder to shoulder with me, opened the door without knocking. I stepped forward to catch the door before it closed behind her, the porch planks creaking in my wake. Crisp, cold landscaping lights shot up from behind the green bushes, illuminating the commanding white columns at the front of the three-story house. 

Kylie, you coming? Aubrey had both hands wrapped around the crossbody strap of her overnight bag, like her clothes were about to make a break for the beach. 

I shrugged my considerably lighter bag higher on my shoulder and walked inside. This place is ridiculous.  

Right? Even in the low light of the huge foyer, I could see that Aubrey was beaming. Her auburn hair was pulled tight into a perfect ballerina bun, but she sauntered toward the living room with the grace of a newborn giraffe. 

Watch the--  

The tip of her shoe snagged on the rug, and she pitched forward. The sofa caught her before I could. 

Rug? Her laugh was clear and high. Nothing was going to ruin this weekend for her. 

I needed to get in the same mindset, even if this plush furniture and the wildly ornate candlesticks sitting on the mantel above an oversized fireplace made me feel even more out of place. My house had a standard stoop, not this wraparound porch fanciness. 

Who rents out a party house and leaves so much breakable stuff? Overly trusting adults, I guessed. 

Aubrey shrugged. People who have money to burn.  

People ready to make a quick ten grand off seniors. Aubrey s boyfriend, Cam, sauntered into the house behind me. He let out a low whistle at the interior. 

You mean like ten thousand dollars? Even saying that number aloud made my throat squeeze. 

Wait, so Kylie didn t front the cash? Cam didn t bother disguising his sneer. He d buzzed his hair a couple weeks ago, and it somehow made him look meaner. 

Aubrey planted a fist on her hip. Don t be a dick.  

What? I m kidding. He rolled his head from side to side, like he was preparing for a fight. Kylie, the house is covered. Don t freak.  

That s not an apology, Aubrey muttered. 

This was supposed to be our first weekend of freedom. But within seconds of stepping inside this incredible party house, Cam and Aubrey were already sniping at each other. 

Babe.  

Don t babe me.  

He shuffled closer to her. His shoes screeched against the hardwood floor. Let it go, Aub. You wanted to do this.  

He cradled her face in the palm of his hand, and I had to look away. This is what they did. A fire and ice routine that left her crying every other weekend. Jabbing at each other until he made promises he wouldn t keep. I started toward the stairs. Aubrey s pouty I wanted to have the prom you promised me followed me, but I didn t look back to see if she was caving to his dimples. 

This rental was the most secluded house I d ever seen on the Jersey Shore. We were out on the end of a long road and right up next to the beach. Whic