Dark Life book. Read reviews from the world's largest community for readers. A thrilling futuristic adventure set deep undersea, Dark Life follows. Book 1. Dark Life. by Kat Falls. · 13, Ratings · 1, Reviews · published · 29 editions. A thrilling futuristic adventure set deep underse More. Dark Life is the first book in a futuristic adventure fiction and science fiction series of the same name by Kat Falls. The novel was published May 1, by.
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"[T]here's no denying the nifty premise, solid characterization, and tense moments that contribute to a cinematic reading experience. Falls's undersea world. Dark Life Book Series (2 Books). All Formats Kindle Edition. From Book 1. The oceans rose, swallowing the lowlands. Earthquakes shattered the continents. Dive deep into the vivid underwater world of Dark Life!The oceans rose, swallowing the lowlands. Earthquakes shattered the continents, toppling entire regions.
Read More Read Less. Latest Book in the Series. Rip Tide. Go to book.
Dark Life by Kat Falls February 1, Order in the next 70 hours 3 minutes and get it by Wednesday, June More downloading Choices - Paperback. Book 1 of 2. Other Formats: Add to Cart. Add to Wish List. Rip Tide by Kat Falls Book 2 of 2. See more information. More About the Authors. Kat Falls. Award-winning novelist Kat Falls captivates her audience with fast-paced, action-packed thrillers. In Dark Life and its sequel, Riptide, Kat takes her middle school-aged readers into science fiction adventure under the sea.
The series has been translated into 17 languages and Dark Life is in development for film at Disney.
Kat's young adult novel, Inhuman, is a dystopian romance set after a devastating biological disaster. Kat teaches screenwriting at Northwestern University and lives in Evanston, Illinois with her husband, theater director Robert Falls, and their three children.
Not that I was in the clear. As soon as the flare died, the sharks would be on me like suckerfish on a whale.
I thought about burying myself in the thick ooze of the seafloor. Bedding down with the boulder-sized clams had worked before. I chanced a look over my shoulder. Sure enough, the darkness twinkled with stars — vicious little stars, shooting my way.
Tilting the manta into a nosedive, I flicked on the head beams, only to have the light reflect off metal. A sub! I crashed into it and toppled, boots over helmet. Sliding down the sloped hull, I grappled for a hold without luck until my feet hit the bumper and I stopped short.
My guts took longer to settle. Right now, I needed to take cover. But why was this little rig sitting on the seafloor without a light on to announce its presence? Was it a wreck? The polished metal hull was barnacle free. I scuttled along the bumper until I found the circular door to the air lock.
The panel cover dangled from one hinge with pry marks scoring its edge. I hesitated, wondering about those marks, when suddenly the hull gleamed with emerald light.
I slammed the entry button. Like a dilating eye, the hatch opened and seawater filled the small chamber.
Plunging into the air lock, I whirled to see sharks streaking toward me from all sides. I hit the interior button whole-handed. As the hatch clinched shut, the sharks plowed into it like mini torpedoes. From inside, they sounded like Death pounding at the door.
I slumped against the chamber wall and grinned. Nothing put a buzz in my blood like escaping predators. How many rules had I just broken? Visiting Coldsleep Canyon alone: forbidden. On nothing but a mantaboard: absolutely forbidden.
Exploring a derelict sub: off the sonar screen. But now I had to take cover until the sharks left. It was the smart thing to do. The safe thing.
Not that my parents would ever hear about the sub or the sharks. With a gang of outlaws roaming the territory, they had enough to worry about. When the last drop of seawater disappeared through the grated floor, I tipped back my helmet and inhaled. The air was rank but did its job: The oxygen-infused liquid in my lungs evaporated. Blood dripped from every surface in the gear room — walls, benches, lockers. Wet and glistening, it puddled around the prospecting tools that littered the floor.
I slowed my breath as if that would lessen the metallic tang that now filled my nose — a stink that conjured up the blood-slicked deck of a whaling ship. A sunfish or a marlin.
Nothing to panic about. I edged farther into the room.
If anything, it grew louder. You can read the full excerpt online HERE. Multiple comments will be disqualified. Good luck!