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    Alex
    Alex
    Alex
    Ebook58 pages44 minutes

    Alex

    By Lauren Oliver

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    This captivating digital original story set in the world of Lauren Oliver's New York Times bestselling Delirium series focuses on Alex, Lena's first love.

    When Alex sacrificed himself to save Lena, he thought he was committing himself to certain death, but what he got was almost worse. Imprisoned and tortured by the guards, his mind forces him to relive a past he would rather forget. But in the dark he grows stronger. Both hopeful and terrified, he fights to find his way back to her and the love he still clings to.

    In this digital story that will appeal to fans of Delirium and welcome new admirers to its world, readers will learn of Alex's time after the events of Delirium, as well as the dark past that he has tried to forget.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins
    Release dateNov 25, 2014
    ISBN9780062380197
    Alex
    Author

    Lauren Oliver

    Lauren Oliver is the cofounder of media and content development company Glasstown Entertainment, where she serves as the President of Production. She is also the New York Times bestselling author of the YA novels Replica, Vanishing Girls, Panic, and the Delirium trilogy: Delirium, Pandemonium, and Requiem, which have been translated into more than thirty languages. The film rights to both Replica and Lauren's bestselling first novel, Before I Fall, were acquired by Awesomeness Films. Before I Fall was adapted into a major motion picture starring Zoey Deutch. It debuted at the Sundance Film Festival in 2017, garnering a wide release from Open Road Films that year. Oliver is a 2012 E. B. White Read-Aloud Award nominee for her middle-grade novel Liesl & Po, as well as author of the middle-grade fantasy novel The Spindlers and The Curiosity House series, co-written with H.C. Chester. She has written one novel for adults, Rooms. Oliver co-founded Glasstown Entertainment with poet and author Lexa Hillyer. Since 2010, the company has developed and sold more than fifty-five novels for adults, young adults, and middle-grade readers. Some of its recent titles include the New York Times bestseller Everless, by Sara Holland; the critically acclaimed Bonfire, authored by the actress Krysten Ritter; and The Hunger by Alma Katsu, which received multiple starred reviews and was praised by Stephen King as “disturbing, hard to put down” and “not recommended…after dark.” Oliver is a narrative consultant for Illumination Entertainment and is writing features and TV shows for a number of production companies and studios. Oliver received an academic scholarship to the University of Chicago, where she was elected Phi Beta Kappa. She received a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from New York University. www.laurenoliverbooks.com.

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    Reviews for Alex

    4/5

    58 ratings4 reviews

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    • 3/5
      Well named, but not sure if I loved it
    • 4/5
      wish they had gone more know depth about how he found her and how he felt when he saw her with julian, as well as him and corals relationship.

      1 person found this helpful

    • 4/5
      So, this is the only book I didn't read in chronological order. I didn't know about this addition to the series until I'd already read most of it, so I saved it for last. Normally, I'm a firm believer in reading things in chronological order, but in this case I think it was better that I didn't. I liked not knowing what happened to Alex while in the middle of the series, but it was very nice to be able to go back and see what he was going through while Lena was on her own adventure after losing him. I definitely think that people who read the series will enjoy this insight.
    • 3/5
      MORE! UGH. Why couldn't it be until the moment he saw her again?

    Book preview

    Alex - Lauren Oliver

    Contents

    Begin Reading

    Excerpt from Panic

    Heather

    Dodge

    Excerpt from Vanishing Girls

    Before

    After

    Back Ad

    About the Author

    Books by Lauren Oliver

    Credits

    Copyright

    About the Publisher

    Begin Reading

    Let me tell you something about dying: it’s not as bad as they say.

    It’s the coming-back-to-life part that hurts.

    I was a kid again in Rhode Island, running through the gallery, heading toward the ocean.

    The gallery was what we called the long, covered walkway that ran from the harbor all the way to the old square, where you could still find bombs, undetonated, embedded in the brick. There was a rumor that went around among us—if you stepped on one, you’d explode. This kid Zero once dared me to do it, and I did just so he’d leave me alone. Nothing happened. Still, I wouldn’t have done it again.

    You never know. A second time it could go boom.

    The gallery was all in brick and housed shops that a hundred years ago must have catered to tourists, vacationers, families. The storefront windows were all gone, maybe shot out, but probably just broken after the blitz, when anyone who survived went looting for supplies. There was, in order: Lick ’n’ Swirl Ice Cream; Benjamin’s Pizza; the Arcade; the Gift Gallery; T-Shirts-n-More; Franny’s Ice Cream. The ice cream machines had been taken apart for scrap, but the pizza oven in Benjamin’s was still there, big as a car, and sometimes we used to stick our heads inside and inhale and pretend we smelled baking bread.

    There were also two art galleries, and funny enough, most of the art was still hanging on the walls. You can’t use paintings as shovels or canvas as a blanket; no point in stealing art, no one to sell it to after the blitz and no money to buy it with. There were photographs of tourists from Before, wearing bright T-shirts and strappy sandals and eating ice cream cones piled high with different-colored scoops, and paintings of the beach at dawn, and at dusk, and at night, and in the rain, and in the snow. There was one painting, I remember, that showed a broad, clean sweep of sky and the ocean drawn out to the horizon, and the sand littered with seashells and crabs and mermaid’s purses and bits of seaweed. A boy and girl were standing four feet apart, not facing each other, not acknowledging each other in any way, just standing, looking out at the water.

    I always liked that painting. I liked to think they had a secret.

    So when I died and turned kid again I went back there, back to the gallery—before Portland, and the move up north, and her. All the stores had been repaired, and there were hundreds of people standing behind the glass, palms pressed to the windowpanes, watching me as I ran. They were all shouting to me, but I couldn’t hear them. The glass was too thick. All I could see was the ghost-fog of their breath against the glass and their palms, flat and pale, like dead things.

    The longer I ran, the farther the ocean seemed, and the smaller I got, until I was so small I was no bigger than a piece of dust. Until I was no bigger than an idea. I knew I’d be okay if I could only reach the ocean, but the gallery just kept on growing, huge and full of shadows, and all those people kept

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