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Resonance By Erica O'Rourke. Part of Dissonance. Trade Paperback. Hardcover eBook. Price may vary by retailer. Add to Cart Add to Cart. About The Book. Given enough time and the right choices, anything could happen. I believed him. Then I grew up. I stopped believing. Turns out, he was right. Invisibility suited me fine.

The Mediumship of the Listener

But some things you need to see—or hear—to believe. I hovered like a ghost at the edge of the crowded hallway. But when Simon Lane came around the corner, dark hair falling into blue eyes, jaw square and stubborn, smile full of trouble. I knew I was the one being haunted. Pain roared through me, hungry as a wildfire.

More books from this author: Erica O'Rourke

Not my Simon, though the pitch of this world was sharp and familiar. An Echo of him, and one I knew well: the shape of his hands fitted with mine; the feel of his mouth against my throat; the lazy, prowling movements that made my knees go weak. Doughnut Simon—as vibrant and magnetic as his Original—should no longer exist. The sound of him reached me clearly, despite the distance and bodies between us. The same frequency as the rest of the Echo, but stronger, as if his volume was turned up to eleven when everyone else was a ten.

He should have been silent. A terminal Echo, one whose Original had died. A little more than a week ago, his Original had trapped himself in a world unraveling to nothingness to save me and the rest of the multiverse. His death in the cleaving should have unraveled his Echoes, robbing them of their frequency and their lives.

This Simon should have been silent, but his pitch was true as ever. The only explanation was that my Simon had survived the cleaving. Hope beat in my chest, the faintest of wings. I tried to smother it, but hope feeds on the impossible as surely as grief feeds on memory. One touch. One touch, to be certain, and I would leave. He might not remember me.

A few minutes, or hours, or days after a Walker left a world, her impression faded from the minds of Echoes like a mirage in the desert. He swaggered through the hallway, surrounded by friends, all of them in similar layers of leather and flannel and denim, Simon in the center like a sun amid planets. I readied myself, muscles tense and ears attuned.

Electronics/Resonance

Time slowed as he drew even with me, and my feet moved of their own accord. He turned, laughing offhandedly at some inane comment, and caught sight of me. His eyes met mine. He stopped laughing. I froze. He remembered me. Before I could react, he broke away from his friends and grabbed me. The shock of his frequency made me go limp with relief. My Simon was alive. She lives near Chicago with her family. Visit her at EricaORourke.

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Part of Dissonance.

Trade Paperback. Hardcover eBook. Price may vary by retailer. Add to Cart Add to Cart. About The Book. Given enough time and the right choices, anything could happen. I believed him. Then I grew up. I stopped believing. Turns out, he was right. Invisibility suited me fine. But some things you need to see—or hear—to believe. I hovered like a ghost at the edge of the crowded hallway.

But when Simon Lane came around the corner, dark hair falling into blue eyes, jaw square and stubborn, smile full of trouble. I knew I was the one being haunted. Pain roared through me, hungry as a wildfire. Not my Simon, though the pitch of this world was sharp and familiar.

An Echo of him, and one I knew well: the shape of his hands fitted with mine; the feel of his mouth against my throat; the lazy, prowling movements that made my knees go weak. Doughnut Simon—as vibrant and magnetic as his Original—should no longer exist. The sound of him reached me clearly, despite the distance and bodies between us. The same frequency as the rest of the Echo, but stronger, as if his volume was turned up to eleven when everyone else was a ten. He should have been silent. A terminal Echo, one whose Original had died. A little more than a week ago, his Original had trapped himself in a world unraveling to nothingness to save me and the rest of the multiverse.

His death in the cleaving should have unraveled his Echoes, robbing them of their frequency and their lives. This Simon should have been silent, but his pitch was true as ever. The only explanation was that my Simon had survived the cleaving.

Guide: How to cite a Book in Magnetic Resonance in Medicine style

Hope beat in my chest, the faintest of wings. I tried to smother it, but hope feeds on the impossible as surely as grief feeds on memory. One touch. One touch, to be certain, and I would leave. He might not remember me.

Book:Resonance - Wikipedia

A few minutes, or hours, or days after a Walker left a world, her impression faded from the minds of Echoes like a mirage in the desert. He swaggered through the hallway, surrounded by friends, all of them in similar layers of leather and flannel and denim, Simon in the center like a sun amid planets. I readied myself, muscles tense and ears attuned. Time slowed as he drew even with me, and my feet moved of their own accord.

He turned, laughing offhandedly at some inane comment, and caught sight of me.