The Many Lives of Ruby Iyer
By: Laxmi Hariharan
Pages: 300
Release Date: November 13, 2014
Publisher: Books@Jacaranda
A YA action thriller, with strong dystopian undertones and a kick-ass protagonist, taking you on a white knuckle ride through a disintegrating Bombay City.
A terrifying encounter propels Ruby Iyer from her everyday commute into a battle for her own survival. Trusting her instincts, she fights for the things she believes in, led on a mysterious path between life and death on the crowded roads of Bombay; and when her best friend is kidnapped by the despotic Dr Braganza, she will do anything to rescue him. Anything, including taking the help of the sexy Vikram Roy, a cop-turned-rogue, on a mission to save Bombay. The city needs all the help it can get, and these two are the only thing standing between its total destruction by Dr Braganza's teen army. As Bombay falls apart, will Ruby be able to save her friend and the city?
Will she finally discover her place in a city where she has never managed to fit in? And what about her growing feelings for Vikram?
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Guest Post:
“How’s the head?” a familiar voice asked
softly.
Neil! She groaned, refusing to open her eyes now, as much to avoid facing
him as much to block out the pain. “That bad eh?”
She nodded,
thankful that he seemed to be taking her seriously, unable to detect any
laughter in his voice. She heard him rustle around, could picture him putting a
hand into that pocket of his infernal purple coloured long shirt which she so
loathed, and then sensed him move closer, “here you are, open your
mouth.”
Obediently she did so, without opening her eyes, and then she was sucking on
something sweet and tangy and sour, all at the same time. She made an
involuntary face, and her shoulders shook in response to the pungent flavor,
which cut through the grey-overcast-feeling clogging her mind. Eyelash by
eyelash, her lids unglued and she found she could open her eyes—still very
gingerly—but nevertheless she could open them a tiny crack, enough to see an
outline of this human—who was the last thing she wanted to see, but was yet the
first on her mind. “What the…. f!@* was that… dude?”
His brows shot up at her use of the term he had lain claim to as his own a long
time ago. “Language, Tiina, language…” he scolded her mildly, “if only your
parents could hear you now.”
“Ha! Told you they died a long time ago.”
“Are they...?” He appeared taken aback, “no, you never told me about them. Nor
for that matter have you really shared anything much about yourself as you well
know.”
She closed her eyes once
more and groaned, with more enthusiasm--this time with the hope of stalling the
oncoming inquisition, that she had resisted all these years. He had her where
he wanted her now… didn’t he… helpless, at this mercy, to bother her with all
those infernal questions… if I had the answers, would I still be
here? For the first time, she was not sure.
“Hey, sorry, I didn’t
mean to push you when you are down and out… okay?” he said softly. Her eyes
flew open in surprise, had he really said that?
“I do know,” he smiled placing his hand over hers “exactly what a hangover is
like…and by the looks of it you have a bitch of a headache there…”
“Why do humans always use the term bitch to describe anything
which hurts them?”
He laughed loudly this time and she winced growling “not so loud….”
“Sorry..” he lowered his voice, this time not sounding sorry at all, “its just
that the female of any species but especially human species have a bite to
them…”
“I really don’t agree…” she looked at his squarely, making the effort to open
her eyes wide, even though the effort sent another wave of pain lapping around
her head in concentric circles. If I look up now I swear I’d be able to
see a black hole above me, a vortex which attracts all the pain in the
galaxy. “For me it’s the male who packs a punch… unfeeling brutes” she
said rolling her tongue around the wordbrutes.
He shrugged, “suppose it swings both ways, eh?”
She simply stared, “why are you being so nice?”
“I have always been so, you just never noticed…” he protested.
“Right!” She closed her eyes again for a second then opened them repeating
drily “right!”
“But then I realize now that you never did really see me all
this time did you?”
“Not fair,” she said weakly.
“Yes, fair” he insisted right back, then ran his hand through his curly hair,
mussing it up even more, so it all stood even more on end.
“Tiina, you have no idea
what just happened earlier do you?” Making a sound of frustration
deep in his throat he continued, “we may as well talk about it instead of
tip-toeing around the issue?”
She could feel herself stiffen up instantly, the tension running through her,
facial muscles freezing up
to not let through an ounce of emotion don’t let him see
anything, her instinct warned her. Not yet!
She blinked “what are you talking about?”
“Oh! No, you are not…” He reached out as if to shake her showing a flash of
that famous temper, which had first caught her attention—a first indication she
realized, now that there was more to him than met the eye—then pulled back
folding his hands as if to prevent himself from touching her again. “You really
don’t know what I am talking about?” He sounded both hurt as well as angry, and
beneath it all was a thread of underlying unflappability, which seemed to
say I am just gonna wait for you to come around. “I will you
know…”
“What…?” she let the word hang in the air, taunting him to continue
“Eventually wear you out…
you’ve gotta figure it out for yourself, this one, don’t you?"
She shrugged again trying
to hang onto that mask of indifference which she hoped was still clinging to
her face, covering every inch of, “I really don’t know what you mean!”
Then wondered if she had pushed him too far when he cracked his knuckles with
the effort of reining them in, not letting them fly—where in her face? It
was his turn to growl, the sound rumbling up in his throat and she watched
fascinated as his chest rumbled with the effort of containing his fury.
“Are you sure you are not a half life too? You know, have some lion somewhere
in your gene pool?”
She tried to make light of the situation then regretting it instantly when his
eyes sparked, shooting darts at her.
“It's not funny.”
She grimaced at his tone, she had never heard him sound so serious, only to
flinch back in her seat when he sprung to his feet in a single motion. Seeing
the tautness in his body and the conflict on his face vibrating towards her in
seething waves, she steeled herself against his anger grateful that the
headache seemed to have dissipated—somewhat.
Noticing her reaction he said “I’d never hurt you, Tiina,” a mixed expression
on his face, this time, anger mixed with acceptance. “Trust you know how to
find your way home, then?”
“Are you leaving?” her voice came out unsteady, and she hated herself for it.
“You don’t need me… yet” he said cryptically, making towards the door. He
paused there before stepping over the threshold and turned to her “well done by
the way, you have got another admirer in that rockstar”—she
noticed he didn’t refer to him by name—“to add to your collection of
experiences no doubt” he added under his breath. Then raising his hand in a
half-hearted gesture of farewell, he was gone.