FREAKS OF GREENFIELD HIGH is the first book in the FREAKS series.

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You can buy FREAKS IN THE CITY (Book 2) and FREAKS UNDER FIRE (Book 3: releasing 31 March 2015!) now at Smashwords, Apple iBooks Stores worldwide, Amazon worldwide, B&N, Kobo, Google Play, and All Romance eBooks.



By Maree Anderson

How bad can high school possibly be? When you're a cyborg, struggling to understand what it means to be human, let's just say "it's complicated".


Copyright 2011 by Maree Anderson

This novel is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. All rights reserved; the right to reproduce this book or any portion thereof in any form whatsoever in any country whatsoever without the express permission of the author is forbidden.



By Maree Anderson

Dr. Alexander Jay Durham squinted through a gap in the blinds at the convoy snaking up the dirt road. The dying light painted the black Hummers with crimson-hued menace, making them appear as though they'd been dipped in blood. Foolish, greedy men. Alex could not find it in him to regret their fate.

The shadows haunting the study resolved into a teenage girl. She glided over to take his arm. "Come away from the window, Father. It is not safe."

Bah. He was dying. Worrying about his safety was futile. Nevertheles­s, he allowed her to help him to his favorite armchair and settle him into its comforting cushions.

His gaze skittered about, finally coming to rest on a framed photo atop the mantelpiece. It captured a young woman wearing a cheerful sun-colored dress, her lips curved in a wide, unrestrained smile. Time rewound and Alex saw himself with her, pulling all manner of ridiculous faces to make her laugh. His hand fisted on his chest, pressing atop his heart to keep the memories safely imprisoned. Now was not the time to become lost in the past.

His gaze cut to the girl, now seated at the computer desk. And, as it always did when he looked at her, the pain of his loss faded to a dull, comforting ache.

She was his legacy. From the facial structure and skin-tone, to the tousled mane of raven hair that resisted all efforts to tame it, she was a younger replica of his dead wife. She had but one unique physical characteristic, something that was hers and only hers. Alex's brows knit into a frown. Perhaps he'd been foolish to experiment. Perhaps the startling cobalt hue of her eyes would make her too remarkable, too memorable. Perhaps he'd endangered her by-

He reined in his fears. She was skilled at subterfuge. She would cope admirably without him. He had to believe that. "We haven't got much time," he said. "Do you know what to do?"

The girl glanced up from the computer. She slanted her brilliantly clear gaze at him, head cocked to one side in a perfect imitation of thoughtfulness as her fingertips flew over the keyboard. "We have seven minutes fifty-one seconds before the attack force reaches the outskirts of the property. They will secure the area before they begin the assault." She tapped out one last combination of keys and her hands stilled. "And yes, Father, I know what to do."

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