Read an Excerpt of ReMade!


Read an Excerpt of ReMade!

Read an Exclusive Excerpt of ReMade
What would you do if you woke up one day in a world you barely recognize—a post-apocalyptic world of artificially intelligent beings and mysterious ruins?
That’s the reality for the twenty-three teens in REMADE. They have no connection other than that they all died in the same moment and are remade in a new world, one full of possibilities and danger. Why have they been given a second chance at life? Where are they?! And what kind of dangers are awaiting them just around the corner?
Want to learn more? Check out this video!

Now, read on for a sneak peek into REMADE—a fifteen-part epic adventure series brought to you by Serial Box and created by a super squad of YA authors: Matthew Cody, Kiersten White, Andrea Phillips, Carrie Harris, E.C. Meyers, and Gwenda Bond.

ReMade Sneak Peek

Holden’s neck hurt, but at least he could turn his head. In the dream he’d been paralyzed.
He pulled himself up to a sitting position and waited for the head rush to pass. Water was dripping somewhere nearby. Plink . . . plink. He must be in a hospital, though he didn’t know how he’d gotten there. But he did remember someone screaming his name. And dreams. Terrible dreams.
He was sitting on a bed—no, not a bed, because it felt like hard plastic and there weren’t any pillows or sheets. It was more like a slab. What kind of hospital put its patients on a slab? He felt a jolt of panic, and worried for a moment that he’d woken up in a morgue. There were always stories about people who got accidentally buried, or woke up in a crematorium . . .
He’d never been in a morgue, but he’d seen them in movies and it only took a quick glance around to reassure him that this wasn’t any such thing. For one, there weren’t any of those big drawers that they kept the cadavers in. This room was plain white and pretty much bare, lit by a row of panels in the ceiling. Most of those lights were burnt out except for the one that kept flickering off and on. As far as he could tell, his slab was the only one.
Autopsy table, maybe?
With a shiver, he scooted off the table as fast as he could. It wasn’t until he stood up that he realized someone had dressed him in a plain red jumpsuit and a pair of weird slipper-sneakers. What kind of hospital dressed its patients in jumpsuits? When he rubbed his chin he discovered that he was freshly shaved.
“Hello?” he called, but no one answered. The only door in the room was round, like a hatch, with one of those wheel handles you’d see on a submarine. Not that Holden had ever been on a submarine.
But again, movies.
Cautiously, Holden tried turning the wheel. A ridiculous image popped into his head of the hatch opening and water spilling into the room, as if that hatch was the only thing between him and an entire ocean. But the handle wouldn’t budge.
“Hello? Anyone there?” He knocked, but no one answered. Maybe he was in intensive care. Maybe this was some kind of sterile room. Holden did a thorough check of his body, but he couldn’t find any injuries—not even a bruise. He seemed perfectly healthy except for the dull ache in his neck. And as for the room being sterile, he soon discovered the source of the dripping noise. In one corner was a rust-colored stain where the ceiling tile had bulged and started to split. Brownish water dripped from the center of the stain into a nasty-looking puddle. A pipe in the ceiling must be leaking, or maybe there’d been a flood in a room above this one, wherever it was. A small vent high up in the wall blew in stale air, and the floor was covered in greasy scuff marks and smudges, like someone had been dragging furniture across the tiles. But the slab was the only thing in the room.
A greasy floor, a leaky ceiling, and flickering lights. If this was a hospital, then Holden was damn sure going to complain to someone. If it wasn’t . . . well, he wasn’t ready to go there. Not yet.
He decided to try the door one more time, putting all of his skinny weight into it, but the handle still wouldn’t move for him. He knocked; he pounded and shouted and even asked nicely. No one answered. No one came.
Eventually he stopped pacing, gave up banging on the door, sat down on the slab, and waited. Someone had gone through all the trouble to put him here, and that meant they had to come sooner or later. Right?

Sooo… we have no idea what is happening, but we must admit we are intrigued and can’t wait to uncover the mysteries in this twisty epic serialized story.
You can continue reading and get the first two episodes of ReMade free by downloading the Serial Box app here or by clicking here to read or listen on the Serial Box website!

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