Informationen zum Autor Born in a mountain cabin to a punk-rocker mother, Tess Sharpe grew up in rural California. She lives deep in the backwoods with a pack of dogs and a growing colony of formerly feral cats. She is an author and anthology editor, and has written several award-winning and critically acclaimed books for children, teens and adults. Klappentext "Nora O'Malley's been a lot of girls. As the daughter of a con-artist who targets criminal men, she grew up as her mother's protégé. But when her mom fell for the mark instead of conning him, Nora pulled the ultimate con: escape. For five years Nora's been playing at normal. But she needs to dust off the skills she ditched because she has three problems: #1: Her ex walked in on her with her girlfriend. Even though they're all friends, Wes didn't know about her and Iris. #2: The morning after Wes finds them kissing, they all have to meet to deposit the fundraiser money they raised at the bank. It's a nightmare that goes from awkward to deadly, because: #3: Right after they enter the bank, two guys start robbing it. The bank robbers may be trouble, but Nora's something else entirely. They have no idea who they're really holding hostage . . ."--Provided by publisher. Leseprobe Chapter 1: August 8, 9:09AM It was supposed to be twenty minutes. That's what I told myself when I woke up that morning. It wouldbe just twenty minutes. We'd meet in the bank parking lot, we'd go in, we'd make the deposit, and it would be awkward, it would be so awkward, but it would be twenty minutes, tops. I could survive twenty minutes with my ex-boyfriend and new girlfriend. I could handle the awkwardness. I was a freaking champ . I even got donuts, thinking maybe that would help smooth things over after last night's make-out interruptus, which I know is downplaying what happened. I get fried dough can't fix everything, but still. Everyone loves donuts. Especially when they have sprinkles . . . or bacon. Or both. So I get the donutsand coffee, because Iris is basically a grizzly bear unless she downs some caffeine in the morningand of course, that makes me late. By the time I pull up to the bank, they're both already there. Wes is out of his truck, tall and blond and leaning against the chipped tailgate, the bank envelope with all the cash from last night next to him. Iris is lounging on the hood of her Volvo in her watercolor dress, her curls swinging as she plays with that lighter she found on the railroad tracks. She's gonna set her brush-out on fire one of these days, I swear to God. You're late is the first thing Wes says when I get out of my car. I brought donuts. I hand Iris her coffee, and she hops off the hood. Thanks. Can we just get this over with? he asks. He doesn't even look at the donuts. My stomach clenches. Are we really back to this? How can we be back to this, after everything ? I press my lips together, trying not to look too annoyed. Fine. I put the bakery box back in my car. Let's go. I snatch up the envelope from his tailgate. The bank's just opened, so there are only two people ahead of us. Iris fills out the deposit slip, and I stand in line with Wes right behind me. The line moves as Iris walks over with the slip, taking the envelope from me and tucking it into her purse. She looks warily at Wes, then at me. I bite my lip. Just a few more minutes. Iris sighs. Look, she says to Wes, propping her hands on her hips. I understand that the way you found out wasn't great. But That's when Iris is interrupted. But not by Wes. No, Iris gets interrupted by the guy in front of us. Because the guy in front of us? He chooses that moment to pull out a gun and start robbing the freaking bank. The first thing I think is Shit ! The second thing I think is Get down . And the third ...

Klappentext

"Nora O'Malley's been a lot of girls. As the daughter of a con-artist who targets criminal men, she grew up as her mother's protégé. But when her mom fell for the mark instead of conning him, Nora pulled the ultimate con: escape. For five years Nora's been playing at normal. But she needs to dust off the skills she ditched because she has three problems: #1: Her ex walked in on her with her girlfriend. Even though they're all friends, Wes didn't know about her and Iris. #2: The morning after Wes finds them kissing, they all have to meet to deposit the fundraiser money they raised at the bank. It's a nightmare that goes from awkward to deadly, because: #3: Right after they enter the bank, two guys start robbing it. The bank robbers may be trouble, but Nora's something else entirely. They have no idea who they're really holding hostage . . ."--Provided by publisher.

Zusammenfassung
A New York Times Bestseller A USA Today Bestseller In this feminist, suspenseful thriller the daughter of a con artist is taken hostage in a bank heist—and will need to tap into all her skills in order to survive.

Nora O'Malley's been a lot of girls. As the daughter of a con-artist who targets criminal men, she grew up as her mother's protégé. But when her mom fell for the mark instead of conning him, Nora pulled the ultimate con: escape.

For five years Nora's been playing at normal. But she needs to dust off the skills she ditched because she has three problems:

1: Her ex walked in on her with her girlfriend. Even though they're all friends, Wes didn't know about her and Iris.

2: The morning after Wes finds them kissing, they all have to meet to deposit the fundraiser money they raised at the bank. It's a nightmare that goes from awkward to deadly, because:

3: Right after they enter the bank, two guys start robbing it.

The bank robbers may be trouble, but Nora's something else entirely. They have no idea who they're really holding hostage . . .

A FORBES, BUZZFEED, BOOK RIOT AND KIRKUS BEST BOOK OF THE YEAR

Leseprobe
Chapter 1: August 8, 9:09AM

It was supposed to be twenty minutes.

That’s what I told myself when I woke up that morning. It wouldbe just twenty minutes. We’d meet in the bank parking lot, we’d go in, we’d make the deposit, and it would be awkward, it would be so awkward, but it would be twenty minutes, tops.

I could survive twenty minutes with my ex-boyfriend and new girlfriend. I could handle the awkwardness. I was a freaking champ.

I even got donuts, thinking maybe that would help smooth things over after last night’s make-out interruptus, which I know is downplaying what happened. I get fried dough can’t fix everything, but still. Everyone loves donuts. Especially when they have sprinkles . . . or bacon. Or both. So I get the donuts—and coffee, because Iris is basically a grizzly bear unless she downs some caffeine in the morning—and of course, that makes me late. By the time I pull up to the bank, they’re both already there.

Wes is out of his truck, tall and blond and leaning against the chipped tailgate, the bank envelope with all the cash from last night next to him. Iris is lounging on the hood of her Volvo in her watercolor dress, her curls swinging as she plays with that lighter she found on the railroad tracks. She’s gonna set her brush-out on fire one of these days, I swear to God.

“You’re late” is the first thing Wes says when I get out of my car.

“I brought donuts.” I hand Iris her coffee, and she hops off the hood.

“Thanks.”

“Can we just get this over with?” he asks. He doesn’t even look at the donuts. My stomach clenches. Are we really back to this? How can we be back to this, after everything?

I press my lips together, trying not to look too annoyed. “Fine.” I put the bakery box back in my car. “Let’s go.” I snatch up the envelope from his tailgate.

The bank’s just opened, so t…