“This book is real. Like the protagonist, it’s vulnerable, honest, and incredibly brave. Kate’s story will be a lifeline for kids observing impossible situations and wondering where the right and wrong is in all of it. I could not put it down.” (Maya Van Wagenen, New York Times Bestselling Author of Popular)
“A powerful tale of betrayal and a vital primer on rape culture.” (Kirkus Reviews (starred review))
“The author has delivered an important, powerful, and engrossing read that gives readers a lot to consider… A gripping narrative that begs to be discussed.” (School Library Journal)
“Debut novelist Hartzler pulls no punches in his depiction of rape culture. A stirring, important read. (Booklist)
“An outstanding debut novel with so much heart, it is destined for the bestseller lists.” (Voice of Youth Advocates (VOYA))
“A thought-provoking look at victim blaming.” (Publishers Weekly)
PRAISE FOR RAPTURE PRACTICE: “...a hilarious first of its kind story that will surely inspire more.” (Kirkus Reviews (starred review))
From the Back Cover
The party last Saturday night is a bit of a blur.
Kate Weston can piece together most of the bash at John Doone's house: shots with Stacey Stallard, Ben Cody taking Kate's keys and getting her home early, the feeling that maybe Ben is becoming more than just the guy she's known since they were kids.
But when a picture of Stacey passed out over Deacon Mills's shoulder appears online the next morning, Kate suspects she doesn't have all the details, and begins to ask questions.
What really happened at the party after she left?
Who was still there?
What did they see?
When Stacey levels charges against four of Kate's classmates, the whole town erupts into controversy. Facts that can't be ignored begin to surface, and every answer Kate finds leads back to the same question:
Where was Ben when a terrible crime was committed?
This story—inspired by real events—from debut novelist Aaron Hartzler takes an unflinching look at silence as a form of complicity. It's a book about the high stakes of speaking up, and the razor-thin line between guilt and innocence that so often gets blurred, one hundred and forty characters at a time.