About the Author
Ann Redisch Stampler is the author of young adult novels Where It Began and Afterparty, as well as several picture books, including The Rooster Prince of Breslov. Her books have been an Aesop Accolade winner, Sydney Taylor notable books and an honor book, a National Jewish Book Awards finalist and winner, and Bank Street Best Books of the Year. Ann has two adult children and lives in Los Angeles, California with her husband.
About The Book
If you haven’t noticed, I appreciate gorgeous covers & This cover is beautiful.
Emma is tired of being good. Always the dutiful daughter to an overprotective father, she is the antithesis of her mother—whose name her dad won’t even say out loud. That’s why meeting Siobhan is the best thing that ever happened to her… and the most dangerous. Because Siobhan is fun and alluring and experienced and lives on the edge. In other words, she’s everything Emma is not.
And it may be more than Emma can handle.
Because as intoxicating as her secret life may be, when Emma begins to make her own decisions, Siobhan starts to unravel. It’s more than just Dylan, the boy who comes between them. Their high-stakes pacts are spinning out of control. Elaborate lies become second nature. Loyalties and boundaries are blurred. And it all comes to a head at the infamous Afterparty, where debauchery rages and an intense, inescapable confrontation ends in a plummet from the rooftop…
This explosive, sexy, and harrowing follow-up to Ann Redisch Stampler’s spectacular teen debut, Where It Began, reveals how those who know us best can hurt us most.
Purchase Afterparty in the links below.
This book took me back to high school…all the insecurities came back and I couldn’t put the book down!
Emma is like most teenage girls struggling with identity is she a good or bad girl?… she was the person I was always afraid to become. BUT I LOVE HER! She is so flawed and I love her! She doesn’t make great choices, she craves adventure and it gets her in trouble.
Ann completely captures what its like to be an over sheltered teenager to arrive in a new school and want to invent a new self.
Emma struggles with being a “good” girl and keeping a good standing relationship with her father and becoming the “bad” girl, partying with her best friend Siobhan being rebellious and admittedly having a great time. Two extremes Emma needs to find a healthy balance to.
My favorite relationship is the most toxic between Emma and Siobhan.
Siobhan was so real to me… crazy confident, adventurous, rebellious, gorgeous…Being around her made you feel alive. But she is trouble….Reading this book felt exactly like that… I knew bad things were going to happen but I couldn’t put the book down.
After reading Afterparty I felt so much better about life… that sounds so weird I know.. but what I mean is that… we’re human and were going to screw up constantly.. no matter how old we get… no matter how off our judgement is…we are constantly evolving and we make mistakes but we learn from them and we move on and that’s okay. This book is seriously disturbing…really dark things happen…a lot of psychological issues arise.. and it is wonderful… so if you love drama.. this book is for you.
Pee.s Did I mention there is cute boys? Well.. there is….and if that isn’t reason enough to pick up this book I don’t know what is.
Rating: 4/5 Stars
In this deleted scene, Siobhan reacts badly to being cyber-bullied. Things you need to know for the scene to make sense: a) Burton is Siobhan’s elderly stepfather and b) Kimmy is a nice, horse-obsessed girl whose horse Emma and Siobhan rode without permission late one night for reasons you’ll have to read the book to find out.
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There she is, tagged as Skank in a photo with Ian Heath, and with four other guys in five different photos from five different parties I didn’t attend.
Her face is frozen in steely expressionlessness.
I say, “Who would do that? Who would be that stupid?”
She says, “Really? How about Chelsea and Lia and Mel and everybody else who goes to Latimer except for you because you weren’t at these stupid parties looking out for me so you couldn’t have taken the pictures. Plus, you know I’d burn you and you’re not that stupid. Jesus. Not that I care, but does she really think she can mess with me? So. Not. Happening.”
The operative question being, who is she? We spend the rest of the afternoon looking through party pictures. Lia missed one, leaving Chelsea and Mel as prime suspects. And part of Chelsea is in one of the offending pictures, leaving Mel snapping the shutter.
I want to say, what about what we did to Kimmy? What about the girl who wanted to be lacrosse co-captain whose arm you almost severed during practice? What about boys you dis at lunch although, admittedly, they seem to like it?
I say “What do you have in mind?
Siobhan says there are bars in Van Nuys where you can hire a hit man, but it turns out she got this particular tidbit of L.A. lore from a late-night cop show she had on as background noise when she was trying to fall asleep. Also, she’s joking.
“A note,” she says. “Mel: any day could be your last. Take today. How’s that?”
“That sounds like you’re threatening her.”
“I am threatening her.”
I say, “Like a terrorist threat kind of threatening her. The illegal kind.”
“Perfect, anonymous terror. I stick it in her car and voila!”
We’re back in Siobhan’s Jacuzzi, our go-to spot for major distress, leaning back against the fake stone grotto studded with smooth chunks of blue and green glass, breathing in chlorinated steam.
“How about a note that she can’t use to take you down with her and get you locked in jail for?”
We settle on stapling a copy of the Latimer School zero tolerance cyber-bullying code (which says, basically, if they catch you, you go to school somewhere else the next day) to the printed-out tagged photos, and slipping it into her car. We debate whether the note should say, “Do you like going to school here?” which contains a teensy element of threat versus a simple “Gotcha,” which doesn’t.
“Pact!” Siobhan says. “Pact, pact, pact.” She is energized and quite happy.
I stand guard while she slides into the parking lot with the metal thing Burton uses to jimmy open cars he locks the keys into. (Burton collects cars he couldn’t afford in his youth, when he was somewhat rich, but not this rich.)
I lurk at the edge of the student parking lot, pretending to look through my backpack, performing for an imaginary audience. There is no alarm, no scuffle, no accidental witness. We head off to the student lounge to eat Junior Mints and gloat.
“Surprise, surprise,” Siobhan says. “Look.”
I look back at Mel’s old Range Rover, and all along the passenger side door, there is a deep, jagged scar.
I grab Siobhan and pull her toward the closest ladies’ room that has hiding out potential. I say, “This was not the plan!”
“This is better. What can she do about it? Nothing. She takes me down, I take her down.”
“You can’t key cars! Are you kidding me? You get this, right?”
“You weren’t all, Oooooh Siobhan, you can’t do this, when you were the one getting messed with and we played cowgirl with Kimmy’s horse. Don’t you go all Good Emma on me.”
“This is keying a car. Do you not get the subtle difference?”
“Don’t talk to me like that! I’m not stupid!”
I think of cop shows where you learn the kid on guard outside the Seven-Eleven is as guilty as the scary, tattooed guy who blows away the cashier inside.
I try to think about something else.
It doesn’t work.
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About The Tour
Giveaway Prize Includes: A hardcover copy of Afterparty, Emma’s contraband Sephora make-up, Emma’s Kate Spade make-up bag, Emma’s Bob Marley t-shirt, Emma’s vintage mother-of-pearl barrette, Emma’s cat’s eyes sun glasses, Emma’s ice blue nail polish, The sparkly hair pins Dylan pulls out of Emma’s hair, Dylan’s Kurt Cobain t-shirt, Siobhan’s gold nail polish, Mara’s Bakelite-style orange bracelet (+ two more), Mara’s (tiny) Felix-the-Cat ring, & An Afterparty tote bag.