Compulsion by Martina BooneCompulsion by Martina Boone

Compulsion

byMartina Boone

Hardcover | August 11, 2016

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Beautiful Creatures meets The Body Finder in Compulsion, the first novel in a spellbinding new trilogy.

All her life, Barrie Watson has been a virtual prisoner in the house where she lived with her shut-in mother. When her mother dies, Barrie promises to put some mileage on her stiletto heels. But she finds a new kind of prison at her aunt’s South Carolina plantation instead—a prison guarded by an ancient spirit who long ago cursed one of the three founding families of Watson Island and gave the others magical gifts that became compulsions.

Stuck with the ghosts of a generations-old feud and hunted by forces she cannot see, Barrie must find a way to break free of the family legacy. With the help of sun-kissed Eight Beaufort, who knows what Barrie wants before she knows herself, the last Watson heir starts to unravel her family’s twisted secrets. What she finds is dangerous: a love she never expected, a river that turns to fire at midnight, a gorgeous cousin who isn’t what she seems, and very real enemies who want both Eight and Barrie dead.
Title:CompulsionFormat:HardcoverDimensions:448 pages, 8.25 × 5.5 × 1.3 inPublished:August 11, 2016Publisher:Simon PulseLanguage:English

The following ISBNs are associated with this title:

ISBN - 10:1481411225

ISBN - 13:9781481411226

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Reviews

Rated 4 out of 5 by from God I wish the ideas where better portrayed but it was still a good but to read
Date published: 2017-02-26
Rated 3 out of 5 by from Good but not great. I love the concept and the setting but it was missing something for me. Perhaps it was the style of writing? I can't really put my finger on it. I purchased the second and third book but haven't read them yet. The fact that I didn't jump to the second book right away tells me that I am not as excited about this series as I have been for others. I will read the next two books because I think it has potential and I love the world that the author created. Hopefully I am pleasantly surprised.
Date published: 2017-01-17
Rated 5 out of 5 by from SOOOOO GOOD! SOOOO GOOD. Compulsion had just the right amount of spooky/creepy & romance. I also cried at the end. Probably the PMS. Or maybe I just fell in love with Marks character. r.i.p.
Date published: 2016-12-31
Rated 4 out of 5 by from Lovely Book This was a lovely book. I'm not sure what, exactly, made it so lovely. It just was. Maybe it was Barrie. She was a really determined, sweet heroine. It was great how she had anxiety and panic attacks but it was never made into her defining character trait. She was really sweet about working to develop her relationships and stick close to the people she loves. It made her really endearing as a character. There was also a certain measure of vulnerability about her that had the same effect. I'm not sure if it was the setting. While there were times when it felt lush and atmospheric, there were other times when they could have been anywhere, and I was actually confused as to where exactly they were. Points off for this. It may have been the romance. Yes, there was an element of insta-love, but it was just so sweet and heartfelt and something I can really relate to (all her struggles over whether or not it is worth it to start a relationship when you know you're gonna be separated soon) that I could forgive the insta-love. Also, I really liked how the supernatural elements were incorporated. They weren't overwhelming, nor were they overdramatized. What you thought was scary or malevolent turned out not to be. Overall, a really solid first book, and I will for sure be reading its sequel.
Date published: 2016-12-17
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Excellent Great plot line, Awesome finish lookinf forward to the next 2 books in the series
Date published: 2016-11-15
Rated 4 out of 5 by from Definitely my new favourite series! Compulsion is a Southern Gothic novel that has supernatural powers, ghosts, an ancient family feud, a curse, a hot boy AND no love triangle. So really, what isn’t there to love? Let me tell you: there is nothing about the book that I didn’t love. This is definitely going on my favourites shelf (also fall 2015 is way too far away. I need Persuasion, the sequel, like, yesterday). When I first read the synopsis for this book, I was immediately intrigued. The synopsis gives you an idea about what’s going on, but it doesn’t really give you a full picture. That’s the thing with Compulsion. There’s just so much going on. But here, unlike other books, everything fits together. Nothing that happens is random (for example, Barrie losing her phone. You wouldn’t think it was anything special to it, right? Wrong. It’s a somewhat important event.) This, to me, is a sign of awesome storytelling on Martina Boone’s part. Everything was well-timed and nothing was explained too soon or too late. Certain information is told only to keep the reader un-confused with the story, but it isn’t enough to answer the question, so it makes you want to read more. I had family over while I was reading this and I was seriously considering ditching them to finish it. It was all just so intriguing and awesome and I adored every page of it. The storytelling and the writing of Compulsion is beautiful and seamless. Everything fit properly into place - though there were some parts that were a little bit difficult to understand, that I had to re-read a few times to get what was happening. But those moments were few and far in between. Next up are the characters. Barrie, Eight, Mark, Cassie, Pru, Mary, Wyatt even Lula, who isn’t alive when the book starts… they’re all just so well-written. They were so vivid. I could see them clearly in my head while I was reading, and I almost felt like I was right there with them. They each had their own individual personality, their own way of behaving, of speaking. It’s been a while since I’ve read characters so fleshed-out. Wyatt creeped the bejeezus out of me, my opinion of Cassie fluctuated with Barrie’s (though now I just plain hate her). I loved Mark. He was probably one of my favourite characters and hopefully Martina Boone finds a way to write him into the sequel because I just need more Mark. And don’t even get me started on Eight. He is so close to replacing Noah Shaw and Ronan Lynch in my heart - which are hard shoes to fill. Basically, the characters were all wonderful. They added to the story and worked symbiotically with it, making Compulsion a book that just works so well. For a debut author, I’m pretty impressed with this one. However, nothing in this world is perfect. The ending to me was a bit forced. The whole thing with Wyatt’s drug cartel kind of came up too fast. Maybe I just didn’t notice any earlier, but I feel like there just wasn’t any build-up to that discovery, so the five or so pages that dealt with it just didn’t seem important to me because I was just like… where did this come from? Other than this minor complaint, everything about this book is perfect. So, if you’re into Southern Gothic paranormal novels à la Beautiful Creatures but even better (and even if you’re not - give it a try, you might be surprised), I highly suggest you check out Compulsion by Martina Boone. You really will be glad that you do.
Date published: 2015-03-09
Rated 4 out of 5 by from It doesn't matter how great your shoes are if you don't accomplish anything in them. I had first heard about Compulsion on Twitter from all my blogger friends, they had all gotten ARCs and adored the book. Obviously it peaked my interest, so I looked into the book and author some more! Martina is a blogger for YA books as well as an author! She first started blogging on a site called Adventures in YA Publishing, then moved on to blog at other sites as well! Anyhow the summery for Compulsion made me just as excited to read the book as I did finding out about Martina being a blogger! I loved the summery of Compulsion, I've always been a paranormal/ fantasy type girl. The book stuck almost directly to it and had so much more to offer! I was so intrigued with the Fire Carrier and the yunwi, I just had to know more about them! The folklore behind the yunwi is fascinating, I hope we learn a lot more about them in the next upcoming books! The characters in Compulsion were all imperfect in their own ways, you could easily related to their personalities. Barrie's stubbornness, Eight's need to make everyone happy, and Cassie's need to be better then everyone else. Most people can relate to at least two of the three, I know I can anyhow! Most of the time when someone reads a book the book takes place in a town or city that the reader doesn't live close too or hasn't visited before, so they just except the description of the place without a second thought. I was lucky to have been able to actually read Compulsion while I was in Charleston, SC. While in Charleston I was able to visit a Plantation like the Watson Plantation, we visited the Magnolia Plantation so I was able to fully picture how Watson Landing looked. The way Martina described Watson Landing, was almost the exact same as the Magnolia Plantation, it was a pretty amazing feeling to actually know how a setting looks in real life. I highly recommend visiting a setting you hold dear to you from a book setting. It made Compulsion that much more of an entertaining read. Overall I very much enjoyed Compulsion, I only had one problem with it. I kept having this nagging feeling that the book needed something extra, like perhaps an extra hook to pull you in. Compulsion was full of new and unexplored adventures, and a marvellous read. I can not wait for Persuasion, the sequel to Compulsion to come out! I've already read the summery and I am practically dying to get a copy in the hands! Persuasion releases October 28th, 2015.
Date published: 2014-12-07
Rated 5 out of 5 by from Review from Swept Away By Books Martina Boone has set up what is sure to be an extremely intriguing trilogy with Compulsion. Within the first few pages, the reader is immersed in her gorgeous ability to create a setting as well as throwing us into a house full of dark family secrets. One of my favourite parts of this book was the plantation, Watson's Landing. Set in South Carolina, the creeping spanish moss, meandering river, and acres of encroaching forest, the setting really comes alive for the reader. But the house itself becomes a character that draws you in and makes you want to curl up in the dusty corners and simply experience what it has to offer. From closed off wings with eerie vibes, to spirits who are methodically taking the house apart, to sprawling gardens that are always kept in mysteriously pristine conditions to a river lit with fire every night, I was completely enamoured with Watson's Landing. The house has so much to offer, and Barrie finds it impossible to resist the chance to dig up some of it's secrets. What I wasn't expecting was the Native American mythology. It was such an intriguing surprise. It added an extra layer to the mystery, and created an amazing backstory for gifts (some would say curses) that the three founding families, The Watsons, The Beauforts and The Colesworths, have. What is so so unique about Compulsion are these gifts and I am so excited for everyone to read it because they are incredibly different and nothing I have ever seen in YA before. The generations old family feud stems from these curse and was creepy and fascinating and caused some people to do terrible things throughout the years. Barrie herself was a little frustrating to me, but that's one of the things I loved about her. She grew up extremely sheltered by her mother, and it really shows in her naivete towards certain aspects of life. She really struggles with how she views people, and her opinions are flip flopping all over the place, but Martina stayed very true to a character who wouldn't know any better in certain situations. Her relationship with the dreamy Eight Beaufort was tension filled and as steamy as a Southern night and was just freaking adorable. Boone's supporting characters were far from perfect but a blast to read. Aunt Pru has to be my favourite, and I am so excited to see and learn more about her in the upcoming books. Barrie's godfather Mark was brilliant and shone through the pages. But the most interesting of them all was Barrie's cousin on the Colesworth side, Cassie. There was just a little something off about her the whole time, and she was the perfect mix of sickly sweet with a menacing undertone. Compulsion was a brilliant first instalment in what is going to be an eerie and fascinating story about an ages old family feud, goose bump inducing ghosts, mythology and a girl struggling to discover who she really is now that she finally has the chance, all in a beautiful setting that is brought to life through Martina's deliciously descriptive writing, with a sweet and steamy romance included.
Date published: 2014-10-24

Read from the Book

Compulsion CHAPTER ONE The heat that crept into the airport baggage area whenever the door opened should have told Barrie Watson that she had arrived in hell. But it wasn’t the Charleston weather, or the fact that her mother’s sister, who she’d never even heard of before the funeral, was three hours late picking her up. Neither of those things kept Barrie’s butt glued on top of her suitcase and her eyes on the door. It was hope that kept her stuck, that stole her breath and made her eyes smart every time some likely looking woman rushed in and scanned the nearly empty area around the luggage carousels. Barrie hated hope. Too often, it was a Go Directly to Jail card that led to disappointment. The latest candidate through the door did seem promising, though. Blond. Midthirties. The mile-high heels of Barrie’s purple sandals left fresh dents in her suitcase as she leaned forward to search for some tug of recognition or family connection. But the woman ignored her and ran to embrace a man in madras shorts at carousel number two. Around Barrie, the walls tunneled in. The whole day, the whole week, had been hell, and now her chest was tight and her heart was racing. She sucked in a deep, calming breath. Then she wiped her palms on the thighs of her capris and got ready to redial the number the lawyer had given her for Watson’s Landing. Yet again. She nearly dropped the phone when it suddenly vibrated in her hand. For an instant, she couldn’t help but hope. The screen showed her godfather’s number, though. And now what? Mark would worry himself sick—sicker—if she told him Aunt Pru hadn’t come. Barrie couldn’t add to his worries. She had to be cheerful. She was going to be cheerful. “Hi, Mark!” she chirped. Great. Now she sounded like a demented cheerleader. “Don’t you ‘Hi, Mark’ me, Miss Thing. Do you know how long it’s been since your plane landed? Since when don’t you call when you’re supposed to?” Barrie’s eyes closed at the love in his voice. That rich timbre with its hint of a lisp was at the heart of her every memory: Mark making her laugh, soothing her, teasing her out of being afraid. With her eyes closed she could keep him closer, see him in the size-fourteen pumps and yellow dress he had worn to drop her at the airport that morning, see the strain in his red-lipstick smile and in the pallor of his dark brown skin as he’d pulled her in for one last hug. As he’d fussed over her. Waved to her. Sent her away. No. She wasn’t going to cry. Barrie was through with tears. Cradling the phone against her shoulder, she laid both palms flat against the suitcase and told him the literal truth: “I just this minute put my hands on my luggage.” Her voice cracked, but she pulled herself together. “How are you feeling? You’re not overdoing it, are you? Yelling at the movers? Flirting with them?” “No more than they deserve.” Mark’s smile was audible. “Now tell me everything, baby girl. Were you okay on the flight? No panic attacks? How’s your aunt Pru? Is she anything like Lula? Are you going to like her, do you think?” “You aren’t supposed to be worrying about me—” “Of course I’m going to worry. Now, what’s wrong? You don’t like it there. I can tell—” “You can’t tell a thing.” Barrie sat up indignantly. “I haven’t even seen the place. But I’ve got to go. Aunt Pru just got back with the car. I’ll have to call you later.” It was only a little lie. It slipped out without Barrie’s permission, but the weight of it settled around her shoulders when they’d said their good-byes. What if her aunt never came? Barrie couldn’t call Mark back and tell him she had lied. She refused to let that be one of the last conversations they ever got to have. All right. Fine. She would find the place by herself, and once she got there . . . No, she wouldn’t think of that just yet. Aunt Pru had to let her stay long enough to finish high school. That was all there was to it. There were no other relatives to take her in. The thought finally pushed Barrie to her feet. She wobbled briefly on the skyscraper sandals Mark had talked her into wearing that morning for extra confidence. Towing her luggage behind her, she stepped through the exit door into a curtain of humidity that made her long yet again for San Francisco. A dispatcher materialized beside her. “Cab, miss?” “Yes, please.” Barrie blew a wilting strand of blond curls from her eyes. The dispatcher waved a taxi to the curb. Barrie slid into the back while the driver loped around to stow her suitcases. The trunk slammed closed. The cab shook, and rocked again when the driver wedged himself behind the wheel. “So, where we goin’?” he asked, studying her in the rear-view mirror. “Watson Island.” “That’s a good hour, dependin’ on traffic.” His gaze slid from the three diamond-encrusted keys on Barrie’s necklace to the oversize gold watch Mark had slipped onto her wrist that morning. Once he had finally decided she was good for the fare, the driver nodded. “You have an address?” he asked. “Watson’s Landing Plantation.” Barrie hated the heat that crawled up her cheeks. “Just go to the island. I can find it.” That was one thing Barrie could always count on. Finding things was the Watson gift. Barrie could find anything—had to find it, really—and the pressure that built in her head whenever she was near something lost had seemed stronger since her mother’s death. Even now, an object on the floor of the taxi tugged at her attention, squeezing her temples in a rapidly increasing ache. The driver lurched out into traffic. Barrie bent and groped under his seat until she freed something small and round from beneath the rails. A wedding ring. The gold was cool against her fingers and scratched thin from years of wear. “Excuse me.” She tapped the driver on his shoulder. “Is this yours?” He turned and a grin split his face. “I thought I’d never see that again. Lord, thank you. Thank you.” Barrie dropped the ring into his palm and sighed at the familiar click in her head, like a puzzle piece snapping into place. The pressure vanished. The cab gathered speed. Barrie rested her cheek against the window. Miles of sky and saltwater marsh sped past, interrupted by stands of pines swathed in palmetto skirts, and houses buffered by masses of pink and yellow flowers. Even in June, San Francisco cloaked itself in cool, protective layers of fog, but here the landscape overwhelmed her like the crowds at the airport. It was all too open, too bright, too much. She distracted herself from her nerves by imagining how she would paint the scenery—in bold, broad strokes with lots of white—and that made the time pass faster. Almost before she knew it, before she was ready, the cab drove over the bridge to Watson Island. “Can’t be long now,” the driver said. “There’s a signpost for the plantation there.” According to the arrows, the town of Watson’s Point was to the left and Watson’s Landing was to the right. The driver nosed the cab onto a road shadowed on both sides by trees dripping Spanish moss. They drove a few miles before crossing a shallow creek via a smaller, wooden bridge, and immediately a historical marker stood at the edge of a tall brick wall. About all Barrie caught was the word “Watson” before the cab moved past. “Wait. Stop!” The command came out louder than she’d intended, and her cheeks went warm again as the driver slammed on the brakes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Could you please back up?” The driver gave her a long-suffering look, but he backed the cab to the marker. Watson’s Landing Plantation was established in 1692 by a grant to Thomas Watson, captain of the privateer vessel Loyal Jamaica, and has remained in the Watson family without interruption. It is one of the oldest rice plantations on the Santisto River, and the original house, constructed of locally made brick, remains intact. Privateers and rice plantations. Wonderful. More details Lula had never bothered to share about their family. Barrie tucked her hands beneath her thighs to keep from rubbing Mark’s watch as if it were Aladdin’s lamp. The brick wall, too tall to see over, continued alongside the road as the cab drove on. Above it, expanses of sky alternated with oak and cypress woods until, after what must have been several miles, bursts of camellias and roses appeared, climbing over the top of the bricks as if trying to escape. The driver swung the cab into a driveway. A gold W hung in the center of the scrollwork above a closed black iron gate, and a plaque embedded in one of the brick end posts read: Private property. No trespassing. Gardens and Tearoom Open 1:00 p.m.– 6:00 p.m., Thurs to Sun Open. As in, to the public. The idea brought a slick of moisture to Barrie’s palms. Strangers walking around, peering in the windows . . . How could anyone live like that? “You sure this is where you want to go?” the driver asked. “Yes,” Barrie lied. The driver continued to watch her expectantly, as if there were something she was missing. Finally he said, “It’s closed Wednesdays.” Barrie stared at him another moment before realizing he meant that the gardens and tearoom were closed. What if there was no one to let her in? “I’ll go buzz the intercom,” she said with an inward sigh. She forced herself out of the cab and picked her way across the crushed oyster shells and gravel. Beyond the gate, a sunken lane ran between two rows of live oaks so old, their branches mingled overhead. Claws of light tore through the leaves and drapes of Spanish moss, creating mottled patches of shade on the ground. No house was visible. Barrie pressed the antiquated buzzer and steadied herself against the gatepost. The moment her skin made contact with the bricks, the Watson gift gave its familiar returning click, and she felt an easing of pressure, as if a headache she hadn’t even been aware of had suddenly released its grip. Yet she hadn’t returned anything. Nothing except herself, and she hadn’t been lost. She wasn’t even staying unless someone answered the stupid intercom. All right. Stay calm. Barrie gulped in another breath. She reached for the buzzer again, then paused. The gate was open half an inch. Had it been like that before? She gave it an experimental shove, and it slid across the driveway with a metallic screech. After waving the driver through, she closed the gate behind him and climbed back into the cab. Foot jiggling with nerves, she peered ahead while they crawled down the lane. The house emerged slowly from behind the violet-shadowed trees. Where at first there was only an impression of whitewashed bricks, fluted columns, and gabled roofs, once the taxi neared the end of the lane, the branches pulled back to reveal a beautifully proportioned mansion framed by blooming gardens. The lawn stretched to meet the woods and sloped gently toward a river where the sun reflected on tar-dark water. Barrie gasped. Not at the size, not at the age, not even at the fact of the plantation. What struck her most was how much the house reminded her of Lula’s house in San Francisco. “This is where my mother grew up,” she whispered, surprising herself. She’d never called Lula “mother,” not out loud. Lula had hated the word. But then, Lula had never told Barrie about Pru or Watson’s Landing, or anything at all, really, so to hell with what Lula’d wanted. “My mother died last week,” Barrie said, testing the sound of those words too. “I’m sorry.” The driver’s eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. Barrie nodded and looked away. The cab pulled up to the house and rolled to a stop behind an ancient Mercedes with a live albino peacock perched on the hood like some bizarre kind of ornament. The bird shrieked, flew down, and landed beside a woman seated on the steps. Purse clutched on her knees in a white-knuckle grip, the woman stared at Barrie. This had to be Lula’s sister. Lula’s twin. The woman resembled Barrie enough to make that clear. Unlike Barrie’s mother, though, she had no burn scars to hide behind a wig and veil. She wasn’t stooped in pain. She was pretty. Beautiful, almost. Was this what Lula would have looked like if fate had been kinder all those years ago? Barrie studied her aunt’s full cheeks, her neat triangular chin, the liquid play of emotions across her face. Slowly, she climbed out of the cab. “Aunt Pru?” Barrie asked. The woman struggled to her feet, scrubbing at eyes as gray as Barrie’s, as pale as Lula’s. She smoothed back her blond curls, and with her gaze locked on Barrie, she took a shaky step. That was as far as she got, as if she didn’t have the strength to descend the remaining stairs. “Barrie?” she asked. “Is that you?” Barrie ran a few steps, then stopped. A handshake seemed too formal, but she had never hugged anyone except for Mark, and a hug felt awkward when she and her aunt had never met. She clasped her hands behind her and licked her lips. “I kept trying to call you, but no one answered.” “I was on my way to get you.” Her aunt’s words trickled out like they weren’t in a hurry, a syllable at a time. “I—I was going to the airport. I just sat down a moment to catch my breath. . . .” Barrie glanced at her watch. “It’s four fifteen—” “Four fifteen?” Pru checked her own watch. “Oh, goodness. It is.” She sank back down on the step, wrapping her arms around herself as though she felt cold despite the afternoon heat. “You must have thought I’d abandoned you—” “No. It was fine,” Barrie cut in before her aunt could burst into tears. Of course it wasn’t fine. The problem wasn’t only that Pru hadn’t come for her. Something about her aunt, and the whole situation, was off. Pru’s clothes seemed more like what a teenage girl might have worn years ago, instead of a woman of thirty-six. The sundress was ironed stiff, as if Pru had taken trouble with it, but the pattern was so faded, Barrie couldn’t tell if the fruit on it had begun as apples or apricots. And Pru’s scuffed, old-fashioned Mary Janes would have made Mark groan. Overall the look was more can’t-afford-anything-new than vintage chic. In that, Barrie’s aunt matched the house. A shutter hung drunkenly on a nearby window like it was going to crash down at any moment. Paint peeled from one of the tall columns, and mortar had crumbled from between the bricks. Unlike the manicured gardens around it, the house looked neglected, as if no one cared enough to maintain it. The opposite of Lula’s obsession to have every room and knickknack perfect. The driver handed Barrie the charge slip to sign. “You sure you’re goin’ to be all right here, child?” He nodded his chin in her aunt’s direction and added softly, “I can still take you back. No trouble.” Barrie shook her head. Now that she was here, she couldn’t leave. Her aunt was undeniably strange, but Pru’s features added up to familiarity, to family. And the house, while run-down, was magnificent. It was Watson’s Landing. Lula’s history. Barrie’s own history. “I’m going to be fine here,” she said, as if determination could make that true.

Editorial Reviews

"Delivers a compelling mystery about feuding families and buried secrets, not to mention a steamy romance."