Good Monday morning folks. Welcome back to the Meet My Character Monday Blog Hop. Today I want to introduce you to Avery, another character from my upcoming suspense/thriller HIM. Avery is one of the main characters in HIM. He is sixteen years old and is Amy’s little brother.
Avery is your typical teenage boy, playing sports, hanging with his friends, and grossing out his sister. In the very first scene in the novel, we see him acting out and trying to aggravate his mother, sister, and cousin.
“I can swim this,” Avery, my little brother, said in a defiant tone to our cousin Jake. The two boys were leaning against the railing of the ferry, pretending to calculate the distance between Little Paw, our grandfather’s island, which lay in front of us, and Yellow Head, a town on the mainland of South Carolina’s southern coast just north of Tybee National Wildlife Refuge, which lay behind us.
“No, you couldn’t,” Jake countered. “It’s nearly two miles from dock to dock. You’d never make it.”
“I bet I could. You couldn’t though,” Avery bated him, then hawked up a wad of spit and let it slowly drip from his mouth to the water.
The most important thing to know about Avery is that when push comes to shove, he has his sister’s back. The following scene shows that he willingly puts himself between Amy and her abuser, and takes Amy’s side over his mother’s, the person who should believe Amy, but doesn’t.
I moved my chair out a little more. As I started to rise, my brother stood up in front of me. Even though Avery was two years younger than I was, he was taller and bigger. He moved in front of me, blocking me from his view if he happened to look our way.
“Avery?” Mom asked, watching him. His protective action baffled her.
“We’re leaving, mother,” he said through gritted teeth.
By protecting his sister though, he does put himself in harm’s way a number of times. At the end of the novel, he takes a few blows to the head while trying to keep his uncle away from his sister.
I heard Avery call Shane’s name, then mine, then I jerked my head in his direction in time to see my little brother hit the ground. Shocked, I lunged for my brother, turned him around, and saw a massive gash leaking blood across his forehead.
“He’ll live,” he said from behind me where Shane lay. I turned to see him kneeling over Shane, gun pointed at his head. “Get up, and go inside.”
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