Cover Reveal: A Murder of Magpies by Sarah Bromley and Giveaway!

You guys, one of my favorite things to do as a blogger is support really awesome authors from my home town of St. Louis. I'm so lucky to get to do this! So this cover reveal (and the one earlier this week with Paula Stokes) is for one of our talented writers-- Sarah Bromley! She's such a sweetie, and I'm so glad I get to support her!
 Without further ado... THE COVER!

I absolutely love this cover-- it's creepy, and gives sort of a Poesque vibe. Very striking! But wait, we have more!! Sarah has been kind enough to give me a teaser to share with you all!

TEASER:

I glanced to my brother and father talking to Monsignor. That Jonah hadn’t chased off Ward was a tacit tolerance of him. “A few cuts. I’ll live.” I twisted my black hair, skimming my hips. “You hardly needed to play the white knight. Marty’s not much of a dragon, more like a salamander.”

“Maybe I like fighting salamanders.”

Chipped gray polish colored his nails, artsy in an I-don’t-give-a-damn-I’ll-wear-it-if-it’s-clean way. If Monsignor noticed, that’d earn Ward a detention or two.

“Listen, gadjo.” He didn’t deserve social devastation all because of my cavalier brother. He needed to back off from us. While he still could. “Marty won’t bother you if you don’t bother him. Tangling with him will never be forgotten.”

His mouth twitched, neither a grin nor a frown. “I don’t scare easily.”

He slipped on his headphones once more. Must be nice to be so untouched, unfazed. Must be peaceful.

“Hey,” I called. He lifted one side of his headphones. “What are you listening to?”

“Music.”

Smart ass.

Thud!

A chair had overturned in Monsignor’s office and rocked ever so slightly. A chair no one had been sitting in. Dad’s muffled voice came fast as he pulled Jonah by the arm. From the dark expression on his face, we were in for a major talking to.

“We need to leave. Now,” Dad said as he steered Jonah out of the office.

He whisked us past the sanctuary where our footfalls echoed on wood floors polished by nuns until glistening. The school was a dour extension off a century-old Catholic parish. The walls in the language arts wing were painted rich blue, the Virgin’s color. Hung between classrooms were carvings from the Stations of the Cross, thick with dust except for the Christ’s gaze, which followed us and knew my family’s secrets and sins.

Outside was better. Riding in the car, the windows lowered to allow in the fire-musk smell of October, but there was something else, an odor of things buried deep in the black earth. Dad steered into a parking lot by a grocery store. The heavy silence in the car made it impossible to push back the memory of the last time we pulled over like this. Instead of a parking lot, it’d been off a highway in a forest in northern Georgia and, with the haze of morning fog guarding the Chevy we’d escaped in, Dad had vowed we were going straight to Black Orchard, a town in Wisconsin near Canada. There, we would start over.

Find somewhere new. Claim different names.

Dad pushed his fingers through his black hair, streaked with silver, and set his eyes, the same green as mine, on my reflection in the rearview mirror. “This stops now. Your mama might’ve called what y’all do Mind Games sp. But I won’t play.”

“Yes, Sir,” Jonah and I answered.

 “Mind Games, if you must work them, are private. Working them in public is how your mama found trouble.” He twisted his wedding band. “We can’t risk a repeat of Georgia.”

I jerked my head to the view out the window. Black Orchard, Wisconsin. Easter egg-colored Victorian homes lined the streets, and people spoke with northern accents, which sounded friendly no matter what they said. But pretty towns and nice people could betray you.

CREEPY!!! But awesome! Can't wait to get my hands on a copy!

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