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!
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:
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-
“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!
And now... enter to win some great prizes from Sarah!
a Rafflecopter giveaway
CREEPY!!! But awesome! Can't wait to get my hands on a copy!
And now... enter to win some great prizes from Sarah!
a Rafflecopter giveaway
