Blurb:
The dark water of the Hudson River isn’t the only blackness looming in the distance of the quaint river town
of Sleepy Hollow. Two hundred years of secrets and lies are bleeding into the present, and high school seniors, Hunter Morrissey and Rowen Corbett, find themselves linked with unseen forces shrouded in mystery and violence.Truths, buried and long forgotten, have risen at a time when the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest. Only Hunter and Rowen hold the key to locking the past in the past, and setting old wrongs to right. Can justice be served? Can the two find a way to straddle both worlds and solve the mystery when they don’t understand the clues?
Inspired by historical events that surround the village of Sleepy Hollow and the famous legend that shares its name, this Young Adult Horror takes you on a journey full of history and suspense with a splash of romance and the paranormal.
Buy Links:
Amazon ~ Barnes&Noble ~ iTunes
Excerpt (Chapter 1):
The alarm
clock buzzed, its repetitive blare piercing what was left of my sleep. I opened
my eyes half way and peered at the red digital numbers staring back at me
through dim light. With a groan, I slammed my hand on the clock’s hard plastic
top, hoping to hit the snooze button and not the volume. Closing my eyes, I
rolled over tucking one hand under my pillow and the other under my chin. But
it was too late. My conscience was wide awake and already sparring with itself.
Get up! You’re going to be late again. No, I won’t, just five more
minutes...
“Rowen!
It’s six-thirty!‛ my mother’s voice shot from the hall.
Five
minutes. Just five more minutes.
“Rowen!”
“I heard
you the first time!‛ I yelled at my closed bedroom door. Why did morning have
to come so early and be so loud? I groaned again. If I didn’t get out of bed
soon, she’d come upstairs looking for me, and that was the last thing I wanted.
Yawning, I
reached over my head and stretched, arching my back to let the blood flow into
my resting muscles like a reveille call. Up and at ‘em, troops!
My mother
was up early, even by her standards. I wasn’t surprised, though. It was that
time of year again. The time when our little shop, The Silver Cauldron,
became the town headquarters for spells and charmed candles and, of course,
witches brew. The season when the quaint river town of Sleepy Hollow
transformed into a mecca for all things creepy.
With my
crazy mother organizing everything from the kids ragamuffin parade to the
annual costume ball, there was never a spare minute to think or breathe. On top
of everything else, she took over as coordinator for this year’s Blaze—over
4,000 hand carved jack-o-lanterns lining the historic three hundred-year-old
Van Cortlandt estate. It was no wonder I didn’t want to get up. I was exhausted
just being her daughter. My mother, Laura Corbett, was Sleepy Hollow’s unofficial
official town witch, and in a place where everyone knows everyone, that’s
saying a lot.
‚It’s just
Halloween,‛ I mumbled flipping my covers back, but in our house it was never just
Halloween, nor was it ever just about trick-or-treating. It was the Witch’s
New Year and one of the biggest sabbats on the wheel of the year. Not that I
believed in that sort of junk. That was my family’s thing, not mine, even
though my mother and grandmother had been trying to make it mine since the day
I was born.
I swung my
legs over the side of the bed and sat for a moment. I’d heard it a thousand
times, “We’re different, Rowen, embrace it. People would kill to be able to do
what we can.‛ Like people needed more reasons to think I was half a freak. And
as to wanting to be like me, uh… I didn’t think so.
“Rowen,
hurry up! I need to talk to you before you leave,‛ Mom’s voice called again.
My room
looked like a tornado hit. Clothes and shoes everywhere, and the books and math
sheets I reviewed last night were still in a haphazard pile across my desk. Two
empty Coke cans topped a pile of candy wrappers, and a large, half eaten bag of
potato chips lay crumpled on the floor next to my backpack.
Oh God,
I didn’t.
At the
incriminating sight, my hand shifted to my stomach, and a familiar
self-loathing settled onto my shoulders. I slumped a bit, cringing inwardly at
what the scale would read this morning.
With a
sigh I pushed myself to stand and slid my gaze to the clothes I somehow
remembered to set out. My lateness was reaching epic proportions, yet school
was only halfway through the first semester. Most of the student body had
learned to get out of the way when I came barreling in for homeroom.
Mom seemed
to think my tardy nature would improve once I earned my driver’s license, but
of course, that didn’t happen. I was seventeen and already driving for the past
year. We lived around the corner from the high school, and senior privilege or
not, I didn’t relish the idea of taking my mother’s minivan.
Grabbing
my outfit from the back of my desk chair, I walked into the bathroom and
snapped on the light. I had no problem envisioning my mother, coffee cup in
hand, impatiently waiting for me to come downstairs while she planned her
latest concoction for the store.
When my
mother says she needs to talk it usually means extra work for me, and
considering how busy it’s been I’m surprised it took her this long to ask. Not
that I mind helping out at the shop with all its curiosities, but I can’t seem
to stomach the people who come in just to gawk. Of course, the townspeople
wouldn’t dare insult my mother that way, but the tourists loved to look at the
whole lot, including us.
I took
inventory of my face in the mirror, running fingers over the puffy skin beneath
my eyes, trying to ignore the glare from the bathroom’s overhead lights.
Telltale dark smudges from my late date with calculus were evident beneath my
lower lids, making my hazel eyes look a little muddy. ‚Now, that’s attractive,‛
I grumbled reaching for my makeup remover. Giving each eye a quick swipe, I
checked my reflection for any marked improvement. No such luck.
Most of
the time, I liked the way I looked. From the dark curls and high cheekbones I
inherited from my dad, to winning the genetic lottery for great skin courtesy
of mother’s side of the family. Most of my friends hated that I never got zits
or blemishes, but Mother Nature evened the playing field, seeing to it I gained
weight if I so much as looked at junk food.
I muttered
an expletive thinking about the bag of chips I’d massacred and pushed the bathroom
scale under the vanity with my foot. One of these days I’d learn not to let the
number glaring up at me from between my feet dictate the kind of day I would
have, but today was not that day.
The
Corbett’s tended to be on the fleshy side, or at least that’s what it looked
like in all the family pictures. I wouldn’t know firsthand, though, my dad
having died when I was little, and his parents before I was born. Then again,
having a mother who leaned more toward the vegetarian line helped a lot in that
department.
Gathering
my hair, I twisted it into a loose bun at the top of my head. There was a
peculiar tension building in my stomach, and I didn’t think it was the potato
chips. I was out of sorts, restless for some reason, and a dull ache throbbed
behind my eyes. I grabbed my toothbrush and turned on the tap, breaking one of
the cardinal rules of my house by letting the water run while I brushed my
teeth.
A calculus
test was scheduled later this morning, but I was never one for being neurotic
over grades. So why was I so edgy? I rinsed my mouth and stuck the toothbrush
in its holder. The blunt pounding behind my eyes escalated and I winced,
tilting my head down against the pain. That was when I saw it, or thought I saw
it.
I stood
motionless with my hand frozen in place as I stared at the water in the sink.
The slow drain had allowed the flow to gather in the basin and ribbons of red
curled and spread like blood streaming into the water. It didn’t look like rust
or red clay or anything else. It looked like blood, swirling and coating the
white porcelain with streaks and tiny clots. Worse yet, it smelled like blood,
with a sharp, metallic tang that lingered in my nose and throat. I gagged,
squeezing my eyes shut.
A wave of
dizziness hit and I gripped the edge of the vanity, sucking in short shallow
breaths trying to work up enough air to yell for my mother. I swallowed against
the sour bile taste in my mouth and counted to ten, and when I opened my eyes,
only clear water flowed in the sink.
My hand
shot forward turning off the tap, and I pumped the lever handle behind the
faucet a bunch of times. I held my breath ‘til the last of the water ran down
the drain. Did I say half a freak? How about a full-fledged weirdo, complete
with psychotic visions? Backing up, I grabbed hold of the towel rack and
sank to the floor, the cold tile adding to my already goose-pimpled flesh.
Minutes
passed and though my heart rate slowed, my mind raced. Was this some leftover
nightmare skewed from Chiller TV? Part of me wanted to yell for my mother, but
the other part knew she’d make a huge deal about it, and I didn’t have time for
a protection spell or whatever else she’d think to do.
The clock
was ticking, and I needed to get myself together and out the door. Afraid to
tempt fate and run the water in the sink again, I wet a washcloth under the
bathtub tap. ‚No more sleep deprived delusions for me, thank you.‛
The
problem was this didn’t feel like a byproduct of too little sleep. Something
happened, I sensed it. Gran told me the night of my birthday that my aura was
bleeding. Happy birthday, darling, and by the way… Gee, thanks. Love you
too, Gran.
That night
my mother made light of it, telling me everyone’s aura bled from time to time,
it’s part of coming into your own—yet I hadn’t missed the look she shot my
grandmother. And what the hell did that mean? Was I coming into my own as a
strong, independent woman, or did some weird, cosmic witchiness hit me square
in the face courtesy of my messed up gene pool? Right now, I didn’t want to
know. I wanted to go to school and take my exams like any other normal
teenager.
After
slapping on deodorant and body mist, I dressed, not bothering with make-up. I
unfastened my claw clip and finger combed my hair before throwing it back into
a messy bun, then grabbed my homework and shoved it into my bag. I allowed one
last look in the mirror, hesitating about the no make-up, but no amount of
cover-up would camouflage my fear-induced, chalk-white cheeks. Instead, I
plastered a smile onto my face and headed downstairs, praying my mother’s
instincts would be too preoccupied to notice.
The
blissful aroma of fresh brewed coffee filtered from the kitchen, making my
mouth water before I walked through the doorway. Even more sublime, the scent
of homemade pumpkin bread floated alongside the smell of fresh ground walnuts. ‚Hey,‛
I mumbled, scraping one of the chairs back from the table. ‚Smells good. You
had time to bake this morning?‛
‚I know
how much you like pumpkin bread, so why not,‛ my mother answered, putting a
warm slice in front of me. ‚I thought it’d be nice for us to have a treat
together, especially since I’ve been so busy lately and haven’t been around
much.‛
She
thought right, and I took my first easy breath of the morning. ‚Mmmmmm,
incredible,‛ I said with my mouth full.
Reaching
for her mug on the counter, she patted my shoulder and I cringed. The moment
she touched me she’d know something was up. On cue she jerked her head around,
eyes already probing.
I exhaled.
‚Cut it out, Mom, come on. I’m tired, that’s all.‛ I shrugged her off
purposefully, but she wasn’t buying it. ‚I’ve got a huge math test today, and
calc’s been kicking my butt since the beginning of the year, so can we not do
the Wicked Witch of Westchester County thing this morning?”
Taking a
deep breath, my mother looked at me the way she looks at her rune stones when
trying to divine a hidden meaning. ‚Okay, Rowen, if you say so. But whatever it
was you saw…‛
“I know,
Mom, relax. Like I said, I’m just tired. Didn’t you have something you needed
to talk about? It must be important or why else would you need to bribe me,‛ I
said, waving my pumpkin bread her way before plopping another piece into my
mouth.
My mother
flashed me a half smile, knowing I’d used one of her trademark moves usually
reserved for arguments with Gran. ‚You’re right, but I think I could do better
than pumpkin bread if I wanted to bribe you. Truth is, with New Year’s a little
less than two weeks away, the store is going to get crazy the closer it gets,
and with everything I’ve got going I could really use your help.”
“It’s
October, Mother. New Year’s isn’t for two months.”
“You know
what I mean, smart ass, Samhain is next week. And in case you’ve
forgotten, Halloween is a fire sabbat that requires a ritual cleansing to
protect the town and honor the wandering dead.”
“Yeah, but
jack-o-lanterns? Seriously?”
“Pumpkins
are the easiest way to get everyone to participate without them really knowing.
Unfortunately, they aren’t going to carve themselves, and we’re short of
volunteers.‛
“I know,‛
I said taking another bite of my pumpkin bread. ‚Don’t worry, I’ll do my part
until every last jack-o-lantern is carved and placed.‛ I wondered what the
prissy town supervisor’s wife would say if she knew my mother had orchestrated
a pagan ritual involving the entire town right under her pious nose.
As if
reading my mind, Mom smirked. ‚I knew I could count on you, Rowen, but do me a
favor. Don’t be such a teenager this week. The veil between the living and the
dead is at its thinnest. I want you to pay attention, okay?”
I nodded, and she gave me a smile, but for the first
time in my life my mother’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Guest Blog:
The Importance of World Building and Character Development
Most people live ordinary lives. They have a network of friends
and family about them that help make them who and what they are. They have
daily routines and conflicts that come up from time to time that they have to
overcome. So why would it be any different for characters in a book?
With the exception of the word ‘ordinary’, developing your
character and their lives and loves is important in order to paint a picture
for the reader. What makes this character who they are, where they’ve been and
where they are going? It’s necessary to show the reader what is happening in
the point of view of the character speaking rather than tell them. A reader has
to feel like it’s really happening, they have to be able to imagine and sense
everything the characters feel, see and sense. The way an author accomplishes
that is through rich description and to the point dialogue.
This is all part of world building, giving the reader a birdseye
view of the character’s life and surroundings…enmeshing them right in the thick
of their conflicts and how they go about making choices and finding their
resolutions. Good world building, description and dialogue are what allow the
reader to get lost in a book…it’s what brings the characters to life in their
imagination and where hopefully, they linger while anticipating the next book
in the series. J
The places and events in my stories are always born of personal
experience. (Paranormal relationships notwithstanding!) My usual haunts—New
York, New Orleans, Maine, Montreal—are featured heavily since they are the
places I love the most. I also love to travel, and many of the places I’ve been
lend their flavor to the stories as well. But if it’s something unfamiliar, a
topic or procedure, etc., I will contact experts in the field and pepper them
with questions, or scour books on the subject. These are essential elements
when world building. You have to write what you know or you will be spotted as
a fake.
I’d have to say my favorite part of writing and world building
is falling in love with my characters. They inspire me in so many ways. And
while I know that each one of them is just an extension of me, it’s great to be
able to live a hidden part of myself out loud through them. It’s truly their
gift. But, on the flip side, what I enjoy least about writing is the mechanics
of it…all the editing and fact checking and so on. Necessary…absolutely.
Fun…not so much. All in all I think of myself as lucky…I get to do what I love
for a living, so it never really ‘feels’ like work.
About the Author:
I'm a New Yorker, born and bred, and for the most part my stories and my characters embody the grit and complexity of the city. An avid traveler, I use my experiences from around the world in all my books. There
Like most authors, my love affair with the written word started as a child with the books I read. Even today, I love to read almost as much as I love to write. My favorite stories are the ones that transport me, that bring me to places and introduce me to characters that leave me breathless...the ones that spark the fire of my imagination, allowing me to dream in the world of 'what if?'
I've always been a scribbler, and from the time I could write my name I've been making up stories. So it was no surprise when I earned degrees in both Journalism and Fine Art, but after working in the trenches of Madison Avenue as a Graphic Artist, I decided to do what I love most full time. Write.
In the meantime I am also a founding member and former President of The Paranormal Romance Guild, a not-for-profit organization for readers and authors of the genre...and when I'm not 'bichok' (but in a chair hands on keyboard), I'm spending time with my husband and our three kids, traveling to exciting, romantic places ...for inspiration, of course!
Where to Stalk Marianne:
Tour Schedule:
October 21 Spotlight - 3 Partners in Shopping, Nana, Mommy,
& Sissy, Too
October 22 Guest blog - Urban Fantasy Investigations
October 22 Spotlight and review - The Insane Ramblings of a Crazed
Writer,
October 23 Interview and review - happy tails and tales
October 23 review - Nicky Peacock Author
October 24 Guest blog and
review - Books to Get Lost In
October 24 Spotlight - Sapphyria's Book Reviews
October 25 Guest blog - Fang-tastic Books
October 28 Spotlight - fuonlyknew
October 28 review - Black Words-White Pages Teen/Young
Adult
October 29 Interview - Fantasy Book Addict
October 29 Spotlight - Book Suburbia
October 29 Spotlight - Beverly @ The Wormhole
October 30 Guest blog - Ebook Escapes
October 30 Spotlight - Lis Les Livres
October 30 review - Book Reviews
October 31 Guest blog - Mythical Books
October 31 Spotlight - Jody's Book Reviews, Giveaways &
Tours
November 1 Guest blog - Dalene’s Book Reviews
November 1 review - Doing Dewey
November 1 Spotlight - Ramblings of a Book Lunatic
November 4 Interview - The Simple Things in Life
November 4 Spotlight and review - Sunshine & Mountain Book Reviews
Meagan's Review:
Okay so next to Christmas I think Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. And it's not the whole dressing up in costumes or eating candy (while both of those are good) but for me it's the history and legends. Scary stories and the Headless Horseman and Sleepy Hallow and all of that stuff fascinate me. It might be why I loved the Disney version of the Headless Horseman and why I love the new t.v. show Sleepy Hallow so much. The lore behind it all and history gives it the perfect edge for Halloween. And knowing all of that might be why I liked this book as much as I did. I mean who doesn't love a book with the title of Hallow's End? Especially in October this close to Halloween?? Not very many people.
And let me say this book did not disappoint. This book is like Disney Sleepy Hallow in Young Adult form. It's a super quick and easy read and well worth it. So much detail and time went into this book and the research to make it what it is. And the characters were amazing. I loved every moment of Hunter and Rowen. I just fell in love with their characters and wanted to know what was going to happen in their lives. Good, bad everything.
This review is hard to write because I mean most people know the story of Sleepy Hallow. However, this book changed my opinion of the Disney version of that, but it was so good. The problem is I don't want to give too much away because this book is a good read and I want you to enjoy every moment of it. This book had a shock factor to it, which only made it better. I had a few OMG did that really just happen? and some awww...moments and just some pure awesome moments.
I'm so excited and ready for the next book. I need more. I want to know what is going to happen next. I would definitely recommend this book especially with Halloween right around the corner. So make sure to go get your copy.
Soul Fire
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