Congrats to Erin on the release of Blood Stitches. Check out this cover! If you love paranormal and urban fantasy then this book was written for you. Get it today!
Here's a little teaser~
In this scene, the main character, Gabby, remembers the night that changed her life forever.
Frank placed several split logs and kindling, along with crumpled newspaper, in the fireplace. On the mantel sat a family of four miniature dolls, knitted by Abuela and dressed in the traditional costume of Pueblo Hunab, her Mexican birthplace. A knitted tapestry of the Tree of Life stretched its branches and gnarled roots across the wall. Abuela had called it the soul of Mayan mythology, where heaven and hell intersected.
More knitted tapestries, all Esperanza’s and in every color imaginable, decorated the rest of the walls. One held a bird’s nest, feathers, and dragonfly wings, as if it were an opening to a mysterious land like Narnia or Middle-earth. Esperanza’s work hung in galleries from Albania to Zaire, but not a single gallery in Seattle carried her pieces. When asked why, she said, “My work is too folksy for Seattleites,” and changed the subject.
Frank rummaged through the knitted dolls. “Matches?”
I tossed him a box of matches sitting next to a pile of stationary on Esperanza’s writing desk and wandered to the window. Rain battered the streets. A little ghost, accompanied by two adults holding umbrellas, tottered down the sidewalk. He’d never make it to our house before his parents talked him into going home.
Halloween in Seattle. What could you do? Nothing, just like you couldn’t control an earthquake.
The memory of that night ten years ago came to me in streaky blurs. The earth yawned open. The second floor collapsed. Mamá and Papá disappeared. My world jumbled into a collage of broken house and shattered furniture with Esperanza, Abuela, and I wedged between ceiling and wall.
“Esperanza and I knit a story about light and fresh air,” Abuela said. “First we add special yarn.” She plucked strands of our hair and wrapped it around yarn.
I dozed to the music of needles clicking together as Esperanza and Abuela continued knitting afghans they’d managed to hold, as if by magic, throughout the quake. Firefighters discovered us two days later among the ruins and cut away the blankets forming skin-like cocoons around us. Abuela and Esperanza had knitted us to safety, weaving us into a story of survival.
Their fingers, though, hadn’t reached Mamá and Papá.
Of course, I asked tons of questions. Where had the yarn come from? Why hadn’t I felt thirsty or hungry? Esperanza and Abuela claimed I was delirious from a bump on my head. Over time, I let it drop. None of us wanted a reminder of losing Mamá and Papá.
Now Abuela was gone too, a stroke taking her a year ago.
The fire crackled, and Frank joined me at the window. Lamplight pooled around my socks, and rain rat-a-tatted on the roof.
WOW! What a teaser! Want a little more? Check out the Book trailer
Congrats on the release Erin!
Thanks for coming by. Stay cool and Keep mOving Forward:-)