~ I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review ~
Book Description:
One angry, grieving boy.
Chase DeWitt is fourteen when his mother dies and he stumbles into the woods beyond his home, angry and heartbroken. He didn’t know that it would change the course of his life.
Two broken, lonely men.
Tyler Reid is twenty three, grumpy and angry, trying to take care of a injured brother, and rebuilding a life blind hatred destroyed in one night.
But he understands the boy who stumbles out of the woods and into his life, understands the grief in his eyes and the rage that makes him shake. And there is something in that familiar grief that makes Tyler trust Chase, when trusting humans has only ever lead to disaster. And a falling down house they make a home.
As the summer passes and the years turn, Chase cares for Tyler’s brother, helps him rebuilding the house in the woods, as they help each other rebuild a life beyond the little house, Chase realizes two important things: these men matter to him, could be family.
And they are not nearly as human as they seem.
My Review:
So this one is a struggle for me to review for two reasons. One, I loved the concept of this book. I love the emotions, I love watching this family grow and change over time. Two, and this is where the but comes in. I struggled to read this story, particularly in the beginning as it has a very slow start. But more for the fact that it feels very stream of consciousness on the writer's part. I had challenges at times keeping up with who was talking and more the when of it all. Time jumps ahead at a pretty good clip in the story and things are obviously said that we aren't privy too (for instance when ever Chase told Tyler about the death of his mother. We never see that happen but from a later conversation it is clear that at some point Chase has told Tyler and Logan about what occurred.) and that throws me way off.
There is a dramatic shift that occurs (though it is a slow road to get there, perhaps that is why the title is Show Shift?) about midway through the book when we change from a bit of a contemporary coming of age story to more of the paranormal/urban fantasy feel. Once that shift occurs and the action begins the book really picks up and you find yourself flipping pages faster than your brain can maybe process the words on the page. I love the man that Chase grows into and the length he is willing to go to protect those that he loves, that all plays out the second half of the book and is well worth the slow beginning.
The thing is though, I can't not like this book regardless of all the little things that might make my head twitch, and cause me to give it 4 instead of 5 stars, because the fact is this is just plain and simple a beautiful story about acceptance. About finding a family that completes you (yes, that sounds corny but it's true), about discovering who you are, who you were meant to be, and about love...most of all about love.
I think it is important that you know going in that this isn't your typical paranormal read. This is a book that lives in a realm of cross genres, one where it is hard to pin point exactly what type of book this is. It is a book that becomes more than it's genre, it is a book that is the story itself and you have to let that story guide you. What I want to say is, don't give up! Keep reading and you will find that the reward of knowing these characters and the depth of their love out weighs all imperfections.
*Sidenote* I truly hope that Nazarea puts this one out in Paperback because I am in LOVE with this cover and need it on my shelf!
Excerpt:
“Are you really ok with this?” Chase asks later that night when Tyler slips into his bedroom and curls behind him on his bed. It’s not small but it always feels like it is when Tyler is in it with him.He’s quiet, so Chase tilts his head back and says, “You don’t have to. We can find another way.”“I’m ok. We need to do this,” Tyler says. Chase nods. He touches the runes tattooed on Tyler’s ribs, the ones he marked Tyler with, and Tyler arches into the touch. “Remember you’re mine, Tyler. Whatever happens, whatever she says, you’re mine. And I won't let her hurt what's mine.”Tyler shuffles into him, presses his face into Chase’s throat, and they cling to each other as the night deepens around them.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Nazarea Andrews (N to almost everyone) is an avid reader and tends to write the stories she wants to read. Which means she writes everything from zombies and dystopia to contemporary love stories.
When not writing, she can most often be found driving her kids to practice and burning dinner while she reads, or binge watching TV shows on Netflix. N loves chocolate, wine, and coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves her kids.
N is a self-professed geek and enjoys spending her spare time lost in her favorite fandoms and can often be found babbling about them on social media.
She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, spoiled cat and overgrown dog. She is the author of World Without End series, Neverland Found, Edge of the Falls, and The University of Branton Series. Stop by her twitter (@NazareaAndrews) and tell her what fantastic book she should read next.
When CEO Renner Bastion walks into a room, everyone keeps their distance. Well, everyone but the sarcastic, tattooed, Boston-bred security guard whose presence has kept Renner in New Jersey longer than intended. As if the unwanted attraction isn’t unsettling enough, Renner finds out his protector isn’t as unavailable as originally thought.
Milo Bautista just came out to his wealthy, ultra-confident boss, a man he secretly respects and admires…in more ways than he’ll admit. Worldly, experienced Renner would never look in his direction, let alone share some of that confidence he wears like a cloak, so Milo has set his sights on someone else to be his first.
Until Renner offers him private lessons in seduction...
Exclusive Excerpt:
Chapter One
Would you rather was Renner Bastion’s least favorite game. Scratch that. All games were his least favorite. He couldn’t help playing one, however, as he stared down at his factory floor. Security guard Milo Bautista flirted with one of the older female assembly line workers, twirling her by the hand as if they were on a cruise ship dancing to bongo music. Renner stood in an air-conditioned office, surrounded by silence. So. Would he rather be upstairs in his impeccably clean suit, or downstairs, covered by factory grease that seemed to ooze from every corner of his New Jersey manufacturing plant? Considering that Milo and the woman looked joyful while Renner was in a shitty mood, he didn’t have an answer. How you like them apples?Jesus. Thanks to Milo, he was even starting to think in a Boston accent. The man who’d ordained himself Renner’s personal one-man security detail without permission was more Boston than Mark Wahlberg at a fucking Red Sox game. Wearing Paul Revere’s hat.And yet here Renner was, kind of wishing the jerk would come upstairs where he belonged, instead of making the female population of Hook swoon. “There’s a good sign it’s time to go home,” Renner muttered, his breath creating condensation on the glass. He’d been saying the same thing for weeks now. It’s time to go home. Not to his two-bedroom in Hook, though. His apartment in Manhattan. Or his flat in China. Or any one of the homes he’d rented to keep an eye on his other ventures. The damage sustained by the factory explosion in Hook had been repaired weeks ago, the construction no longer requiring his daily supervision. God knew his employees were sick to death of his presence, turning their backs whenever he passed through their midst. Yet here he remained, in this town full of nosy people constantly wanting to grill meat and drink beer from cans, watching everyone else live from the other side of the glass. “What a cliché you’ve become.” Renner reached to his left, pouring whiskey from a glass decanter into a tumbler and lifting it to his lips for a long sip. “Resented boss. Spoiler of fun.” The liquor lit a path of fire on its way down. “The one who gets shit done and signs everyone’s paychecks. Don’t forget that part.” As if Renner had spoken into the intercom instead of to himself, Milo’s smooth movements snagged while dipping the enamored worker. His dark-haired head came up, his gaze finding Renner upstairs, that eyebrow tilting as if to say, want totake a picture, boss man? That was their relationship, if you could refer to it as such. Renner gave Milo orders, as he did to all of his employees, and Milo told him to shove it, going about following instructions in his own way. His signature loose-limbed, ready to rumble, swaggering way. Sometimes he even winked at Renner while following through, which in itself should have been grounds for firing. Even if winking didn’t break any codes of conduct per se, it certainly violated Renner’s own unwritten rule book. As did Milo’s walking into his office without knocking and throwing sarcasm Renner’s way at every available opportunity. Apparently Milo fell into some kind of gray area that allowed him to disrespect Renner’s authority and retain his job. The rugged Bostonian may have been hired several months ago by Vaughn, the head of factory security and an old army buddy of Milo’s, but Renner had the ultimate power to hire and fire. Putting up with the subtle jabs and sarcasm had nothing to do with Renner’s reluctant fascination with the security guard. Or the way a flame lit under his blood every time the man was close by. Nothing whatsoever. He had a strict set of rules when it came to other men, and Milo violated them all by being his employee. Not to mention being too young…and too straight. Like, chest bumps and beer koozies straight. In other words, Renner was doing his best to ignore how Milo’s security shirt had come unbuttoned halfway to his belt and sweat was beginning to catch the bright factory lights—“Right.” Renner swallowed the remaining inch of whiskey and turned away from the window. He needed to get some sleep. He’d been working on a new contract pitch for three days, and his common sense was beginning to blur. The account he was trying to land didn’t want to use their facilities, anyway. Despite Bastion Enterprises’ pristine track record, the rejections continued. Why was he trying so hard?Because that’s what Renner did. He worked until he collapsed. Late hours, red-eye flights, exhaustion, coffee, whiskey. Repeat. After being doubted by countless associates on his rise to the top, a fire burned in his gut, daring him to prove himself. It never, ever went away. Yes, work was his cruelest vice, and it kept him moving. Never settling. He certainly didn’t make habits of outstaying his welcome in one town. A place where he didn’t warrant so much as a wave when walking down the street. It was absurd that Milo, an employee who had about as much respect for Renner as a delinquent child for a school principal, should make him feel…welcome. For the love of God, he’d greeted Renner with a middle finger this morning and yet somehow, Renner had been looking forward to it. At least it was an acknowledgment. Time to go home. Seriously. Back to the city. Back to sanity. Back to dating men who were available to him. Why was there so little appeal to the latter?With an irritated curse, Renner went to his desk and began shoving files into his leather briefcase. If he went out the back door, he wouldn’t have to ruin everyone’s fun downstairs. His Mercedes was parked a few blocks over, despite Milo’s insistence that he “pahk in the freakin’ laht,” so he would avoid that argument as well. That was not a disappointed tug in his stomach; he’d just skipped dinner.
…
Milo watched the light go out in Renner’s office and knew the stubborn prick was going to try to sneak out without him. The guy really thought he was untouchable, didn’t he? But in a town full of people who disliked him—especially after firing their beloved mechanic, Duke, and the explosion that followed—Renner didn’t get to waltz around in the dark in his five-thousand-dollar suit. Maybe Hook was slightly safer than Milo’s old Boston neighborhood, but at age twenty-six, caution still ran in his blood. He’d been hired to keep the factory safe, and that duty extended to Renner, the factory’s owner, whether the dude liked it or not. The army had taught Milo to take his responsibilities seriously, and after a disorganized, all-around backward youth, he’d learned there was satisfaction in being thorough. To be proud of a job. Responsibility. Yeah. That was so why he was so protective over Renner. Milo snorted to himself and gave a sweeping bow to the woman in front of him. She was sweet, this lady. Kind of reminded him of the librarian who’d kept a forty-ounce in her desk back in middle school. Quick with a joke and loved anyone who noticed she still had a little fire in her. “All right, pretty lady. I have to take off.” Milo took her hand, giving her one final spin. “You go easy on the boys at the Third Shift tonight. Just remember who got you warmed up.”She doubled over and laughed along with her friends, who’d stayed behind to watch. “Why don’t you come out and give me a spin yourself?”“Ah, you know how it is.” He winked at them as he re-buttoned his shirt. “Hot date.”Milo left them laughing on the factory floor as he jogged toward the back exit. Wondering how far Renner had gotten without him, his smile dimmed. Bet he hadn’t even parked that Mercedes in the gated lot, like he was supposed to. Maybe the guy liked being reminded. Good. That’s exactly what was going to happen. Crisp, fall coolness slithered inside Milo’s shirt when he slammed out of the factory, the metal door booming shut behind him. He took a right and hit the sidewalk, knowing Renner liked to park near the coffee shop so he could feed his caffeine addiction immediately after stepping out of his shiny black ride in the mornings. Yeah, he’d been observing his boss somewhat…closely. But not only for the reason Renner assumed. Also known as the same justification Milo gave himself—that he wanted to excel at his job. It was more than that, though. Maybe his careful following of Renner’s movements had begun as a way to keep the factory owner safe, but it had developed into something else entirely. Curiosity. Even…awe on occasion. What would it be like to be so comfortable, so sure of himself, the way Renner was? Being that the guy was private as hell, Milo had a feeling his boss wouldn’t like it one bit if he knew Milo was following him…hoping to learn. The possibility of Renner’s being pissed wasn’t stopping Milo from going after him, though. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if there was anything that could. Which was pretty fucking confusing. Considering Milo was carrying a torch for someone else. That troubling thought was still weighing Milo down when he turned the corner and finally heard footsteps. Heavy, purposeful ones that belonged to Renner. Up ahead, the lights of his boss’s Mercedes flashed, signaling that he’d unlocked the car with the key chain remote. Any second, he would be safe inside the vehicle and Milo could go back to his apartment. For now, he would just hang back in the shadows and watch—Three men converged on Renner from all sides. Milo was already running, cursing under his breath about stubborn city people and gated parking lots. He was still a full block behind Renner, so he was forced to watch some punches being exchanged…and not surprisingly, some of them were being thrown by Renner. Built like a hockey goaltender, the man was intimidating. He just was. That was half the problem with him walking the dark streets of Hook. There were a lot of good people in this town, but there were also men who wanted very badly to put rich, arrogant Renner in his place, and maybe get a packed wallet in the process. Yeah, Renner was holding his own, but the odds were against him. He delivered a right cross to one of the hooded attackers’ faces, but two of the men grabbed him from behind, allowing the punch recipient to get his revenge. Renner’s head snapped back, and that’s when Milo reached the group, drawing his Colt in one smooth motion. “Told you to park in the lot, boss man.”“Now really isn’t the time, Bautista.”Milo’s smile was tight as he leveled the gun beyond Renner’s shoulder. “You’re going to want to step away from him. I’ve got aim for days.”“Aw, look at that,” said the man who wasn’t holding back Renner. “His boyfriend came to rescue him.”“Oh, come on,” Renner said, looking almost relaxed. “He’s really not my type.”Milo ignored the weird discomfort in his chest. “Yeah. I won’t lose any sleep over that black eye he’s going to have, but I would over losing my job.” He strode forward and grabbed a hold of Renner’s thick biceps, pulling him out of the men’s hold. Backing both of them up so he could have a clear angle on all three perpetrators, Milo jerked his head in the direction of the nearby alleyway. “Are you sticking around so I can call the cops, or what? Get the hell out of here.”Milo and Renner were silent as the men took off into the darkness, kicking trash can lids as they went. Only then did Milo let out the breath he’d been holding, his arms lowering in degrees. If even two of the attackers had been carrying weapons, things could have turned out way worse. Thank God they appeared to be nothing more than some misguided kids. In a close-knit place like Hook, sometimes judgment calls had to made about what represented actual danger and what actions could go a long way toward keeping the respect and admiration of people in town. Still, looking the other way bothered Milo. Especially when someone could have been hurt. Renner, specifically.“Next time you might not be so lucky, you know,” Milo said, turning toward Renner. His usual lecture was poised right on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to utter a single word of it when faced with the swelling of Renner’s right eye. “Shit.” A lump grew in his throat. “Sorry I didn’t come sooner.”Renner scoffed and ducked past a cringing Milo. Why had he apologized like that? The guy was open to sympathy like the military was open to accepting poodles as recruits. As in, notopen to it. That wasn’t how he and Renner worked. Milo had learned to navigate his boss by giving as good as he got.Letting on that he secretly respected and admired the man was out of the question. Milo swallowed and tried again, catching Renner just before he could climb into the Mercedes. “You going to say thank you or anything, you ungrateful dick?”Renner had already opened the driver’s side door, but he slammed it closed now, striding back toward Milo with a curious look on his face. “Actually, I have a question.” He seesawed his hand between their chests. “What are you doing? Why do you insist on following me? I’m a grown man, Milo. I have the right to get mugged in peace.”“Wow. You just said that out loud.” The back of Milo’s neck pulled taut at the line of questioning, but he forced a belligerent expression. “I’ve told you before, this is my job—”“No.” Renner shook his head. “No. You’re not assigned to me. I didn’t ask you to be my watchdog. This is all of your own free will.”Damn. Milo hadn’t expected this. At least, he hadn’t expected Renner to get in his face like this. So…close. Like the way he got close with other men? What did he think about Milo’s face from such a scant distance? “I…uh.” Milo stepped back, replacing the gun in its holster on his belt. “Like I said, you’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow.”“I’m going back to the city in the morning.” That statement hung in the air between them like low fog. Or was Milo only imagining it? Just like he was imagining the hard drumming inside his rib cage? “Before I go, Bautista, I want you to tell me what all this is about. We don’t even like each other, right? And yet here you are. You’re constantly around, worrying about my safety. I…” He loosened his tie with rash movements. “Perhaps the differences in my…biology make me seem different from someone like you, but I’m the furthest thing from weak—”“That’s what it is,” Milo blurted, shocking himself. What was the point in keeping the truth to himself anymore, though, if Renner was leaving in the morning? “Not the part about you being weak. I don’t think that. The opposite, actually. You’ve got a pretty nice right hook there, boss man.”Renner raised an eyebrow. “Okay.” Christ. His blood was flowing in seventeen directions, his tongue weighing as much as a horse in his mouth. This was real. This was happening. “Okay, I’ve been watching you. All right?” A heavy beat passed. “Why?”See, that’s where things got murky. It had started as a way to study Renner’s confidence, hoping to build his own. Along the way, though, Milo had gotten…off track. By more than a few degrees. Instead of learning how to be comfortable in his own skin by following the lead of a man who epitomized confidence, Milo had developed something of a crush. Who wouldn’t? Renner was concise, demanding and intelligent, and he didn’t give a fuck who disapproved of him. A badass who could raise an eyebrow and have employees running for cover.Not to worry, though. Milo had righted the wayward course. He was charted in the right direction once again. In no world did Milo and Renner make sense. Nor did his boss ever look at him with anything other than vexation. It was a dumb infatuation on Milo’s end and nothing would ever come out of it. He actually had a chance with someone else. Someone he genuinely liked. The man who’d stirred his first attraction to the same sex. Maybe his ill-advised interest in Renner had been taking a front seat lately, but that was a proximity issue. Things would change. A lot of things. Starting now. “I just…I have a thing for someone. And I don’t know how to approach him about it.” The drumming in his ears beat louder. “You’re the only guy I know who—”“I’m sorry.” Renner held up a finger. “Did you just say you have a thing for a him?”
Tessa Bailey is originally from Carlsbad, California. The day after high school graduation, she packed her yearbook, ripped jeans and laptop, driving cross-country to New York City in under four days.
Her most valuable life experiences were learned thereafter while waitressing at K-Dees, a Manhattan pub owned by her uncle. Inside those four walls, she met her husband, best friend and discovered the magic of classic rock, managing to put herself through Kingsborough Community College and the English program at Pace University at the same time. Several stunted attempts to enter the work force as a journalist followed, but romance writing continued to demand her attention.
She now lives in Long Island, New York with her husband of nine years and four-year-old daughter. Although she is severely sleep-deprived, she is incredibly happy to be living her dream of writing about people falling in love.
~ I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review ~
Book Description:
Nothing says Happy Birthday like summoning the spirits of your dead relatives.
Alex is a bruja, the most powerful witch in a generation...and she hates magic. At her Deathday celebration, Alex performs a spell to rid herself of her power. But it backfires. Her whole family vanishes into thin air, leaving her alone with Nova, a brujo boy she can't trust. A boy whose intentions are as dark as the strange marks on his skin.
The only way to get her family back is to travel with Nova to Los Lagos, a land in-between, as dark as Limbo and as strange as Wonderland...
Book Trailer:
My Review:
First off can we just talk about how fabulous the cover is? This is one of those books that you buy for the cover, stay for the story, and then lovingly display in your favorite bookcase. I love the look and feel of it, the girl with the Sugar Skull face puts you right into the perfect frame of mind for when you open the cover and enter the world of the Brooklyn Brujas.
Alex (Alejandra) is a 16 year old girl growing up in Brooklyn, NY. She's the middle of three sisters, she's the quiet type, the studious type, the easily forgotten or quietly (not so quietly) teased girl in the halls of the high school who is struggling with her identity and trying to find her place within the world. Seems like an average 16 year old right? Wrong, because Alex isn't average at all, but Alex wants to be. Alex comes from a long line of Brujas and Brujos, or what we might think of as Witches and she's coming up on her Deathday (think of it as a debutante party or a Quinceañera) what should be a celebration of her power but is instead something Alex fears. You see Alex doesn't want her power, she's been hiding it from her family for years because she knows that something isn't right with it, she knows that it doesn't help, it hurts, she knows that it makes people leave, but the thing is in truth Alex really doesn't know and that not knowing is going to lead her down a 'rabbit hole' that will change her and her world forever.
So I had a little bit of mixed feelings for Alex but that could possibly be because I am technically old enough to be her mother, haha. I liked her a lot. I like her personality, I like her determination, I like her drive and I LOVE the way she is with her family but, (this is where the old mom in me comes out) I didn't like her selfishness. It's an odd selfishness too, because you look at how she interacts with her sisters, friend and her mother and you would tell me I don't know what I am talking about, but when it comes to her beliefs in her families heritage and abilities she doesn't take anyone else into account but her and how things make her feel. Now, she's a sixteen year old girl and in reality we are all selfish at sixteen (heck at 40 there some of us still are) but I wanted her to acknowledge that part of herself sooner or perhaps have someone call her out on it...then again, where would the story have gone if she had been. Would she still been the same girl that tried to refuse her 'gift', would she have ended up on a scary and redeeming journey? Ultimately this is a book about a young, sacred, lost girl trying to find her way in her world and with herself and to do that she has to 'fall down that rabbit hole' and open herself to all the pain and all the reward that comes with being who she is meant to be no matter how the world sees her. So long story short, (ha) I know that the selfishness in her has to be there, it has to play out, but I don't have to feel good about it and that's okay it doesn't take away from my ultimate enjoyment of the story and it gives us all something to really ponder about ourselves and if we have opened up to who we are or are we also being selfish and trying to hold ourselves back because we fear the world around us.
Let's talk Nova. I am a Nova Fan, huge, HUGE Nova fan. He will wiggle his way into your heart. He will make you cry, he will make you laugh, he will piss you right the heck off, but you will fall in love with him. He is a character that you don't see often in books, his depth and development is...honestly I don't have words to explain how rich this character felt to me. This whole book to me was a saturation of color. While I read it I kept thinking of it as this gorgeous living oil painting with deep rich colors, sweeping strokes, wild movements that makes the canvas it's painted on full of dimension and depth and at the center of this was Nova. He is the brightest and darkest color, he is the tallest peaks and the lowest valleys in the texture of the painting. In a story that is supposed to highlight the heroine, Nova, the anti-hero, eclipses her. I don't know if it is because he has so much more story to tell, and it feels as though Alex's story is over. I don't know if it is because while the author started writing a story about Alex she 'fell in love' with the character of Nova and he simply ran away with her original story. I don't know the reason but Nova became for me the center of this book and the character that I felt the most strongly about, the character that I want to see again and again.
With that in mind I will say that the character of Rishi who is the ultimate love interest in this book, which I was really excited about just did not connect with me at all. She was a minimal player in this book and unfortunately the made her and Alex's relationship feel a bit contrived. I loved them together as best friends, they fit that way, but when they became more it just didn't work. I think it is because Rishi is just not a major player for a good portion of the book. We spend a lot of time with Nova and Alex and we're allowed to let them grow on us. That doesn't happen with Rishi and since she is the major love interest for Alex it ends up leaving us feeling flat as readers. Goodness knows YA needs more LBGTQ stories, especially I am finding in the F/F range so I hope that in future books if their relationship is going to remain strong we will see them together and get to know them better as a couple.
Labyrinth Lost is ultimately a beautifully told coming of age story. It is lush in its description and world building. It slows considerably in the middle but thankfully it's beauty will keep you flipping the pages as you I hope like me begin to see it as a living canvas in your mind. It is a world you have never seen before with culture and lore coming together to make story that has the feel of an old world folk lore with a new world twist. Fantasy and Paranormal readers will love this book, readers looking for POC books, books with a LBGTQ story, readers looking for a book that they can loose themselves in...this is the book for you!
~ HAPPY READING ~
Excerpt:
1
Follow our voices, sister.
Tell us the secret of your death.
—-Resurrection Canto,
Book of Cantos
The second time I saw my dead aunt Rosaria, she was dancing.
Earlier that day, my mom had warned me, pressing a long, red fingernail on the tip of my nose, “Alejandra, don’t go downstairs when the Circle arrives.”
But I was seven and asked too many questions. Every Sunday, cars piled up in our driveway, down the street, and around the corner of our old, narrow house in Sunset Park, Brooklyn. Mom’s Circle usually brought cellophane--wrapped dishes and jars of dirt and tubs of brackish water that made the Hudson River look clean. This time, they carried something more.
When my sisters started snoring, I threw off my covers and crept down the stairs. The floorboards were uneven and creaky, but I was good at not being seen. Fuzzy, yellow streetlight shone through our attic window and followed me down every flight until I reached the basement.
A soft hum made its way through the thin walls. I remember thinking I should listen to my mom’s warning and go back upstairs. But our house had been restless all week, and Lula, Rose, and I were shoved into the attic, out of the way while the grown--ups prepared the funeral. I wanted out. I wanted to see.
The night was moonless and cold one week after the Witch’s New Year, when Aunt Rosaria died of a sickness that made her skin yellow like hundred--year--old paper and her nails turn black as coal. We tried to make her beautiful again. My sisters and I spent all day weaving good luck charms from peonies, corn husks, and string—-one loop over, under, two loops over, under. Not even the morticians, the Magos de Muerte, could fix her once--lovely face.
Aunt Rosaria was dead. I was there when we mourned her. I was there when we buried her. Then, I watched my father and two others shoulder a dirty cloth bundle into the house, and I knew I couldn’t stay in bed, no matter what my mother said.
So I opened the basement door.
Red light bathed the steep stairs. I leaned my head toward the light, toward the beating sound of drums and sharp plucks of fat, nylon guitar strings.
A soft mew followed by whiskers against my arm made my heart jump to the back of my rib cage. I bit my tongue to stop the scream. It was just my cat, Miluna. She stared at me with her white, glowing eyes and hissed a warning, as if telling me to turn back. But Aunt Rosaria was my godmother, my family, my friend. And I wanted to see her again.
“Sh!” I brushed the cat’s head back.
Miluna nudged my leg, then ran away as the singing started.
I took my first step down, into the warm, red light. Raspy voices called out to our gods, the Deos, asking for blessings beyond the veil of our worlds. Their melody pulled me step by step until I was crouched at the bottom of the landing.
They were dancing.
Brujas and brujos were dressed in mourning white, their faces painted in the aspects of the dead, white clay and black coal to trace the bones. They danced in two circles—-the outer ring going clockwise, the inner counterclockwise—hands clasped tight, voices vibrating to the pulsing drums.
And in the middle was Aunt Rosaria.
Her body jerked upward. Her black hair pooled in the air like she was suspended in water. There was still dirt on her skin. The white skirt we buried her in billowed around her slender legs. Black smoke slithered out of her open mouth. It weaved in and out of the circle—-one loop over, under, two loops over, under. It tugged Aunt Rosaria higher and higher, matching the rhythm of the canto.
Then, the black smoke perked up and changed its target. It could smell me. I tried to backpedal, but the tiles were slick, and I slid toward the circle. My head smacked the tiles. Pain splintered my skull, and a broken scream lodged in my throat.
The music stopped. Heavy, tired breaths filled the silence of the pulsing red dark. The enchantment was broken. Aunt Rosaria’s reanimated corpse turned to me. Her body purged black smoke, lowering her back to the ground. Her ankles cracked where the bone was brittle, but still she took a step. Her dead eyes gaped at me. Her wrinkled mouth growled my name: Alejandra.
She took another step. Her ankle turned and broke at the joint, sending her flying forward. She landed on top of me. The rot of her skin filled my nose, and grave dirt fell into my eyes.
Tongues clucked against crooked teeth. The voices of the circle hissed, “What’s the girl doing out of bed?”
There was the scent of extinguished candles and melting wax. Decay and perfume oil smothered me until they pulled the body away.
My mother jerked me up by the ear, pulling me up two flights of stairs until I was back in my bed, the scream stuck in my throat like a stone.
“Never,” she said. “You hear me, Alejandra? Never break a Circle.”
I lay still. So still that after a while, she brushed my hair, thinking I had fallen asleep.
I wasn’t. How could I ever sleep again? Blood and rot and smoke and whispers filled my head.
“One day you’ll learn,” she whispered.
Then she went back down the street--lit stairs, down into the warm red light and to Aunt Rosaria’s body. My mother clapped her hands, drums beat, strings plucked, and she said, “Again."
Giveaway:
(Two copies of Labyrinth Lost with signed Labyrinth Lost bookmarks)
Zoraida Córdova was born in Ecuador and raised in Queens, New York. She is the author of the Vicious Deep trilogy, the On the Verge series, and the Brooklyn Brujas series. She loves black coffee, snark, and still believes in magic.
Today I am helping reveal the cover for STYLE by Chelsea M. Cameron.
This book is a Young Adult, contemporary romance novel.
As an added bonus today, Chelsea is sharing some information about another upcoming series coming soon from her!
Be sure to check out the author's note below for details.
STYLE by Chelsea M. Cameron
Releasing Soon!
Genre: YA F/F Contemporary Romance
Cover by: KassiJean
Book Description:
Kyle Blake likes plans. So far, they’re pretty simple: Finish her senior year of high school, head off to a good college, find a cute boyfriend, graduate, get a good job, get married, the whole heterosexual shebang. Nothing is going to stand in the way of that plan. Not even Stella Lewis.
Stella Lewis also has a plan: Finish her senior year as cheer captain, go to college, finally let herself flirt with (and maybe even date) a girl for the first time and go from there.
Fate has other plans for Kyle and Stella when they’re paired up in their AP English class and something between them ignites. It’s confusing and overwhelming and neither of them know what to do about it. One thing they do know is that their connection can’t be ignored. The timing just isn’t right.
But is there ever a good time for falling in love?
SERIES ANNOUNCEMENT FROM CHELSEA M. CAMERON
One family. Seven people. A whole lot of love and a whole lot of drama.
Everyone in Hope Harbor Maine knows the Benson family: six sons, one daughter. They live by one rule: Family comes first.
The Benson Brothers series will be seven books, all standalones that can be read individually, or in order (which will be announced soon).
Author’s note:
I’ve been DYING to write a series all in one family. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers is my favorite musical of all time and I thought, wouldn’t it be cool to write seven stories all from the same family? As an only child, one of my favorite things to explore is sibling relationships. I also saw a gap in stories about working-class people in the New Adult category, which was another reason I wanted to write this. It’s also an ode to Coastal Maine, where I grew up and still live. I wanted to write books that were steeped in salt water and sweat. Books about people who work hard and love hard. I’m so excited about this series and I hope you will be too. Stay tuned for the announcement of the first book as well as the cover reveal.
Chelsea M. Cameron is a New York Times/USA Today Best Selling author from Maine. Lover of things random and ridiculous, Jane Austen/Charlotte and Emily Bronte Fangirl, red velvet cake enthusiast, obsessive tea drinker, vegetarian, former cheerleader and world's worst video gamer. When not writing, she enjoys watching infomercials, singing in the car, tweeting (this one time, she was tweeted by Neil Gaiman) and playing fetch with her cat, Sassenach. She has a degree in journalism from the University of Maine, Orono that she promptly abandoned to write about the people in her own head. More often than not, these people turn out to be just as weird as she is.