(The Grave Winner #1)
Leigh Baxton is terrified her mom will come back from the dead — just like the prom queen did.
While the town goes beehive over the news, Leigh bikes to the local cemetery and buries some of her mom’s things in her grave to keep her there. When the hot and mysterious caretaker warns her not to give gifts to the dead, Leigh cranks up her punk music and keeps digging.
She should have listened.
Two dead sorceresses evicted the prom queen from her grave to bury someone who offered certain gifts. Bury them alive, that is, then resurrect them to create a trio of undead powerful enough to free the darkest sorceress ever from her prison inside the earth.
With help from the caretaker and the dead prom queen, Leigh must find out what’s so special about the gifts she gave, and why the sorceresses are stalking her and her little sister. If she doesn’t, she’ll either lose another loved one or have to give the ultimate gift to the dead – herself.
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Excerpt
Dad, Darby, and I stood rooted in place at
Mom’s burial. The weight in my chest threatened to suffocate me if I looked at
the lid of her gleaming casket any longer. Instead, I focused on the black
birds cutting across the sky in a sharp V formation. They pressed on until the
tops of the trees took them from me.
The preacher had stopped talking a long time ago.
People still crowded around us, heads bent, smothering their sniffles with
tissues. Someone patted my back. I wished they’d stop. No attempt to comfort
would help.
The white-haired old man hovering back by the fence
hacked loudly then puffed on a cigarette with a dirt-spattered hand. When we
arrived at Heartland Cemetery, I’d seen him preparing another grave for a
casket. He bounced on the balls of his feet, probably anxious to get the body
in the ground.
Mom’s body. Once the ground swallowed her, her
death would be final, and that guy wanted to speed things up. He probably
wanted to get to his coffee break or something. Heat flashed through my gut. I
took a step towards him.
Dad grabbed the collar of my dress and yanked me
back. I opened my mouth to say something, but the words died in my throat when
I saw the tears slipping down his cheeks.
Darby had her head buried in his side. She looped
her small fingers around my plaid belt, the one Mom got me for my fifteenth
birthday. I grasped Darby’s warm hand and closed my eyes against the pricks of
hurt inside them.
The people closing us in shifted and began to
wander away. The old man inched closer to Mom’s casket. Dad tightened his hold
on my collar. I gripped Darby’s fingers and glared at the man.
The
few people who were left gave us consoling looks and said empty words before
they drifted off. One was the woman who’d seen my funeral attire earlier and
clucked her tongue in disapproval.
Mom had loved my black
eyeliner and these combat boots, though. She’d said I reminded her of herself
when she was young.
“It’s time,” Dad said.
A choked cry forced its way out of my mouth. No, it
wasn’t. If we left, the old man would lower Mom into the ground. It would be
final, and I couldn’t stand it.
“Why?” I asked, my voice cracking.
Dad just shook his head, hugged us both to him, and
turned to leave Mom with the old man.
I wriggled free and ran.
“Leigh?” Dad called.
I didn’t know where I was going or what I was
doing. But I needed to be away—away from that stupid man who wanted to put the
final punctuation mark on Mom’s life. Away from the unfairness of her death.
My breath came in quick, sharp gasps as I wound
around crumbling headstones. The sun threw bright rays on the maze of white,
rocky paths and made my eyes tear up. I pumped my legs harder until I became
nothing but movement. The untied laces of my left boot whipped my bare legs.
Grass and mud around the graves muffled my steps until my boot flew off my foot
and landed with a thwack in the middle of a cluster of trees.
I leaned over to catch my breath, unsure if I
wanted to laugh or cry. Several yards behind me, Dad and Darby stood and
waited. I waved them on to the gates and went to retrieve my boot. There seemed to be no one around except the
trees and me. The leaves murmured to each other while the wind swayed the
branches. Heartland Cemetery had more trees than the rest of Krapper, Kansas,
and they all whispered and danced for the amusement of the dead.
A sudden breeze brushed over my arms and sent a
faint smell of rotten hamburger past my nose. My stomach rolled. What was that?
That didn’t smell like the usual slaughtered cow stink that came from the other
side of town. I shoved my foot into my boot and hobbled away.
The breeze and stink faded to nothing as quickly as
they had come. I bent to tie my boot, but a crackling behind me made me pause.
A cloud cast long, dark shadows over the headstones and chilled my skin. The
hairs along my arms prickled.
The crackling came closer. I turned my head
slightly. In the corner of my eye, inky black darkness crawled up the bark of a
nearby tree.
I gasped and shot to my feet. The black ink crept
to the tips of the branches and ripped away its leaves, leaving it empty and
naked. More darkness pooled at the bottom of the trunk and inched along the
grass towards me. Every green blade curled in on itself with that awful
crackling sound, dying. The darkness reached straight for me.
A shudder raced across my shoulders. I stumbled
backwards. My gaze caught on blackened footprints that led to the tree. Someone
was doing this? But how? This wasn’t possible.
I glanced back at Dad and Darby, but they’d gone on
without me. This couldn’t be real. None of it. I shook my head hard, trying to
wake myself. Nothing changed.
Something dark fluttered from behind the dead tree.
Whoever was doing this stood behind the trunk.
I dug my nails into my palms, pressed my lips together,
and took a step back. A branch snapped under my boot, louder than the
crackling. I froze. My heart jumped.
Scraps of muddy fabric flapped around the trunk,
followed by a girl.
My flesh crept up and down my bones. Sweat trickled
down the back of my dress. That rotten meat stink kicked my stomach, forcing me
to clap a hand over my nose and mouth.
The torn fabric that hung from the girl’s scrawny
frame looked like a prom dress. Mud and grime covered her entire body. Her
mouth sagged open in a silent scream.
I couldn’t move. The darkness pooled underneath the
dangling hem of the girl’s dress and spread dangerously close to the toes of my
boots, but I couldn’t move.
The girl raised her tucked chin and looked at me.
The whites of her eyes blazed behind the mud caking her face. Her open mouth
held the same black gloom that dripped at her feet. A grimy tiara perched on
the side of her head.
My muscles stiffened. I gasped as recognition hit
me.
I knew the girl. Or knew of her. Her social circle
was my social nightmare. Her name was Sarah, a popular cheerleader who
committed suicide a week ago.
But how could she be here when she should be in the
ground? I had to be hallucinating. My grief, the stress from the day, it was
all making me see things.
Jumbled whispers swirled through the air. Was Sarah
trying to tell me something? Because I didn’t want to hear it. My feet finally
got the message to move just before the killing darkness touched my boots. I
ran.
“Mom,” I called without thinking. Mom.
The old man cranked a lever that lowered her into
the ground. A dull pain stitched my side. A sob welled in my throat. I couldn’t
watch.
“Dad!” I raced for the cemetery gates. He and Darby
stood just outside. When I neared them, I breathed, “Something’s wrong.” Because
what else could I say in front of Darby? If she’d seen what I saw, it would be
too much to handle in one day. I stood so I blocked her view of anything behind
me and resisted the urge to flip the glasses off her face.
Jo, my best friend, put her hand on my shoulder. I
hadn’t even noticed she was there. “What is it, Leigh?”
I took giant gulps of air and risked a glance
behind me. The trees looked normal. Black death hadn’t dripped everywhere.
Everyone was in their graves.
That fact made me wince. “Nothing.”
Lindsey R. Loucks
Lindsey R. Loucks works as a school librarian in rural Kansas. When she’s not discussing books with anyone who will listen, she’s dreaming up her own stories. Eventually her brain gives out, and she’ll play hide and seek with her cat, put herself in a chocolate induced coma, or watch scary movies alone in the dark to reenergize. She’s been with her significant other for almost two decades.
There will be reviews, interviews, guest posts, excerpts and giveaways + a special giveaway on the Dark World Books website! Check below to find a giveaway to get the chance to win two printed copies of The Grave Winner + Swag, and it's US Only.
The Grave Winner Tour schedule:
May 20th | Road to Hell series (Author Interview, Excerpt)
May 21st | Unputdownable Books (Excerpt)
May 22nd | Mythical Books (Excerpt, Giveaway)
May 23rd | Emma’s Rumblings on Supernatural Fiction (Guest Post, Excerpt)
May 24th | The Avid Reader (Review, Excerpt)
May 27th | Fictional Candy (Excerpt, Giveaway)
May 28th | Breathe In BooKs (Review, Excerpt, Giveaway)
May 29th | Mind Reader (Character Interview)
May 30th | Justified Lunacy (Review, Author Interview)
May 31st | Frankie’s Blooding Bookshelf (Review)
Thank you for hosting me! :)
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