Book Blitz ~ The Shrike & the Shadows by A.M. Wright & Chantal Gadoury ~ Excerpt + Giveaway
Morning/almost afternoon all,
Welcome to the Book Blitz for The Shrike & the Shadows by A.M. Wright & Chantal Gadoury! A book that sounds absolutely amazing with Hansel and Gretel and horror! Oh yes!
For today’s post I got quite a few things. For instance you can read an excerpt, participate in a giveaway, and learn about the book and the authors.
Let’s get this blitz started~
Men have gone missing before.
The village of Krume is plagued by a haunted wood and a hungry witch. It’s been that way for as long as Hans and Greta can remember, though they have never seen the witch themselves; no one has.
When men start to disappear once again in the cover of night – their bloody hearts turning up on doorsteps – the village falls into frenzied madness.
Hans and Greta, two outcast orphans, find themselves facing accusations of witchcraft and are met with an ultimatum: burn at the stake, or leave the village forever.
With nowhere else to go, they abandon their only home.
As they venture into the strange forest, their path is fraught with horrific creatures, wild and vivid hallucinations, and a mysterious man tied to the witch’s past.
The Shrike is watching, just beyond the deep darkness of the woods.
Buy the book here: Amazon
A.M. Wright is an Ohio native, perched on the shores of Lake Erie for as long as she can remember. She is a graduate of Walsh University and holds a Bachelor’s Degree in Corporate Communications, with two minors in Marketing and Writing. She has a passion for reading, writing, and drawing; and has a particularly strong love for shojo-manga and all genres of anime. When A.M. Wright isn’t focused on her day job, she is sorting through submissions, writing too many stories to keep track of, and playing video games with her fiance in a townhouse that’s just a fifteen minute drive from “The Roller Coaster Capital of the World.”
Amazon Best Selling Author, Chantal Gadoury, is a 2011 graduate from Susquehanna University with a Bachelor’s Degree in Creative Writing. Since graduation, she has published “The Songs in Our Hearts” with 48Fourteen Publishing, and “Allerleirauh” with Parliament House Press, with future titles to follow. Chantal first started writing stories at the age of seven and continues with that love of writing today. Writing novels for Chantal has become a life-long dream come true! When she’s not writing, she enjoys painting, drinking lots of DD Iced Coffee, and watching Disney classics. Chantal lives in Muncy, Pennsylvania with her Mom, Sister and furry-‘brother’ (aka, puppy) Taran.
Since they had stepped into the woods, it had taken everything in Hans to keep himself together. His nerves, which had been taut like a rope, could not unwind themselves. His body ached less from the beating in the village, and more by being among the trees. Hans felt as though the Shrike were watching, waiting for him to make his move—as though he were pitted in the middle of a game. Her game. It took him much longer to finally find some peace, but when he finally did, it pulled him deeply under.
His dreams were not pleasant, as his mind was afraid and played awful tricks. Hans felt the gentle kneading of dirt pressing into his tender limbs. The tendrils of wicked vines creeping over his body like spiders along a web. They dug beneath the surface of his skin, like a parasite he had once stuck in his arm as a child, and it was his father who had to cut it out. It had frightened Hans then, and it frightened him now.
As he fell further into the dream, everything around him grew worse. The woods surrounded him, caging him like a wild bird. And there was no escape. Greta and Brugg were not there. He was alone. Abandoned. Who would have stayed for a man damned by a witch?
“Help me!” he cried, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. But no one answered. No one came.
He could feel his head sprouting something heavy, and he reached up with one free hand to feel his hair. No soft locks were there to greet him; instead, the rough touch of bark and branches. His heart raced as his fingers trailed over what should have been his head. Slowly, he looked down at his legs, which had become bound together like the base of a tree. His chest felt coarse, covered in green moss. His tears, which had spilled earlier, dried up into flakes of dirt and chipped away with the wind.
His voice caught in his throat as the figure of a woman appeared in the distance.
She held something in her stained red hands. And somehow, just before he woke with a start, Hans knew it was his heart, for he could not feel it beating in his chest.
