Now THIS sounds like a perfectly spooky read! Get your Halloween on with this title.
What’s it about, you ask? Why does it have me itching to get my claws on it? Oops, I mean hands–heh heh. Well, here’s what it’s all about:
Fifteen-year-old Piper Crenshaw knows her house is strange. It’s never needed repairs since it was built in the 1800s, and the lights flicker in response to things she says. As if those things aren’t creepy enough, it’s also the place where her mother committed murder.
To prove she’s not afraid of where she lives, Piper opens a forbidden door, which hides a staircase that leads to the ceiling. That’s when the flashbacks of the original residents from 1875 start, including a love affair between two young servants. Each vision pulls Piper deeper into not only their story, but also her house. Piper confides in her best friend, Todd, whom she’s gradually falling for, but even he doesn’t believe her. At least, not until her house gets axed during a prank, and the act injures Piper instead, cutting a gash the size of Texas into her stomach.
Piper realizes her house isn’t haunted—it’s alive. To sever her link to it, she must unravel the clues in the flashbacks and uncover the truth about her mother’s crime, before she becomes part of her house for good.
And you thought your house had it bad because of a few leaky pipes…don’t you feel better now?
Okay, I don’t know about you, but a good book blurb should be followed by a snippet or two. Let’s open that book and see what the pages turn to, shall we? Never mind that they’re turning by themselves–your computer knows what’s best….
I grovel on the floor, desperate to get to my feet. “Don’t leave me alone here.”
Jordan whirls back, his forehead stern. “This is your house, Piper. Why do you live someplace you’re terrified of?”
“I’m not afraid of all of it,” I say, bustling out before the door can shut on me of its own accord.
“Just parts of it.”
Right–like the walls, the floor, the ceiling…
Here’s another one:
“I guess a direct approach would probably have worked better,” he says. Then he balls his hands into fists and taps them at his knees. “I have the biggest crush on you. There. I said it.”
“You—you do?” This is absurd. And yet I’m ravenous inside. It’s a challenge to concentrate on anything but him, and I want nothing more than for him to keep talking.
Careful–the house heard that….
Who would write such a thing? Well, you’re about to find out.
Good heavens–such an innocent face! Hmmm…gotta wonder about that porch railing–it’s looking a little possessive. Or is just my imagination?
Here’s a bit about Cortney, and where you can go to pick up this lovely tome she’s written:
Cortney is a book nerd who studied literature at BYU-Idaho, a music nerd who plays clarinet in her local community orchestra, and a writing nerd who creates stories for young adults. She lives with her husband and three sons in a small Idaho farm town.
Barnes & Noble:
Now go! Get the word out before your computer decides it wants to play Tetris instead!