Sunday, March 17, 2013

Buried by Gerilyn Marin Excerpt and Giveaway!

Buried
Gerilyn Marin

From Curiosity Quills Press...

Like every resident of Fane’s Cove, Cadence McKenna knows her town is, well, odd. And yet, they’re accustomed to the near-daily supernatural happenings—so accustomed, in fact, that when Grey Addison moves to town and stays, she is shocked to find that she’s the only one who insists there must be something strange about him.

With her life-long—if minor—psychic sensitivity handed down from her grandmother, she knows what she feels isn’t simple paranoia. After all, how many normal guys pay no mind to random poltergeist activity occurring right in front of them?

Cadence can’t blame anyone for wanting to ignore that there might be more to him taking up residence; perhaps if he is a normal guy, it’s just the first sign that whatever it is about the town that drives visitors away is fading. She might have even grudgingly let it go, but then she sees Grey acting very suspiciously and knows she can’t dismiss her feelings until she understands why he’s in Fane’s Cove. Even if it means sticking her neck out by pretending to get close to him . . . and learning more about her town’s history than anyone would ever want to know.


The air is quiet. Numbingly, skin-crawlingly quiet as we inch our way through the old graves and finally reach the row of ancient mausoleums. I can't exactly remember between which two of these crypts Jack's headstone is hidden.

But the grave is at the base of that big ol' tree.

I halt and look up. Crap, it really is dark here, but the sparse and distant light from the streetlamps combined with a bit of dabbled starlight from the surprising clear night sky provides enough illumination that I can see the tree branches.

In the back of my mind, I feel relief that the caretaker actually seems to do his job. Given the time of year, we'd be crunching over fallen leaves, otherwise.

My gaze follows the darkened limbs to the tree, which disappears behind a small, and even darker, steepled roof. I breathe out a tiny, forced sigh.

This is it. Giving myself another nod as I try to steel my nerves, I find that I have to will my legs into motion.

I still have my finger twisted in Grey's t-shirt, so as I move, he falls into step behind me. There's an image tumbling around in my head of a ghostly, white, disembodied hand reaching out from one of the mausoleums as we pass to grab my arm.

A weight falls on one of my shoulders and I nearly jump out of my skin. Whirling on a heel instantly, I open my mouth to let out a shriek.

He clamps a hand over my lips and says in a rushed whisper, "It's okay, it's okay!"

Even seeing that it's only Grey who just gave me the scare of my life doesn't ease the buildup of air in my lungs. I press my hands over his and let out the scream against his skin. The noise is so muffled that all I hear is faint keening.

I drop my hands, and he pulls his away, once the sound dies out.

Catching my breath, I swat his arm, hard. "What is the matter with you?"

"I'm sorry." He spares a second to rub the spot where I struck him, and then once more places his hand on my shoulder. "You were shaking, I just wanted to see if you're all right."

I laugh quietly and shake my head at him; the rush of adrenaline has made my limbs jittery. "Next time, just use your words."

Turning away for a mere second, he props the shovel against the wall of the mausoleum beside us so that his other hand is free, and puts that one over my left shoulder as he stares down into my face. "I said I'm sorry. Seriously, are you okay?"

Damn it. Even in the dark—in a graveyard, with my nerves shot all to hell—his eyes are still pretty.

Stupid boys.

"Yes. My imagination was getting to me, is all. And then some big goofball scared the bejeezus out of me, but other than that, I'm perfect."


About the Author


A life-long resident of New York, Gerilyn studied art, gymnastics and Tae Kwon Do as a teenager. She has a fascination with ancient civilizations and the mysteries of human origins to which she must feed a steady consumption of interesting documentaries or else it will pick fights with her creative flow. After a brief stint living in Manhattan’s infamous Greenwich Village in her late teens, she returned to the same small town where she grew up and lives there now with her husband, three boys and newly arrived baby girl.

A child of mixed European and Native American descent, she was raised with a healthy respect for the supernatural which was largely thanks to her family’s respect for the well-remembered psychic ability exhibited by her great-grandmother. Her parents, both favoring writing as a hobby, instilled in her a love of reading and writing and nurtured both her sense of humor and her love of the paranormal by filling her head with Mel Brooks films and black and white supernatural horror classics.

Although she wanted to become a writer from the age of fourteen, she did not take herself seriously as any such thing until roughly 2006 when she joined a wide-ranging online amateur writing community for the chance it offered to hone her literary skills. To date she has received eleven awards and seven nominations for her creative work.



Giveaway!


Gerilyn has been generous enough to offer an autographed copy of Buried for Books à la Mode readers! To enter, all you have to do is fill out the Rafflecopter form below :)
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Rules and Disclosure:
Giveaway ends April 1st at 11.59 (your time).
Open internationally! Woohooo!
Winners have 48 hours to claim their prize once they are chosen, or else their prizes will be forfeited.
Although I do select winners, I am in no way responsible for the prizes, nor for shipping and handling.
As a reminder, you do not have to follow my blog to enter, though it is always very much appreciated ❤ Plus, you get extra entries ;)
Good luck!