I slapped my pencil to my papers, my forehead to my palm. My frustration with human-kind had reached its pinnacle hours before but ratcheted even higher as someone rattled the gates, girls giggled and dares to enter the cemetery from crackly-voiced, chicken boys reached me. I yanked my hair into a tail, twisted the strands around a Cerulean blue pencil and stabbed random colors into the knot for safe keeping. A swipe of my hand through the air brought the drawing tools back up. A night that should have been mine.Ī gust of wind pushed my sketchpad to my knees, flung hair against my cheeks and sent my colored pencils tumbling. Good ole ‘Sam’ decomposed underneath the largest oak in Primrose Cemetery-a spot no human would visit at night except on Halloween. Wilson, someone’s ‘beloved father and son resting in peace,’ craving solitude and stressing like a vampire on a blood fast. Made the mistake of reading the first paragraph - and I have not been able to put my iPad down since!”Įndless screams. “Talk about can't put down.I accidentally opened this one instead of the book I was scheduled to read. “Awesome beyond awesome! For lovers of YA Paranormal, this is a MUST READ!!!” It was like two magnets finally finding each other and connecting.” “Winn and Mac were perfect for each other in every way possible.
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