Welcome to my stop on the blog tour for What The Flower Says Of Death! I hope you enjoy the excerpt at the bottom of the post. And I hope you check out all the wonderful stops on this tour!
Violet Holt has already met Death once.
After a failed suicide attempt, she finds herself dumped by her callous mother on the
doorstep of her family’s desolate oceanside estate. With only the company of her estranged grandmother, comatose grandfather, and the monsters in her head, at least there was no one to interfere with her plans to try againon her eighteenth birthday.
No one, except maybe Jack: a skeleton of a boy who says he’s there to rake her grandmother’s leaves, yet seems more experienced at stalking than grounds-keeping. She knows he’s keeping a secret behind his gentle smiles and aloofness, but it’s difficult for Violet to be put off by his untimely thin-air appearances when figuring out the mystery of his true identity makes for such a good distraction.
Violet’s trauma is deeper than the wound on her wrist though, and it cannot be simply whisked away in a whirlwind of guessing games and pleasant gestures. She struggles to reconnect with her grandmother, find forgiveness for her mother, and closure with her grandfather’s dire condition, all while battling the strain of it all on her family. Even with a flicker of something hopeful blossoming within herself, Violet knows her birthday plans must be inevitable.
Death wouldn’t be there for her if it wasn’t.
My throat was tight, painful, and choking, a knot in my esophagus that throbbed with every pound of my pulse. I escaped the house to try and breathe again, and my wandering feet followed the pull of my aching heart, like a bird drawn to migrate south without a sense of why.
The stormy waves frothed foamy white far out in the violent waters, but calmed as they approached the coast, reaching out to caress the sand like a lover’s fingers across a cheek, then pulling away. A forever unsatisfying romance between the water and the land. I could taste their
romance in the air, misty and moist, salt on my tongue and tangled through my hair.
I sat there for hours, letting the sound of their love calm me. The clenching in my throat released as the sun dipped under the gray clouds and touched the horizon. A chill set in when the rising water threatened to kiss my feet; I shivered and wrapped my sweater tighter around
me, wondering what it would be like to keep sitting there and let the ocean take me away with it as the tide retreated again in a few hours.
I stood, watching the waves approach my toes, teasing close then drawing away, a curled finger beckoning me to follow. I kicked off my runners and discarded my socks, then took a step forward, meeting the water with its next approach.