Monday, September 08, 2014

What Gifts She Carried Tour: Guest Post & Giveaway!

Today I'm happy to host a stop for What Gifts She Carried Tour, organized by Dark World Books!
(Click on the banner above to see the schedule.)

(The Grave Winner #2)

Leigh Baxton just wants to pick up the pieces of her life—if you could call it that—but someone keeps resurrecting the dead. These new zombies have a knack for spilling Leigh’s precious blood, something she was warned about by a certain pair of undead sorceresses.
Desperate to find out why they’re here so Leigh can put the nightmares behind her, she must learn more about the gifts she carries. With Tram’s training sessions and clues from her mom’s past, Leigh begins to piece together what she’s capable of.
Too bad there isn’t a Cliff’s Notes version to saving the world.
The zombies have teamed up with followers of the darkest sorceress who ever lived, and they’ll play a wicked game until she’s freed from her prison inside the earth. When the battle to the death begins, Leigh must rely on friends, crushes, and even her enemies to win the war, but not the grave.

Amazon (Kindle) - Amazon (Paperback) - Barnes & Noble
Add What Gifts She Carried to your Goodreads list!

*Check also "The Grave Winner" (Book #1)*

(The Grave Winner #1)

Leigh Baxton is terrified her mom will come back from the dead—just like the prom queen did.
While the town goes beehive over the news, Leigh bikes to the local cemetery and buries some of her mom’s things in her grave to keep her there. When the hot and mysterious caretaker warns her not to give gifts to the dead, Leigh cranks up her punk music and keeps digging.
She should have listened.
Two dead sorceresses evicted the prom queen from her grave to bury someone who offered certain gifts. Bury them alive, that is, then resurrect them to create a trio of undead powerful enough to free the darkest sorceress ever from her prison inside the earth.
With help from the caretaker and the dead prom queen, Leigh must find out what’s so special about the gifts she gave, and why the sorceresses are stalking her and her little sister. If she doesn’t, she’ll either lose another loved one or have to give the ultimate gift to the deadherself.

Amazon US - Amazon UK
Buy your copy now at a very special price!


Lindsey R. Loucks works as a school librarian in rural Kansas. When she’s not discussing books with anyone who will listen, she’s dreaming up her own stories. Eventually her brain gives out, and she’ll play hide and seek with her cat, put herself in a chocolate induced coma, or watch scary movies alone in the dark to reenergize. She’s been with her significant other for almost two decades.


Since I’m writing a series that largely takes place in a graveyard, it might come as no surprise that I like visiting them in my spare time. They’re a somber yet peaceful place to contemplate life’s mysteries and certainties while paying my respects to the dead.
Peaceful, except that one time.
Don’t tell anyone, but when I was a teenager, a group of three friends and I snuck into a graveyard. At night. When nothing bad ever happens. Yeah, right.
The gate wasn’t locked when the sign said it should be, so like some kind of tantalizing beacon, that unlocked gate lured us all the way across town and past its squeaky hinges. None of us could help it. We’d all been born with T for Trouble branded onto our foreheads.
We were positively giddy with fearful excitement, but between the giggles, the shhh’s, and the “I have to pee!”’s, the graveyard waited, silent. Thick clouds and the cover of trees blocked much of the moonlight, but we crept onward, positive we would be caught at any second.
While my friends had a whispered conversation about whether reincarnation was real, I continued past them a little ways. My gaze landed on a tilted headstone, and a wintry dread lowered into the pit of my stomach. I knew what a tilted headstone meant—that the dead had risen. I’d read a book about that very subject, and as a teen, everything I read was true.
“Guys,” I hissed, but their discussion had grown heated and they didn’t hear me. “Hey, g—”
A twig somewhere to our right snapped.
There were no horrific looks, no gasps, no questions. The four of us just shot for the gate in a blur of movement.
And the car we arrived in had a flat tire. No joke. We kept running all the way past the video store parking lot to the street where we tried to flag someone down to help us. No one stopped. 
Since we didn’t want to be picked up by the police, we speed-walked through shadowed yards to my friend’s house and tried to help her come up with an excuse so she could explain to her dad why her car was parked outside the graveyard. We kept glancing behind us the whole way.
Was the tilted headstone the result of the undead? How about that snapped twig? The flat tire? And what about the person who was supposed to lock the gate in the first place? Where was he? We never found out any of it because we never went back to that graveyard.
True story.

Up for grabs are 1 printed copy of "The Grave Winner" + swag and 1 E-copy of "The Grave Winner"!!
Fill the Rafflecopter form below and good luck everyone! :)
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