I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the BLUEBIRD AT MY WINDOW by H. Noah Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out
my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
About The Book:
Author: H. Noah
Pub. Date: February 15, 2022
Publisher: H. Noah
Formats: Papreback, eBook
Pages: 394
Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, Kindle, B&N, TBD, Bookshop.org
When faced with trauma, how would you react?
Would you survive, succumb, or lose yourself to your own meaning of justice?
Ann was only seventeen when she died. She tried to be a dutiful daughter, to
pray, to repent. But it wasn’t enough. Her mother, Diane, didn’t mean to kill
her but when she found Ann consorting with devils, she had no choice. She
believed the angels—that in the end, the water would save them both.
But every choice holds weight.
One death, and Arthur is thrown back into the work he wanted to leave. One
death, and Richard must face the reality of his choices. One death, and Maddie
and Marie are confronted with the hardest parts of love.
If only good intentions were enough to keep them from the carnage of their own
decisions . . .
A dark contemporary fiction drenched in blood, this debut novel from H. Noah
has an intricate true crime feeling with psychological depth.
Content Warning
The following book centers around processing trauma. Please be aware that it
will touch upon such topics as violence, sexual assault (not overly
descriptive), racism, microaggressions, misogyny, incest, and homophobia. This
book also focuses on mental health and will cover depression, anxiety, PTSD,
suicidal ideation, hearing voices, religious fixations, delusions, self-harm,
and drug abuse.
This book is dark due to the topics covered. This is not a horror or thriller
meant to scare you. Please be kind to yourself and put the book back if you are
not in a good place to read any of the things mentioned above.
Excerpt
Chapter 1
Portland, Maine
Friday, October 14, 2016
Diane Loucks
The water
swelled like a second skin around her fingers. Thick flesh-colored tendrils,
clinging to the newly pure.
Light
scattered through the small window, burning white hot across the chipped tile,
curled wallpaper, and filth. Everything within this small house on a hill still
festered with the sin of her—my daughter.
She’d fought
me as she always had. Her arm draped over the side of the old claw tub, almost
at ease, even bent back at an odd angle. I’d forgotten to turn off the water
completely, but I couldn’t get up. I was fixed against the ground, watching as
the water gathered and fell from her pale fingertips. No more rush, no more
panic. Each drop reached slowly to the floor, hitting the tile with a soft pink
splash.
It was done.
My naked
flesh numbed to the bitter tile as I lay at the tub’s feet. Each fold of skin
stretched, suctioning to the floor, holding me in place. Something had gone
wrong in the blessing. I’d stripped myself in preparation but she’d refused,
made me pull clothing to ribbons as I blessed the water.
When she
didn’t wake up, I’d called the preacher. Tried to understand what had happened,
why the angels had lied.
But he was
useless.
That’s when
I slid to the floor, streaking the wall behind me with her blood. Ichor that
still clung to my skin and the floor beneath.
Fraud. Liar.
You did the
right thing.
It
should have worked.
It did.
Pure!
Why didn’t it work?
She’s clean now. The preacher was unholy.
Why hasn’t she risen?
You were the unclean one.
The scream
ripped from within me. I wanted quiet, needed it. I scratched my ears, ripping
my body from the tile.
The pain
worked, but not well enough.
I slammed
knuckles into my skull.
Not enough.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
My skull
reverberated against the hard ceramic. The sharp ache purified, but didn’t
silence. So I kept crashing into it as skin split across my forehead, turning
my vision burgundy. It gave me something to focus on, to control.
The demons
didn’t like that.
I could hear
them in the walls, closing around me. Devils playing tricks as they reached
from beneath the wallpaper, touching. I thrashed against them all, gouging
holes into the small space. Drywall fingers ripped through flesh as my blood
seeped and spilled to the floor, covering hers. The air was suffocating,
poisoned, thick, and sandy.
They wanted
to silence me.
But still I
screamed.
They wanted
me quiet, malleable to their will.
Everyone
did.
I wanted to
fracture the foundation.
About H. Noah:
They’ve been
a massage therapist, social worker, poet, teacher, and more. Picking up a B.A.
in Criminology and an M.S. in I-O Psychology. They’ve also lived in Alaska,
Maine and many places in-between. They are currently still trying to find a
forever place as they travel the US.
Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | TikTok | Goodreads | Amazon | BookBub
Giveaway Details:
1 winner will receive a $10 Amazon Gift Card, International.
a Rafflecopter giveawayTour Schedule:
Week One:
|
2/7/2022 |
Kickoff Post |
|
|
2/7/2022 |
IG Post |
|
|
2/8/2022 |
Guest Post/IG Post |
|
|
2/8/2022 |
Excerpt |
|
|
2/9/2022 |
Excerpt |
|
|
2/9/2022 |
Guest Post |
|
|
2/10/2022 |
Excerpt/IG Post |
|
|
2/10/2022 |
Review |
|
|
2/11/2022 |
Review |
|
|
2/11/2022 |
Review |
Week Two:
|
2/14/2022 |
Review |
|
|
2/14/2022 |
Review |
|
|
2/15/2022 |
Excerpt /IG Post |
|
|
2/15/2022 |
IG Spotlight |
|
|
2/16/2022 |
Excerpt/IG Post |
|
|
2/16/2022 |
Review |
|
|
2/17/2022 |
Review |
|
|
2/17/2022 |
Excerpt |
|
|
2/18/2022 |
Review |
|
|
2/18/2022 |
Spotlight |
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.