Raven's Ghost - Raven's Shadow Book 2 by R.L. Weeks Book Tour and Giveaway :)
Raven's Ghost
Raven's
Shadow Book 2
by
R.L. Weeks
Genre:
YA Paranormal Mystery
Award
Winning author, R. L. Weeks, brings you Raven's Ghost - Book Two in
the Young Adult Victorian Paranormal Mystery Series.
Another
serial killer is raising hell on the streets of London and Raven
believes it's all her fault. All the victims have blonde hair and
blue eyes like her, and the killer is none other than her uncle.
His
mind had been warped and twisted by heartbreak and betrayal and his
hatred for women is driving him to kill more and more each
week.
Raven
wants to stop him at all costs. However, there is one big problem
standing in her way. No one can see, hear, or feel her.
With
the help of her new friend, Elizabeth, and Emmett who is desperately
trying to contact Raven's Ghost, can Raven find her way back from the
other side to save the world from the notorious serial killer?
Or
will the Shadow Men, drawn back to their world by darkness, fade her
away before she get's the chance?
November
27th,
1861
I
sit at the stool and marvel at the mahogany structure in front of me.
Father converted
our spare room into a music room two years ago. Father loves to play the
piano. I mean, he loved
to
play the piano and no longer loves,
for
he no longer
is.
Like everyone else in my family, apart from Grandmother and my uncle,
he is dead. I
lift the heavy lid, and a row of ivory keys greet me. Father ensured
that our piano
had a cast iron frame installed when it was bought. According to him,
it gives
a more powerful sound. Father was a very smart man. I
suck in a deep breath and dangle my legs off the stool. I tap the
heels of my
black,
shiny shoes together. My feet can almost reach the ground now. Soon,
I will
be nine years old, and I will be able to play the piano much better
than Lissy,
who lives down the road. Although, her mother doesn’t want her
playing with
me anymore. Apparently, I’m weird. Tears
blur my vision as I realise for the first time that I will be turning
nine
without
Father. I
miss his sparkling blue eyes and “moments of madness,” as
Grandmother
called
them. Father is…I mean, was,
the
owner of a wool factory. Father said that
his factory was one of the first to recognise a union,
whatever that is, and his workers
were paid fairly. He was very proud of his factory which is now owned his
adopted brother who I’ve never met. All the workers live in small
houses in our
small town of Cogsworth.
I
used to sneak off and look at the factory after school. Sparks and
flames would
light up the sky that had been darkened by smoke from the chimneys. I used
to watch the children that worked at his factory sit on the old
wooden fence and
eat their dinners before going back to finish their long day. I
look down at my little fingers and wonder if I will be put to work
now that he
is dead. Grandmother
says not to worry, that father has left us more than enough money
and that we have enough to last us for the rest of our lives, but I
am much younger
than her. I
must find a good husband when I am grown up. I just hope Grandmother lives
long enough for me to marry. If not, I may end up desperate and poor,
without
anything in the world. I am, after all, an orphan now, and world is
not kind
to orphans. I know this much from the books I sneak from
Grandmother’s shelves.
You see, Grandmother always hides the harsh truths from me, unlike Father,
who always told me the truth, even when I didn’t want to hear it.
He always
said that the most important gifts he had been graced with by God
were his
integrity and honest tongue. I
look up at the door and smile at him. “My
dear,” my grandmother says crisply. She walks through Father and
sits on the
futon. “I know it has been hard with losing both your parents in
one year, but you
still have me, and I will always be here for you.” I
give her a “mmm” and hover my fingers over the keys of the piano.
I don’t want
to talk about my parent’s deaths right now. I don’t have time. “I
am about to
play a song.” Her
thin lips crack into a small smile. She nods for me to play, but the
song is not
for her. It is for Father. He has been standing in the doorway waiting for me to
play for almost ten minutes. He is almost transparent and taps his
watch, pushing
me to hurry. What
if I do not play my goodbye well enough for him? How can I put all
the words
and memories I wished for us to have into just one small song? I
elaborate when she does not leave. “I am playing a song for Father,
not you. I
must make sure I get it right. I want to play it only for his ears.”
Her
eyes, a paler blue than mine or Father’s, widen. “Raven…” She
pauses and
fiddles with the cameo necklace around her neck. “Your father, my
poor son, is
not coming back. He is with God now. I have told you this. You must
accept it.” I
shake my head and look at Father. He tilts his head slightly to the
left and drops
his arms to his side. “No
Grandmother. Father is standing right there. He has to go soon, but
he is waiting
for me to play for him.” I
press down three keys and hold my breath so I do not tremble. I start
the
lullaby
that I used to play with Father. I
have decided that it is most appropriate; it will be a goodnight to
him and my life
with him. Grandmother
marches over to me and grabs my arm. I miss a note and look up at
her furiously. “No!”
I shout and fall off the stool. I try to wriggle free, but she pulls
me across
the cold floorboards. “No!
Grandmother, please. I must finish!” “Stop
being ridiculous, Raven. There are no such things as ghosts.”
I
pull down on her fingers and accidentally pull off her wedding ring.
I grasp it
in my sweaty palms. I see Father look sadly at us before turning
away. “No!
Father, No!”
I
look at the door with desperation as he fades away. “Father!”
I scream. Grandmother’s grip remains tight on my arm, and I pull with
all my might. “I hate you. You made him leave.” A lump forms in
my throat as
despair grips me. “He’s gone.” “Enough,
child,” she says and tightens her grip. I
kick my legs and scream and scream until my screams are silent. I
feel nothing
but rage as I kneel on the floorboards holding Grandmother’s ring. Suddenly,
the room twists around me, and everything fades to black. The
room looks different. The walls are plastered with cream paper
instead of the
normal pale blue and gold. Grandmother
sits with my dead grandfather. They both look younger. A boy plays
on the floor with a wooden horse. He is only four of five years old.
His eyes
sparkle with the same blue color as Father’s. Grandmother
plays with her wedding ring. I look down at the same ring in my hand,
and my eyebrows knit together. The
boy runs out of the room with a mischievous smile. Grandmother runs after
him, laughing. “Jameson, get back here,” she says through her
laughter. The
memory fades from me as I feel the ring topple from my hand onto the floorboards. “Raven?” I
open my eyes and look into my Grandmother’s hard expression. “Raven,
are you okay?” Tears have formed in her eyes. I
can feel the pain from where her nails were digging into me. “You
seemed happier
when you ran after Father in this room. When he was a boy,” I said
in clarification. Grandmother’s
worried expression is replaced with one I have never seen on her:
fear. “You and your imagination.” I
pick up her ring and give it back to her. I stand up and rub my arm.
“I saw it. He
was playing with a wooden horse. I think it was real,” I say. I am
as confused
by
the memory as she is. “It felt real.” The
colour leaves her face. “He must have told you about the wooden
horse.” I
shake my head. “This
is the last time we can let this happen.” Strands of her hair have
freed themselves
from her tight bun and now dangle wildly around her face. “Nora!” She
calls for our maid. I
look at her as she runs in the room, looking flushed. “Yes, Ma’am.” “Take
Raven to her room and do not let anyone in the house,” Grandmother orders. Nora
Bonetta, whose skin is much darker than ours, looks at me curiously.
“Is the
child okay?” Grandmother
paces around in a circle. “I have seen this happen before, and it is
happening again. We cannot have another Alice,” she says and stops
in front of
me. She pushes me over to Nora. “We must not let her out the house.
If anyone
finds out what she is…” Nora
nods, seeming to understand what I do not.
Who
is this girl—I have forgotten her name already—that we cannot
have another
of, and what am I?
Raven's Sight
Raven's
Shadow Book 1
Award
Winning author, R. L. Weeks, brings you Raven's Sight - a Young Adult
Victorian Paranormal Mystery. Book One can be read as a standalone
and as part of the series.
Raven
looks out over the small, industrial town of Cogsworth and imagines a
life beyond the confines of her Grandmother's mansion.
However,
Raven holds a dark secret that prevents her from leaving. One which
comes to light after her father's untimely death. Now an orphan,
Raven must do her best to hide her gifts of sight if she's to survive
the cruel Victorian society she lives in.
However,
when a ghost of a child comes to her for help, Raven finds herself in
the gas lit streets of London, on the trail of a female serial
killer. As she tries to solve the string of murders, she realizes
that the murders are almost identical to those from a case left
unsolved years before she was born.
In
a race against time, Raven is thrown into a world she doesn't know.
With her crush, Tom, now a ghost, her friend, Emmett, now a suspect,
and an uncle who runs illicit groups and hates women, Raven will have
to unravel the mysteries quickly before she becomes their next
victim.
R L Weeks is the bestselling and award-winning author of the Dead Loves Life Series, Bloodlust, The Fallen, Willow Woods Academy for Witches, Cursed, and the owner of Enchanted Anthologies, publisher of Fractured Fairytales Books 1 & 2, A Deadly World: Vampires in Paris, Things Only the Darkness Knows, and Christmas Nightmares.
She
lives in a small village in the UK.
When
she's not writing, she's traveling, reading (paranormal, fantasy and
horror being her go to genres) and designing covers for Dark Wish
Designs.
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the tour HERE
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