Blog Tour: How She Died, How I Lived by Mary Crockett

 

Hi guys, and welcome to our tour stop for How She Died, How I Lived by Mary Crockett. I am super excited to be on the blog tour for this book. Sit back, read my review and don't forget to add this book to your Goodreads shelves. Oh, and don't forget to enter the giveaway below!

Book Details
Title: HOW SHE DIED, HOW I LIVED

Author: Mary Crockett

Pub. Date: November 13, 2018

Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers 

Formats: Hardcover, Paperback, eBook, audiobook

Pages: 416
🌟🌟🌟🌟

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, Audible, B&N, iBooks, TBD

Synopsis: I was one of five. The five girls Kyle texted that day. The girls it could have been. Only Jamie--beautiful, saintly Jamie--was kind enough to respond. And it got her killed.

On the eve of Kyle's sentencing a year after Jamie's death, all the other "chosen ones" are coping in various ways. But our tenacious narrator is full of anger, stuck somewhere between the horrifying past and the unknown future as she tries to piece together why she gets to live, while Jamie is dead.

Now she finds herself drawn to Charlie, Jamie's boyfriend--knowing all the while that their relationship will always be haunted by what-ifs and why-nots. Is hope possible in the face of such violence? Is forgiveness? How do you go on living when you know it could have been you instead?

Book Review
I wasn't sure what to expect with this book. It looked interesting and like one I would enjoy, but I wasn't sold on it immediately. My reading has been non-existent this month, so I was worried that the first book I read this month would be a disappointment. I wasn't expecting a book like this. Sure parts of it were dark and sad, but it was also full of forgiveness and realizing that it was okay to live life like normal and be happy that you were still alive.

I've dealt with what is called "survivor's guilt" myself, so I understood our main character and her struggle with it. She was one of a handful of girls the homicidal maniac texted on the day he eventually killed Jamie. How could she not feel so much guilt for still being alive when sweet Jamie was dead? I could not even imagine what she went through, knowing that if she had just met up with Kyle Paxton when he asked, she would be the dead one. Not Jamie.

Our main character goes through a lot of conflicting emotions in this book and Crockett does an awesome job at showing us, rather than telling us. As the reader, I could see our main character going through so much, along with the other girls. The only other one that we get to know really well is Lindsay, and I really liked her. Her home life & parental involvement was a sharp contrast to our main character. Lindsay's mother was barely around and I couldn't imagine going through all of this and not having the parental support. At least our main character had support from her parents.

I was not sure how I'd feel about our main character's romance with Jamie's boyfriend. I was worried our main character was going to be hurt by him. I was also worried that it would be toxic & troubling because both Charlie and our main character had been through so much since that fateful day. I actually really liked them together. Sure, Charlie pulled disappearing acts sometimes, but he always came back.

The only thing I would say this book needed was a bit more character development for the secondary characters. Our main character, Charlie and Lindsay were all developed well, but the rest of them could definitely have had more development. Overall, this book was really good, definitely a "quiet YA" that YA contemporary lovers need to read.

About the Author

A native of the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, Mary grew up as the youngest of six children in a family of misfits. She has worked as everything from a history museum director to a toilet seat hand model.

In her other life, she's an award-winning poet and teaches creative writing at Roanoke College in Virginia.

If you tweet at her, chances are she will tweet back.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Tumblr | Pinterest |  Goodreads

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tour Schedule

Week One:

11/12/2018- Here's to Happy Endings- Review

11/13/2018- A Dream Within A Dream- Review

11/14/2018- Novel Novice- Excerpt

11/15/2018- Bri's Book Nook- Review

11/16/2018- Pretty Deadly Reviews- Review

Week Two:

11/19/2018- The Desert Bibliophile- Review

11/20/2018- Lifestyle of Me- Review

11/21/2018- Moonlight Rendezvous- Review

11/22/2018- Savings in Seconds- Review

11/23/2018- Cindy's Love of Books- Review

Blog Tour: Sadie by Courtney Summers

Hi guys! We're here to talk up Courtney Summers' recent release, Sadie! I became a fan of Summers' books just a few years ago. So when I was approached to be part of the blog tour for Sadie, I jumped at the chance to promote the hell out of this book. I am writing this post in August, so hopefully by now, I've also finished my eARC of this book.

Goodreads

Excerpt

THE GIRLS

EPISODE 1

[THE GIRLS THEME]

WEST McCRAY: Welcome to Cold Creek, Colorado. Population: eight hundred.

Do a Google Image search and you’ll see its main street, the barely beating heart of that tiny world, and find  every other building vacant or boarded up. Cold Creek’s luckiest— the gainfully employed— work at the local grocery store, the gas station\ and a few other staple businesses along the strip. The rest have to look a town or two over for opportunity for themselves and for their  children; the closest schools are in Parkdale, forty minutes away. They take in students from three other towns.

Beyond its main street, Cold Creek arteries out into worn and chipped Monopoly houses that no longer have a place upon the board. From  there lies a rural sort of wilderness. The highway out is interrupted by veins of dirt roads leading to nowhere as often as they lead to pockets of dilapidated houses or trailer parks in even worse shape. In the summertime, a food bus comes with  free lunches for the kids  until the school year resumes, guaranteeing at least two subsidized meals a day.

 There’s a quiet to it that’s startling if  you’ve lived your  whole life in the city, like I have. Cold Creek is surrounded by a beautiful, uninterrupted expanse of land and sky that seem to go on forever. Its sunsets are spectacular; electric golds and oranges, pinks and purples, natural beauty unspoiled by the insult of skyscrapers. The sheer amount of space is humbling, almost divine. It’s hard to imagine feeling trapped here.

But most people here do.

COLD CREEK RESIDENT [FEMALE]: You live in Cold Creek  because you  were born  here and if you’re born  here, you’re probably never getting out.

WEST McCRAY: That’s not entirely true.  There have been some success stories, college graduates who moved on and found well- paying jobs in distant cities, but they tend to be the exception and not the rule. Cold Creek is home to a quality of life  we’re raised to aspire beyond, if  we’re born privileged enough to have the choice.

 Here, every one’s working so hard to care for their families and keep their heads above  water that, if they wasted time on the petty dramas, scandals and personal grudges that seem to define small towns in our nation’s imagination, they would not survive. That’s not to say  there’s no drama, scandal, or 

grudge— just that  those  things are usually more than residents of Cold Creek can afford to care about.

 Until it happened.

The husk of an abandoned, turn- of- the- century one- room school house sits three miles outside of town, taken by fire. The roof is caved in and what’s left of the walls are charred. It sits next to an apple orchard that’s slowly being reclaimed by the nature that surrounds it: young overgrowth, new trees, wildflowers.

There’s almost something romantic about it, something that feels like respite from the rest of the world. It’s the perfect place to be alone with your thoughts. At least it was, before May Beth Foster— who you’ll come to know as this series goes on— took me there herself. I asked to see it. She’s a plump, white, sixty- eight- year- old woman with salt- and- pepper hair. She has a grandmotherly way about her, right down to a voice that’s so invitingly familiar it warms you from the inside out. May Beth is manager of Sparkling River Estates trailer park, a lifelong resident of Cold Creek, and when she talks, people listen. More often than not, they accept what ever she says as the truth.

MAY BETH FOSTER: Just about . . . here.

This is where they found the body.

911 DISPATCHER [PHONE]: 911 dispatch. What’s your emergency?

About the Author

Courtney Summers was born in Belleville, Ontario, 1986. At age 14, she dropped out of high school. At age 18, she wrote her first novel. Cracked Up to Be was published in 2008, when she was 22 and went on to win the 2009 CYBIL award in YA fiction. Since then, she’s published four more critically acclaimed books: Some Girls Are, Fall for Anything, This is Not a Test and All the Rage, as well as an e-novella, Please Remain Calmwhich is a sequel to This is Not a Test. Her new novel, Sadie, hits bookstores September 4th, 2018 and is available for preorder now. In 2016, Courtney was named one of Flare Magazine’s 60 under 30. 

Blog Tour: Sky in the Deept by Adrienne Young

I recently had the pleasure of reading an early copy of Sky in the Deep by Adrienne Young and thought it was fantastic. I loved the world and the mythology and of course, the focus on family. There were bloody battles and warrior women and everything about Eelyn. You can see all my thoughts on my review, here. Today I'm sharing an excerpt of this awesome Norse-inspired story!

---

Sky in the Deep by Adrienne Young
Published by Wednesday Books on April 24th, 2018
Genres: fantasy
Pages: 352
Format: eARC
Source: Publisher
Goodreads
🌟🌟🌟🌟
OND ELDR. BREATHE FIRE.

Raised to be a warrior, seventeen-year-old Eelyn fights alongside her Aska clansmen in an ancient rivalry against the Riki clan. Her life is brutal but simple: fight and survive. Until the day she sees the impossible on the battlefield—her brother, fighting with the enemy—the brother she watched die five years ago.

Faced with her brother's betrayal, she must survive the winter in the mountains with the Riki, in a village where every neighbor is an enemy, every battle scar possibly one she delivered. But when the Riki village is raided by a ruthless clan thought to be a legend, Eelyn is even more desperate to get back to her beloved family.

She is given no choice but to trust Fiske, her brother’s friend, who sees her as a threat. They must do the impossible: unite the clans to fight together, or risk being slaughtered one by one. Driven by a love for her clan and her growing love for Fiske, Eelyn must confront her own definition of loyalty and family while daring to put her faith in the people she’s spent her life hating.

---

Excerpt

“I saw him. I saw Iri.”
He wrapped the torn cloth around my arm, tying it tight. “What are you talking about?”
I pushed his hands from me, crying. “Listen to me! Iri was
here! I saw him!”
His hands finally stilled, confusion lighting in his eyes. “I was fighting a man. He was about to . . .” I shuddered,
remembering how close to death I’d come—closer than I’d ever been. “Iri came out of the fog and saved me. He was with the Riki.” I stood, taking his hand and pulling him toward the tree line. “We have to find him!”
But my father stood like a stone tucked into the earth. His face turned up toward the sky, his eyes blinking against the sunlight.
“Do you hear me? Iri’s alive!” I shouted, holding my arm against my body to calm the violent throbbing around the gash.
His eyes landed on me again, tears gathered at the cor- ners like little white flames. “Sigr. He sent Iri’s soul to save you, Eelyn.”
“What? No.”
“Iri’s made it to Sólbjǫrg.” His words were frightening and delicate, betraying a tenderness my father never showed. He stepped forward, looking down into my eyes with a smile. “Sigr has favored you, Eelyn.”
Mýra stood behind him, her green eyes wide beneath her unraveling auburn braids.
“But—” I choked. “I saw him.”
“You did.” A single tear rolled down my father’s rough cheek and disappeared into his beard. He pulled me into him, wrapping his arms around me, and I closed my eyes, the pain in my arm so great now that I could hardly feel my hand.
I blinked, trying to understand. I had seen him. He was
there.
“We will make a sacrifice tonight.” He let me go before he pressed his hands to my face again. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you scream for me like that. You scared me, sváss.” A laugh was buried deep in his chest.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I just . . . I thought . . .”
He waited for me to meet his eyes again. “His soul is at peace. Your brother saved your life today. Be happy.” He clapped a hand against my good arm, nearly knocking me down.
I wiped at my wet cheeks with the palm of my hand, turn- ing from the faces that were still watching me. There were very few times I’d cried in front of my clansmen. It made me feel small. Weak, like the early winter grass beneath our boots.
I sniffed back the tears, piecing my face back together as my father nodded in approval. It was what he had taught me—to be strong. To steel myself. He turned back to the field, getting to work, and I followed with Mýra, trying to smooth my ragged breath. To hush the waves crashing in my head. We walked toward our camp, collecting the weapons of fallen Aska warriors along the way. I watched my father from the corner of my eye, still unable to shake Iri’s face from my mind.
My feet stopped at the edge of a puddle and I looked at my reflection. Dirt spattered across my angled face and neck. Blood dried in long, golden braids. Eyes a frozen blue, like Iri’s. I sucked in a breath, looking up to the thin white clouds brushed across the sky to keep another tear from falling.
“Here,” Mýra called to me from where she was crouched over an Aska woman. She was lying on her side, eyes open and arms extended like she was reaching for us.
I carefully unbuckled her belt and scabbard, piling them with the others before I started on the armor vest. “Did you know her?”
“A little.” Mýra reached down to close the woman’s eyes with her fingertips. She gently brushed the hair back from her face before she began, the words coming softly. “Aska, you have reached your journey’s end.”
In the next breath, I joined with her, saying the ritual words we knew by heart. “We ask Sigr to accept your soul into Sólbjǫrg, where the long line of our people hold torches on the shadowed path.”
My voice faded, letting Mýra speak first. “Take my love to my father and my sister. Ask them to keep watch for me. Tell them my soul follows behind you.”
I closed my eyes as the prayer found a familiar place on my tongue. “Take my love to my mother and my brother. Ask them to keep watch for me. Tell them my soul follows behind you.”
I swallowed down the lump in my throat before I opened my eyes and looked down into the woman’s peaceful face one more time. I hadn’t been able to say the words over Iri’s body the way I had when my mother died, but Sigr had taken him anyway.
“Have you ever seen something like that before?” I whis- pered. “Something that wasn’t real?”
Mýra blinked. “It was real. Iri’s soul is real.”
“But he was older—a man. He spoke to me. He touched
me, Mýra.”
She stood, shifting an armful of axes up onto her shoul- der. “I was there that day, Eelyn. Iri died. I saw it with my own eyes. That was real.” It was the same battle that took Mýra’s sister. We’d been friends before that day, but we hadn’t really needed each other until then.
I remembered it so clearly—the picture of him like a re- flection on ice. Iri’s lifeless body at the bottom of the trench. Lying across the perfect white snow, blood seeping out around him in a melted pool. I could still see his blond hair fanned out around his head, his empty eyes wide open and staring into nothing.
“I know.”
Mýra reached up, squeezing my shoulder. “Then you know it wasn’t Iri—not his flesh.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. I prayed for Iri’s soul every day. If Sigr had sent him to protect me, he really was in Sólbjǫrg—our people’s final sunset. “I knew he would make it.” I breathed through the tightness in my throat.
“We all did.” A small smile lifted on her lips.
I looked back down to the woman lying between us. We would leave her as she was—as she died—with honor. Like we did with all our fallen warriors.
Like we’d left Iri.
“Was he as handsome as he was before?” Mýra’s smile turned wry as her eyes flickered back up to meet mine.
“He was beautiful,” I whispered.

---

About the Author

Adrienne Young is a born and bred Texan turned California girl. She is a foodie with a deep love of history and travel and a shameless addiction to coffee. When she’s not writing, you can find her on her yoga mat, scouring antique fairs for old books, sipping wine over long dinners, or disappearing into her favorite art museums. She lives with her documentary filmmaker husband and their four little wildlings beneath the West Coast sun.

Website  | Twitter | Facebook
Instagram  | Pinterest