Happy Friday everyone! It is almost time for Dismantling Evan's release and I feel a lot like this....
4 MORE DAYS and Dismantling Evan will be released into the literary world! I can't wait for you all to read it and experience the characters and story! In honor of that, I am posting the prologue for Dismantling Evan for you right here.
But first, are you going to the release party on Tuesday, January13th?
It is on Facebook (cyber party) so you don't have to go anywhere or dress up (unless you want to) :)
I will be hosting events/giveaways from 12-2 pm cst on the then again with my party coordinator, Amber Garcia from 6-9pm cst! There will be lots of prizes, giveaways, ebooks, and 2 grand prizes given away in honor of the release! I hope you can make it. Go to this link to join the party if you haven't already! https://www.facebook.com/events/1571856906369399/
Spread the word about the release by posting this blog on Facebook, Twitter, and other social networks.
I have made you wait long enough. Happy Reading ~
I peer out the small, shattered multi-faceted glass window. The fractured sun shines through, striking the origami swan he left for me. It isn't enough sunlight to warm my chilled bones. The space around me is simple; wooden bench, wooden table top, two cabinets, a light switch. The countertop is wiped clean of all things except one singular item; evidence of Gavin's life, Brody's, my parents, my friends....my life. His loose-paper, neatly typed journal entries and photo paper lives are captured and stacked in a grey folder I hold tightly against my chest.
The wind blows outside the work-shed, slipping through the porous cracks and crevices of the wooden slats. I want to hush it, make everything around me still, so I can think, but it doesn't matter if the sound exists really because there is no one to disturb; other than me. This shed, even though it is mostly new, has witnessed so much. At least it was saved from seeing what happened to us outside its walls weeks ago.
I relax my grip on the folder, place it on the countertop and sit on a stool in front of it. My fingers play across the hand-written quote - “Not all who wander are lost.”Tolkien's words.
I smile thinking of how fitting it was that Gavin had chosen those words in particular. Everything it held... his family, flawed and breaking apart, his friends, his favorite quotes, his torturers, and the illness that tortured him even more... this journal held it all and the quote suits it. The journal is a testament to his battle - fighting to understand everyone around him, everything around him, and most of all fighting to understand himself.
It so happens I was fighting at the same time; he fought differently, but I couldn't prevent getting wrapped up in the breakdown of it all; the dismantlement.
The sound of the gun, the yelling and screaming, the sirens, the deputy's walkie talkie static prominent in my ears even now. The flashing lights and all the cries...they haunt me still; an echo below the surface of true solid sound. An echo of life as I knew it a few short weeks ago.