Welcome to Two Chicks on Books!!!

Thanks for stopping by! I'm here to share all things Bookish and also news about Movies, TV Shows, and even Video Games I love! I love to read your comments :)

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

Blog Tour- THE CRESSWELL PLOT Paperback by Eliza Wass A Deleted Scene & Giveaway!


Hey everyone! I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the blog tour for THE CRESSWELL PLOT Paperback  by Eliza Wass! 

I have a deleted scene to share with you today! And make sure to enter the giveaway below!


Haven't heard of THE CRESSWELL PLOT? Check it out!



Title: THE CRESSWELL PLOT Paperback
Author: Eliza Wass
Pub. Date: October 10, 2017
Publisher: Disney Press
Pages: 48
Formats: Paperback
Find it: AmazonB&N,  TBDGoodreads
The woods were insane in the dark, terrifying and magical at the same time. But best of all were the stars, which trumpeted their light into the misty dark. Castella Cresswell and her five siblings-Hannan, Caspar, Mortimer, Delvive, and Jerusalem- know what it's like to be different. For years, their world has been confined to their ramshackle family home deep in the woods of upstate New York. They abide by the strict rule of God, whose messages come directly from their father.

Slowly, Castley and her siblings start to test the boundaries of the laws that bind them. But, at school, they're still the freaks they've always been to the outside world. Marked by their plain clothing. Unexplained bruising. Utter isolation from their classmates. That is, until Castley is forced to partner with the totally irritating, totally normal George Gray, who offers her a glimpse of a life filled with freedom and choice. 

Castley's world rapidly expands beyond the woods she knows so well and the beliefs she once thought were the only truths. There is a future waiting for her if she can escape her father's grasp, but Castley refuses to leave her siblings behind. Just as she begins to form a plan, her father makes a chilling announcement: the Cresswells will soon return to their home in heaven. With time running out on all of their lives, Castley must expose the depth of her father's lies. The forest has buried the truth in darkness for far too long. Castley might be their last hope for salvation.
Now on to the scene!

Okay, so, I am prefacing all my posts with saying I am currently hiking the Santiago Trail in Spain with my parents, 570 miles over 30 days, firstly because it’s so cool and secondly because my thoughts might be a bit scattered!
So this is the opening scene from the original version of the book, which was written from Amity’s perspective. What an opening line! : )

Three months before the world ended, at least for the Cresswells, I moved to Almsrand, New York.
As my dad and I drove into Almsrand from Greater Binghampton Airport, he rolled the radio dial back and forth between two stationsone was a sleazy chat station and the other was a religious sermon. I followed the wires winding from the mouth of the radio to a black box beneath my seat.
“What is this?” I nudged the box with my foot. My dad put his hand out to stop me.
The radio crackled.
 “Ms. Simmons again. She says she lost her cat. I didnt have the heart to tell her the damn things been dead for years. Should I send someone over?”
My dad raised his eyebrows at me and turned up the volume so the sound filled the car.
“Last time we sent someone, she attacked them with a baseball bat. Thought they were a burglar.”
“That was you, wasn’t it, Roy? Huh-huh.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“She’ll forget about the cat.”
I couldn’t help it; I laughed. “What in the world was that?”
“It's nothingits a police scanner. He tugged at the tufts of hair behind his ear.
“Wait. You have a police scanner and I don’t even have a cell phone?”
“You don’t need a cell phone. You just think you need a cell phone.” My dad was always telling me what I thought, as if I might not know.
“I would argue that it might come in handy in an emergency, but obviously you have that covered.” I motioned to the radio. “Is this how you spent your summer? Spying on your neighbors?”
 “It’s all part of the job.”
“Oh? And what job would that be?”
“The legal consultancy,” dad said, glancing sidelong at me like he expected disapproval. “I told you and Aunt Haley about it on the phone, remember?” I had spent the summer in Georgia with my Aunt Haley, who blamed my dad for everything from the state of my hair to the way I said ‘grace.’
“Don’t you have to have a degree to practice law?” I said, repeating what Aunt Haley had said to him.
“It’s a consultancy, Amity. I’m not representing people in court. There’s a difference between actual laws and what people think are laws.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure this is against the law,” I said, indicating the radio. “And inadmissible in
“Cresswell again, the blonde one, at the gas station on Idlefield Road. He has thisthing on his mouth. I think it’s infected. I don’t know what to do with these kids anymore.”
My dad slid forward in his seat.
“What’s a ‘Cresswell’?” I said, but he turned the volume up so high it drowned out my voice.  
“I thought their daddy was supposed to be a healer?”
One of the voices mumbled something unintelligible.
“That man gets to me, something about that man gets to me.”
“Armand says the kid stole a tree tap. Says it’s the fourth time this summer.”
“Where’s the kid?”
“Where do you think? Off in the trees.”
I scanned the forest outside the windows, trying to spot a blonde runaway between the sunburnt maples and the pines.
“I’m just going to stop and fill up,” my dad said, pumping the brake. I saw a sign for Idlefield Road and beyond it, I could make out the white peaks of the cookie cutter houses along Main Street.
“Don’t you think you should leave it to the police?” I said as we pulled underneath the awning at the gas station. A police car was parked sideways at the edge of the woods, like it had frozen mid-pursuit.
My dad touched his finger to his lips and switched off the radio. Then he stepped out of his truck like he was just filling his tank. I rolled my eyes but craned forward in my seat.
The Great American was one of those picturesque country stores, with fresh-cut wood walls and Dutch windows. A police officer leaned against the candy counter, talking to the shopkeeper, but the shopkeeper wasn’t paying him much attention; he was staring out at the trees like he expected them to have an opinion.
The parking lot was deserted except for a thin, sallow-skinned woman stretched out on the pavement underneath a bench. Her top half was in the shade but her legs were all akimbo in the sunshine.
 The police officer saw my dad and strode out, pulling up his police belt like he had been enlisted to solve the crime of the century. His nametag read ‘Officer Dell Hardy.’
“Mitchell Sawyer.” Officer Hardy’s lips spread. “What are you doing out here?”
“Filling the tank,” Dad said, making no move toward the pump. “Everything okay out here?”
Officer Hardy’s head did a quick swivel, taking in the empty parking lot and the destitute woman sprawled across the concrete. “I got a call from Armand; one of the Cresswell kids wandered in. He was walking up and down the aisles and reading all the packets, you know, all of them. Armand thought he was bored. You know how they are, those kids, bored stupid. Armand almost didn’t catch him slipping it in his sweatshirt, but he’s got that mirror now.
“The kid tried to book it, but Armand blocked the door and called us up. Armand tried to talk him down, I guess, but he said the kid wouldn’t say nothing, just kept pacing up and down the aisle like a caged animal. Then he made a break for it. When I pulled up, he was streaking across the parking lot, so I jumped out of the car and caught him by the sleeve, but his sweatshirt tore and he got away. That’s when I saw the thing on his face.” He pointed to his own lip to demonstrate. “So much for good kids, right? I thought they were supposed to be God’s own angels or something.”
Sunlight blanked out my dad’s spectacles as he peered out into the space between the trees.
“So it was Mortimer?” my dad said. “The white hair?”
“I don’t know which one it was. I can’t tell them kids apart. He said something to me, when I grabbed him. You know, in their imaginary language. Spooky, that stuff.”
My dad reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. “Give this to Armand.”
Officer Hardy held up his hand. “Officer Tulle is on his way down here.”
 “Don’t tell Officer Tulle about it, give the money to Armand. I’m not asking you to take it.”
Officer Hardy tucked the money in his front pocket as my dad climbed back into the truck. He didn’t seem to notice that my dad hadn’t filled his tank.
“Hey, Mitch!” Officer Hardy fiddled with his belt. “Don’t go down there.”

Thank you so much for having me!




About Eliza:
Eliza Wass is an author, journalist and the wife of the late musician Alan Wass. Her debut novel, The Cresswell Plot, was published in 2016 to critical acclaim by Disney-Hyperion. She has contributed articles to The Guardian, Grazia, NME, Shortlist and THE FALL.
Her second book with Disney-Hyperion, The Life and Death Parade, will be published in June 2018.



Giveaway Details:


3 winners will receive a finished copy of THE CRESSWELL PLOT Paperback, US Only.

a Rafflecopter giveaway




Tour Schedule:
Week One:
10/2/2017- Tales of the Ravenous ReaderInterview
10/2/2017- The Book NutReview

10/3/2017- Novel NoviceGuest Post
10/3/2017- Eli to nthReview

10/4/2017- Sugar Dusted PagesInterview
10/4/2017- Here's to Happy EndingsReview

10/5/2017- The Hardcover LoverExcerpt
10/5/2017- Kourtni ReadsReview

10/6/2017- BookHounds YAGuest Post
10/6/2017- Lattes & PaperbacksReview

Week Two:
10/9/2017- Tez SaysGuest Post
10/9/2017- JustAddaWordReview

10/10/2017- Rainy Days and Pajamas- Excerpt
10/10/2017- RhiReadingReview

10/11/2017- Blushing BibliophileInterview
10/11/2017- Savings in SecondsReview

10/12/2017- Omg Books and More BooksGuest Post
10/12/2017- Jena Brown WritesReview

10/13/2017- For the Love of KidLit- Interview
10/13/2017- BibliobakesReview


1 comment:

  1. This books sounds creepy and interesting and sadly relevant. Thanks for the post.

    ReplyDelete

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...