Friday, February 8, 2013

A Graveyard Butterfly: Salvation Teaser Tour Stop 8

To read the Prologue, go to Pure Imagination.
To read Chapter 1--Scene 1, go to Always YA at Heart.
To read Chapter 1--Scene 2, go to Books that Bite. 
To read Chapter 1--Scene 3, go to Live to Read.
To read Chapter 1--Scene 4 pt. 1, go to The Bookish Babe. 
To read Chapter 1--Scene 4 pt. 2, go to Confessions of a Vi3tBabe.
To read Chapter 2--Scene 1 pt. 1, go to The Reading Date.

Chapter 2: A Graveyard Butterfly--Scene 2
Beth smiled as she reached the graveyard. “Morbid,” her mother would have said about her daughter’s desire to visit the cemetery, but Beth kicked off her sandals and waded through the fresh-cut grass. The cool strands tickled her ankles and the sweet scent of late roses clung to the air. Pale yellow, blue, and pink tombstones scattered the green in a pastel palate.

A squirrel rushed across the grass and scurried up an old oak tree, the fluffy gray tail disappearing among the branches. Beth approached, watching to see if it would emerge again, but when it did not, she swung off her backpack and slid to the ground beneath the tree’s outstretched shadow. And beside the slender pink stone with the name Gloria May Courant etched in the center.

“Hello, Grandma,” said Beth. “I’m sorry I’m late.” She explained about Nalani’s meeting. “You know she always has something happening. I’m sure you aren’t surprised.” It felt right to be here. Grandma had always expected Beth to share about the first day of school, a ritual that Beth hadn’t wanted to stop now.

“It was a pretty good day,” Beth went on, “for the first, you know. I’m not sure I’ll survive trigonometry; but I thought the same thing about algebra II, and it turned out all right. All the answers are still in the back of the book, so I’ll know when to ask Nalani for help.” She knew Grandma would remind her that Beth’s final math scores had outpaced Ni’s all the way through school. But grades, and confidence in math, were two different things.

A robin hopped down onto the grass about twenty feet from the pink tombstone. Beth stopped talking so that she wouldn’t frighten him. He pecked his way closer, hopping four or five inches at a time and up onto the mound of turned earth. The grass there had not quite grown in yet. The robin preened, raising his chest and showing off, then disappeared in a sudden rush of wings.

Beth’s head swam with the questions her grandmother had always asked. Do you like your teachers? Did you make any new friends? Were you on time for everything?

Obediently, Beth answered the questions, though she skimmed through her problems with being late. She told herself the aversion had nothing to do with crashing into Salva Resendez . . .

To  read the rest, join Salva, Beth, and I at I am a Reader, Not a Writer. And after that, my fabulous tourists, I'm afraid you shall simply have to splurge and read the book! Thank you so much for joining us on our tour! Salva, Beth, and I have read every comment at each and every tour stop. We genuinely appreciate the support:)


Copyright @ 2013 by Anne Osterlund. Used by permission of Speak, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. All rights reserved.

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