Blog Tour + Excerpt: EYES OF THE FOREST by April Henry (w/Ā #giveaway)!
Welcome to Book-Keeping and my stop on the Xpresso Tours blog tour for the latest thriller from April Henry, Eyes of the Forest! Iāve got all the details for you below, along with an excerpt and a giveaway, so make sure to read all the way through!
title: Eyes of the Forest
author: April Henry
publisher: Henry Holt (BYR)
release date: 24 August 2021
After a bestselling fantasy writer disappears, only his biggest fan believes heās in danger. Instead of re-reading his books, she must venture into the real world to uncover the truth in this fast-paced mystery by New York Times-bestselling author April Henry. For readers of Courtney Summers and Karen McManus.
Bridget is RM Haldonās biggest fan. She and her mom sought refuge in Haldronās epic fantasy series Swords and Shadows while her mom was losing her battle with cancer. When Bridget met Haldon at one of his rare book signings, she impressed the author with her encyclopedic knowledge of the fantasy world heād created. Bridget has been working for him ever since as he attempts to write the final book in his blockbuster sword and sorcery series. But Haldon has gone missing, and Bridget is the only person who seems concerned. Can Bridget piece together Haldonās cryptic clues and save him before itās too late?
Master mystery-writer April Henry weaves another heart-stopping young adult thriller in this story that seamlessly blends suspense with an exploration of fan culture.
Add to Goodreads: Eyes of the Forest
Purchase the Book: Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo | Google Play
Bobās eyes fluttered open. Someone had shouted.Ā
His head hurt. With effort, he traced the memory back. Derrick had hurt him. Derrick.Ā
Was his skull broken? With a groan, Bob pushed himself up on one elbow. He was in a bed in a room he didnāt recognize. He stared in horror at the stains obscuring the pillowcaseās tiny faded blue flowers. Blood. His blood.Ā
Gritting his teeth, he touched his scalp. The wound was about an inch long, just above his temple. He pressed his fingers on his crewcut, tacky with blood. The skin had been split, but the skull underneath seemed intact.Ā
A surge of relief rolled over him, followed immediately by a pulse of anxiety. What if heād just exposed the wound to new germs? What if that half-formed scab was the only thing preventing him from a nasty infection right next to his brain? Back in the Middle Ages, you might not die from the battlefield wound, but from the infection that followed.Ā
His stomach roiled as he thought of something else. Heād shouted as he woke. What if Derrick came back and hurt him again?Ā
Bob strained his ears, but heard nothing. After pushing himself to a sitting position, he looked around. He was in a small bedroom, about twelve by fourteen feet. The walls were yellow pine, dotted with brown knot holes. The door was closed. The fir floor was bare.Ā
Bob still couldnāt believe what had happened. Derrick snarling at him to get in the trunk. The Is that real? gun that now seemed likely to be. The sickening crunch against his skull as he felt his bones turn to jelly. The engulfing darkness.
Bob was trembling, and it wasnāt just from the chilly air. Things were horribly wrong.Ā
When he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, there was a metallic clatter. Clamped around his ankles, over his socks, was what looked like a pair of handcuffs connected with a chain. A six-foot long plastic-coated cable had been threaded through the cuff around his right ankle. The other end was looped around the leg of a treadmill desk a few feet away. The desk, made of aluminum and plastic, looked incongruously modern in the otherwise rustic setting. Under the desk was a built-in treadmill.Ā
Bob was still wearing the same clothes in which heād been taken. The same clothes he always wore. A plain black T-shirt and blue jeans. But what about his scarf? A second of panic before his fingers found it, still around his neck. No coat. His old white Nikes were nowhere in sight. Without the blanketsā warmth, the cold was already sinking into his marrow.Ā
In front of the treadmill desk, the single window was framed by white curtains. Outside, an expanse of white snow and massive evergreens.Ā
Derrick had told Bob about this cabin, tucked away in the forest. Off the grid. No landline. No wifi. Just electricity and running waterāif a storm didnāt take them out.Ā
Even if Bob managed to free himself, how far would he make it without shoes? He had researched frostbite, and it wasnāt pretty. While he wasnāt a big walker, without toes it would be even harder.Ā
Between the bed and the treadmill desk was a nightstand overflowing with provisions. A brown Pyrex bowl filled with apples, bananas, oranges, pears. A bag of baby carrots. Six plastic water bottles. A loaf of Daveās Killer Bread. A brick of Tillamook cheddar. But no knife to cut it with. No utensils at all.Ā
Nothing Bob could use to free himself. To attack someone. Or hurt himself.Ā
The treadmill desk held, somewhat incongruously, a typewriter. A black Royal. Sitting next to it was a neat stack of blank white paper. The rest of the desktop was bare.Ā
A single sheet of paper had been folded in half and propped on top of the typewriter. On it was scrawled, āBetter start writing Eyes of the Forest. Or else!ā
Bob took stock. He was in an isolated cabin, injured, shackled. No one but his captors knew where he was.Ā
April Henry is the New York Times bestselling author of many acclaimed mysteries for adults and young adults, including the YA novels Girl, Stolen; The Girl I Used to Be, which was nominated for an Edgar Award; The Night She Disappeared; and Body in the Woods and Blood Will Tell, Books One and Two in the Point Last Seen series. She lives in Oregon.
Connect with April: Website | Goodreads | Facebook | Twitter
One (1) lucky winner will receive a finished copy of Eyes of the Forest by April Henry! This is open internationally, and ends 1 September 2021. Enter via the Rafflecopter below, and good luck!