IMANI UNRAVELED Blog Tour Assets
About The Book
Title: IMANI UNRAVELED (Daughter 4254, Book 2)
Author: Leigh Statham
Pub.
Date: February 5, 2019
Publisher: Owl Hollow Press
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Pages: 260
When her head is artificially filled with more
information than she knows what to do with, Daughter4254 finds she can’t trust
her own thoughts, much less the words of anyone else.
Rumors come creeping in the night, and she finds
herself faced with a choice she thought she’d left far behind when she’d walked
out the doors of the compound.
CHAPTER 2
The
snow is packed harder than I would have guessed. We slide much faster than we
can control. I cling to Thomas’s gloved hand with my own bare one and try not
to scream. My forehead throbs centered around the knot swelling where the
monster man headbutted me. The wind whips past my face, carrying pellets of ice
kicked up from our feet trying to dig in and slow the descent. The river bank
is coming up quickly. Too quickly.
“Thomas,”
I squeak out. I want to shut my eyes and brace for impact, but instead I watch
in horror as jagged rocks lining the frozen river’s edge grow larger, closer.
“Hang
on, I gotcha.” Thomas grips my hand tightly and bends his knees, digging his
feet deeper into the icy snow bank.
Twang.
The
guards must have reached the edge. But the sounds of their rifles are
accompanied by the scraping of ice and metal, and Thomas begins to slow.
Momentum carries me ahead of him, the motion centered on the connection of our
hands. My arm fully extends and starts to strain, gravity fighting to pull my
fingers from their grasp on his glove.
“I
need both your hands,” he yells.
I
roll on my side and reach up, catching him around his free wrist with my
flailing hand. I immediately feel the tug increase as he successfully slows my
descent as well.
Twang,
twang.
More
shots.
“Hold
on, we’re gonna speed this up again.” Thomas redoubles his grip on my right
hand, then my left, before lifting his feet, and we shoot down the slope again.
This
time I look down at the rocks and realize they are boulders and we are only a
few moments away from smashing into them.
I
look up the hill. The guards are standing at the top of the ridge, taking aim.
Pain
in my temples is followed by snippets of shock rifle statistics flowing across
my vision: diagrams, measurements, development. I shut my eyes and shake the
information away, groaning. But now I know these rifles have limited range and
accuracy. They aren’t like the guns of the past, firing hundreds of feet with
startling precision. We may be out of their reach on the river.
“Hang
on!” Thomas yells as we slow more quickly this time, yanking on my outstretched
arms. Then my feet slam into the boulders below, my legs buckling.
I
open my eyes and scramble to my hands and knees. The guards aren’t following
us, but that doesn’t mean they will let us go. One puts his rifle down and
speaks into a small black box. The other keeps us in his sights.
Twang.
The
rock next to me explodes, little pebbles showering the ground around us.
Okay,
so maybe I misjudged their range.
“Time
to go, love.” Thomas is on his feet and pulling me up too.
We
slip around the huge rocks, coated in ice, to face the river in its roaring
glory. I hope Thomas won’t ask me to dive into the icy waters. I know we have
to get out quickly, but I’ve never been in water deeper than a shower puddle.
How will I survive the freezing current roaring in front of me?
As
we round the corner between rocks and the last twang dies away behind us, I see
a small boat tied to a scrawny tree, halfway lodged on a thin, sandy bank.
Thomas takes off his gloves and hands them to me.
“Put
these on,” he says, and I do so quickly, savoring the warmth his hands left for
mine. He stomps ahead and starts untying the line. Once it’s free, he looks up
at me.
I
meet his gaze, understanding urgency that doesn’t need to be spoken. I take in
the river and the tiny wooden vessel. This is better than swimming, but I’ve
never ridden in a boat either. We didn’t live anywhere near water that used
boats for any purpose, and recreational boating is not of use.
“Get
in. No doubt they are calling up for ropes and the like so they can scale down
and nab us.”
“I’ve
never been in a boat before. I-I don’t know what to do,” I stammer.
“Just
get in and hold on. Don’t dance around and we’ll be fine.” He smiles at me as
he tugs at the ropes. The same smile that got me through all those days in
prison, only now there are no bars separating us, no regulations, no
guards—except the ones behind us on the hill.
I
step gingerly into the shallow water and take hold of the brown wooden sides.
As I lift my other leg up, the boat tips under my weight and I almost lose my
balance. With one foot on the uneven bottom, I hurry to swing my other leg into
the boat, shaking as I cling to the side. Shallow water pools around my boots
as I wobble toward a small bench built in the back. I sit down and grasp both
sides of the boat. They feel smooth even through Thomas’s warm wool gloves,
worn down by the hands of previous passengers holding on for their lives, I’m
sure.
Thomas
throws the ropes in after me and starts to push the boat into the current. As
we slide away from the shore, the top of the hill rises into view beyond the
large boulders sheltering us. The guards aren’t visible, but I don’t relax yet.
My arms are tense and I flex my calves. Thomas was right. They are probably
waiting for ropes or bigger guns or something worse before they come after us.
Their whole existence, everything they cherish, is crammed in my brain, and
they don’t want that slipping out of their control.
Thomas
gives one last push, then jumps expertly into the front of the boat. The slight
rocking caused by his jump convinces me the boat is about to capsize and I
squeeze the sides tighter, closing my eyes. My whole body tightens and I hold
my breath as the boat lowers farther into the dark waters with Thomas’s weight
and then catches the current and speeds ahead. When I’m brave enough to open my
eyes, Thomas is standing in front of me with a pole, pushing us away from an
oncoming rock and catapulting us farther into the flow. I hold my breath as we
shoot forward.
Not
wanting to look at the raging river around us, I look down into the boat and
notice Thomas’s boots. Now that we aren’t in the snow, I can see large metal
spikes protruding from the soles. That must have been how he climbed up the
hill and how he slowed our descent. An image of the spikes going through the
brown wood in the bottom of the boat and water rising up around me makes me
shiver, and I close my eyes again. He got down here without puncturing the
boat, so we should be able to get out too.
I
release the side of the boat to gently prod the spot where the wild man knocked
his head against mine, and a dull throbbing meets my fingers. The backs of my
eyelids light up accompanied by stabbing pain between my temples. I grab the
sides of the boat again and brace myself for what comes next.
RMS
Titanic was a British passenger liner that sank in the North Atlantic Ocean on
15 April 1912 after colliding with an iceberg during her maiden voyage from
Southampton, UK, to New York City, US. The sinking of Titanic caused the deaths
of more than 1,500 people in one of the deadliest peacetime maritime disasters
in modern history.
“Stop, stop, stop!”
“Can’t
love. We’re well on our way now. Look, they’re giving up. Woo-hoo!”
Thomas
doesn’t realize I’m not talking to him.
This
pain, these information flashes, are the byproducts of Hamen messing with my
head. After Thomas escaped the prison and I was taken to the Mind Wipe, Hamen
filled me with all the lost information of our ancestors—everything our current
Leaders had decided wasn’t of use, including most history, art, and music. What
he hadn’t told me was that random bits would pop up without warning in flashes
and bursts of pain. I can’t decide if I’m glad to have it or if I wish it was
back in Hamen’s machine.
As
soon as the episode has passed—in a moment that feel like several minutes—I
look up. In the distance, the guards have both dropped their weapons and are
watching us. We are moving too fast for them to catch. The river bends to the
left, taking us with it. An outcropping of trees on the bank passes between us
and they are gone. I wonder what Hamen will say when he finds out I ran away. I
picture his face growing dark and morphing into the man I knew best, the man
who enjoyed tormenting students in Secondary School. The man who wouldn’t
hesitate to erase my personality and memories if given the chance.
How
could he have ever been, as he claims, my mother’s friend?
The river
is still swift but is deep and smooth now. I grow used to the gentle rocking,
and seeing Thomas confident at the helm helps me relax. At each section of
rapids, Thomas guides us through expertly. He looks back at me now and then, a
broad smile splitting his handsome face. As I think about how much I missed
him—his voice, his smile, the mischief in his eyes—I realize that I don’t know
this wild mountain boy much better than I know Hamen. Yet I am willing to trust
him, to follow him this time. Though he could be taking me to a life much worse
than Hamen offered, I doubt it with my whole heart. Any life that includes
Thomas is better than one without him.
I
wish I’d never doubted him the first time.
Title: DAUGHTER
4254 (Daughter 4254, Book 1)
Author: Leigh
Statham
Pub.
Date: December
5, 2017
Publisher: Owl
Hollow Press
Pages: 286
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Daughter4254
used to think life in a community where art, music and names are outlawed would
suffocate her creative spirit. Now that she’s rotting in a prison cell, she’s
not sure her dying mother made the right choice when she entrusted her with the
secrets of rebellion. Prison has given her plenty of time to relive every
mistake and lose all hope.
Then she meets
Thomas, a fellow inmate, who tells her stories of the mythical mountain
colonies where people have names and the arts thrive. Together they plot an
escape, knowing if they fail, they will die. Or worse, their consciousness will
be taken by the MindWipe, leaving their bodies free for the government to use.
When nothing goes as planned, Daughter4254 must choose between using her
mother’s secret to better the world she hates, or following Thomas to the quiet
life of freedom she has always craved.
About Leigh
Leigh Statham was raised in the wilds of rural
Idaho but found her heart in New York City. She worked at many interesting jobs
before settling in as a mother and writer.
She now resides in North Carolina with her husband,
four children, eight chickens, a fluffy dog, and two suspected serial killer
cats.
Leigh is currently working on an MFA, has written
countless short stories, and is the author of lots of mediocre poetry. She is
also the winner of the 2016 Southeast Review Narrative Nonfiction Prize for her
short story “The Ditch Bank and the Fenceline.”
Giveaway
Details
2 winners will receive a finished copy of IMANI
UNRAVELED, US only.
Tour Schedule:
Week
One:
2/11/2019- BookHounds YA- Excerpt
2/12/2019- Smada's Book Smack- Spotlight
2/13/2019- Kelly P's Blog- Excerpt
2/14/2019- Wishful Endings- Excerpt
2/15/2019- Christine's Book Corner- Spotlight
Week
Two:
2/18/2019- Some Books and Ramblings- Excerpt
2/19/2019- Jena Brown Writes- Review
2/20/2019- Two Chicks on Books- Excerpt
2/21/2019- Owl Always Be Reading- Excerpt
2/22/2019- Good Choice Reading- Spotlight
