Thursday, February 1, 2024

Now On Tour Clearlake by Stanislava Buevich + Exclusive Excerpt #MiddleGradeHorror #MiddleGradeMystery

February 1 Paranormalists (Guest Blog)

February 2 Fiction Lux

February 5 Roxanne’s Realm 

February 6 The Creatively Green Write at Home Mom (Guest Blog)

February 7 Momma Says: To Read or Not to Read

February 8 The Book Junkie Reads (Interview)

February 9 Supernatural Central (Interview)

February 12 Lisa’s World of Books

February 13 Fang-tastic Books 

February 14 Roxanne Rhoads Instagram

February 15 I Smell Sheep (Guest Blog)

February 16 The Pimpettes FB

February 19 Sapphyria's Books

February 20 JB's Bookworms with Brandy Mulder (Guest Blog)

February 21 Bewitching Book Tours

February 22 Westveil Publishing 

February 23 The Bookworm

February 26 Liliyana Shadowlyn

February 27 A Bewitching Guide to Halloween (Guest Blog)

February 28 Kenyan Poet

February 29 @Alyssas_book_obsession  (Review)

Stanislava Buevich

Genre: Upper Middle Grade/Teen Mystery Horror
Date of Publication: December 1, 2023

Number of pages: 245
Word Count: 73K
Cover Artist: Sabina Kencana 

Tagline: Don’t go into Room 214 

Book Description:

"Hi, I'm Moon and this is my story. It all started with a terrible cold. When the lady in purple promised my mother that Clearlake Institute would be able to cure me without the use of modern medicine, my mom was hooked.

There was nothing I could do, or say, that could’ve changed her mind. She was determined from the moment we set foot on a remote island far, far away from everyone else, until the moment we were separated, and I was trapped in a creepy, gothic hospital."

Clearlake Institute was hiding something!

Deep beneath the shadows, something sinister was brewing - darkened halls, strange doctors, ghastly nurses that watch your every move, and children who are sent into Room 217 never to return.

Aided by the other children she meets at the institute, Moon Rains embarks on a perilous, suspenseful adventure to uncover the secrets of the Clearlake Institute.

Now, the race against time begins. Will Moon and her friends make it out before it’s too late? Or will Clearlake claim them as its next set of victims?

Exclusive Excerpt

The second our feet were on steady ground, she straightened her shoulders as if spreading wings. She sashayed off towards the knight on a shining boat, swaying her hips side to side, her steps measured to an inaudible beat. She was in character. And that character was going to get us to Clearlake.

She wasn’t kidding. Less than five minutes on dry land, and we had a ride.

My mother was awfully pleased with herself. She flipped her curls side to side.

“See?” she said.

“See what?”

“I told you I could get us there.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I could see it on your face.”

“Oh, could you? The Eye, is it?” I retorted.

“Watch it, young lady. I am your mother, and I can read your thoughts.

Don’t you ever forget it,” she replied.

The boat was small but comfortable enough. Its cramped cabin kept us safe from the furious gusts of the northern wind that seemed to grow angrier and louder the closer we got to Clearlake, as if Mother Nature was in on it too, trying to warn us. My mother, however, remained oblivious. My stomach twisted into knots, and I wrapped my arms around it tightly.

“It’s the waves, Moon darling. Seasickness,” my mother chirped as she rubbed my back. She took my hand and pressed firmly at the base of my thumb.

Pressure point for nausea,” she explained. I didn’t want to tell her that I wasn’t nauseous. I was hopeless, free-falling without a glimpse of a parachute.

We sat huddled together for the lack of space and to keep each other warm. I pressed my body into hers and breathed in my mother’s scent. I loved the way she smelled. It wasn’t a particular fragrance but just her, my mother. I felt like a child again – safe in my mother’s embrace, if only for an instant.

The seaman was called John. He was from Lerwick, born and bred. He was missing some front teeth, and a few were capped in metal, which didn’t deter him from smiling an awful lot. He kept glancing at us and shining his faux gold molar.

“Thank you so much, once again,” my mother said with a wink. I cringed ever so slightly.

“Aye. Nae bother,” he replied, sounding a little too uneasy for my liking.

“De certain where’re ya goin’, lass?” I wasn’t entirely sure I understood everything he said, but my mother didn’t seem to have any trouble.
She beamed at him with pride. “Yes, we were invited to the Clearlake Institute. The famous Clearlake Institute. Have you heard of it?”

“Aye. Aye,” the seaman responded, a shadow crossing his face.

“Is there something wrong?” I said.

“Nae. Nae,” he replied, forcing his mouth to flash his toothless grin again.
My mother patted me on the knee, and I exhaled a deep, measured breath. Then I counted to ten before taking another one and buried my face into my mother’s soft, furry sleeve.

But the sense of unease was impossible to escape. My stomach refused to settle. I pressed my hand firmly against it in a fruitless attempt to tame the butterflies inside. We had boarded the Titanic without a chance of going back.

Only a few meters of water separated us from the land.

The wind blew furious, hysterical, and shrill, announcing our arrival. We were here – on Clearlake Island.


About the Author:

Stacy Buevich is a British writer and a film director with many award winning short films. She started writing novels during lockdown (wait did that really happen?), beginning with a magical mystery Maya Fairy, that she wrote for her daughter. Since then she has written several more and not planning to stop

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