You know, guys? I don’t know whether I’m more excited for my book’s relaunch of for this scavenger hunt!
I’ve been toying with the idea of a scavenger hunt for sometimes now. It sounds such fun for both authors and readers, a great opportunity to connect. But all the scavenger hunts I’ve come about are for romance novels, not really a place where my novella would fit.
Then I thought, wait! I know many authors who write stories set in the 1910s, 1920s and 1930s (which is the focus of my 1920s Book Club Facebook group), why not come together and make our own scavenger hunt?
And so here we are!
I hope you’ll all enjoy surfing the hunt. May you discover your next favourite author and your favourite next read.
Welcome to HISTORYTELLERS Scavenger Hunt! This is a hunt dedicated to novels historically set in the 1910s, 1920s and 1930s where all genres are welcome. You’ll get the opportunity to discover new authors, new stories and to meet and talk to other readers who love this time period, not to mention that you’ll have the opportunity to win a grand prize of 14 ebooks!
The hunt will be online only today 17 March 2019 from 12am to 11:59pm EDT.
Go to the Historytellers Scavenger Hunt page to find out all about the hunt.
HOW TO HUNT
Directions: I’ve included my lucky number on this post (you will spot it!). All my fellow authors participating in the hunt will include a lucky number on their posts. You can start the hunt from any blog, but if you find yourself stuck, do visit the AUTHORS page.
Collect the lucky numbers from all the blogs and add them up.
Entry Form: When you have that magic total number, head over HERE and tick the right number off the list in the Gleam form to officially qualify for the grand prize. Only entries with the correct number ticked off will qualify.
The Gleam form will give you additional chances to win the prize.
Rules: Anyone can take part. To be eligible for the grand prize, you must submit the completed entry form by Sunday 17 March 11:59pm EDT."#HISTORYTELLERS Scavenger Hunt up today. Win 14 #historicalfiction novels #freeebooks Click To Tweet
LET THE HUNT BEGIN!
HI, I’M SARAH ZAMA
Born and raised in Verona (Italy), I’ve always loved to surround myself with books, so it may be a sort of karma that I ended up being a bookseller and an indie author. A fantasy reader since a kid, a Tolkien nerd almost as long, I’ve always being fascinated with history and old black-and-white mystery films, which may or may not have had a hand in my involvement in the dieselpunk community. Ghosts Through the Cracks is my fist publish novella. I’m currently working at more historical fantasy stories set in the 1920s.
GHOSTS THORUGH THE CRACKS
Ghost Through the Cracks is my first publish work. To be honest, I never imagined I would one day self-publish it, but life has a way to make you see new possibilities and I’m glad I decided to go this route.
In so many ways, this is a story that has made me grow. I first wrote it not with the intention to publish it, but rather as a characters’ study for a longer project that is still unpublished, Ghost Trilogy, which I’ve always considered Michael’s story, but where Susie and especially Blood still have a major role. It’s also the story where first I tried to put these characters in context, because I’ll tell you the truth: since I knew next to nothing about 1920s America when I first planned Ghost Trilogy, I was kind of scared to really start writing, though I already loved the characters.
This happened back in 2010. Today, 1920s America is a very familiar place to me, a place I love to go back to and where I feel I can walk around with confidence.
GHOSTS THROUGH THE CRACKS
Even in sparkling Jazz Age Chicago, spirits can trick you into believing they’re men
When Susie comes to Jazz Age America, she knows her life will change. Back in China, spirits mingle in the mists of the rice fields and trick humans into believing they’re men in order to steal their souls, and the expectations of a daughter are unimportant and ignored. But in Chicago, Simon gives her the carefree life of the New American Woman, the freedom to dress daringly and do things once reserved only for men–drinking, smoking and dancing with strangers. It’s an exciting life and she considers the loyalty Simon demands of her a small price to pay.
Until she meets a man called Blood.
Blood lets Susie speak her mind and listen to her heart. He commits himself to her and asks nothing in return. Through his eyes, Susie begins to see her loyalty to Simon as the bars around her “freedom”. But she knows Simon will never let her go.
But even in Chicago, spirits mingle in the smoke and jazz of speakeasies and trick humans into believing they’re men. They can still steal their souls. And if Susie doesn’t see the spirits behind the masks of the men fighting over her, she might lose much more than her freedom.
You’ll have a chance to get my book at just 0.99 on all stores until Tuesday 19 March. Hope you’ll give it a try. And if you do, I’d love to hear what you think of it.
Here’s what other readers thought!
I’d like to offer you something more just for today’s HISTORYTELLERS Scavenger Hunt.
Sometimes back, I posted about this short story, Sea Phantom, which is set in Milan in 1921. I posted the opening of the story as well as some facts about it. Today, I want to offer more. Not just an excerpt, mind you! Read to the end.
Chiara sat at her vanity. The stool swayed – or so it felt to her – as if she were on a ship on a rough sea, rather than in her home, in Milan.
She reached for the jar of cold cream and saw her fingers tremble. She balled her hands on the top of the vanity. Pressed her lips together. Spread her fingers on the flat surface. They were still unsettled.
A few of her new calling cards littered the vanity. She brushed her name, Chaira Campanelli, with a lazy finger. She remembered thinking those cards were too dark and she didn’t like the font. Now she didn’t care. Why would she want new calling cards? Why would she want calling cards at all?
She snatched the jar of cold cream with an angry gesture, reached for the box of paper tissues – the same she used in her dressing room at the theatre – and proceeded taking off all that dirt from her face. The blood, the dust, the dirt from the destroyed street. But also the powder, the eyeshadow, the rouge. The two dots in the mirror blinked like cold, blue fire. They always stared from mirrors, she could never just see her face.
The first time she saw them, years ago, when she first came to Milan, they scared the Hell out of her, but now she just knew she would see them. And they would stare and blink. Look inside her. Deep down to her very soul. She knew those burning eyes could see, challenging her to see too.
Chiara never looked back at them. But tonight her hands slowed down from cleaning her face and she did look back.
What? What should I look at? What should I see?
“Here,” Emma said, giving a shell to Ondina. “Squeeze some lemon inside it and eat.”
They set by the sea, on the keel of an upturned boat. A basket rested between them. Emma had a round face with big chestnut eyes, which curly wisps besieged, escaping her braids. Ondina had a shock of wild black hair that looked like it had never been touched by a comb.
Ondina took the offered shell and the half lemon. She squeezed the lemon over the shell and squeezed her face too as drops of lemon splashed over her nose and eyes.
Emma laughed, her voice a musical trill. The sea broke over the sandy shore with a laughing sound.
Ondina wriggled her nose, never losing her grip on the shell or the lemon, opened her mouth and shook with laughter. Only no sound came, if not that of the sea, laughing with her.
Chiara banged her fists on the top of the vanity and glared at the two burning dots staring at her. Her nostrils flared.
She still heard the waves breaking on the shore and more than ever she longed for it. For the embrace of the sea, for its dancing touch. She longed to walk naked into it.
But she just had her bathtub. That would have to do. It was late in the night and she was exhausted, but she needed to cleanse in the water.
Much later, when the moon had long disappeared from the sky, she slipped inside her bed. And dreamed.
Sea Phantom is unpublished, but only for today, I’m offering it for free to everyone joining my NEWSLETTER. Come grab it!
My lucky number is
Add up all the lucky numbers and you’ll have the magic total number to tick off HERE for the grand prize!
***CONTINUE THE HUNT***
To keep going on your quest for the hunt, you need to check out the next author