
When the Bones Sing
Hardcover
$19.99
More Formats:
★"Lyrical prose…. vividly descriptive text evokes an ethereal yet grounded setting. Plot points offer shocking twists that feel appropriately earned in a rural Southern gothic horror novel that will stay with readers well beyond the last page." —PW (starred review)
"A twisted, gripping mystery." –Booklist
"Like the sulfurous stream that gives Lucifer’s Creek its name, the central mystery twists and turns in unexpected ways, building up to a chilling reveal in the final act that skirts the edge of horror. Gripping and intensely atmospheric." —Kirkus
"A twisted, gripping mystery." –Booklist
"Like the sulfurous stream that gives Lucifer’s Creek its name, the central mystery twists and turns in unexpected ways, building up to a chilling reveal in the final act that skirts the edge of horror. Gripping and intensely atmospheric." —Kirkus
- Pages: 352 Pages
- Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
- Imprint: G.P. Putnam's Sons Books for Young Readers
- ISBN: 9780593625484
An Excerpt From
When the Bones Sing
Daddy left the ice cream to melt and scooped me up quick as summer lightning. In one move, his strong hands knocked the bone from my fingers and the damp earth from the front of my dress, and I wailed as he carried me back home.
“Like her mama, God help her,” my Sunday School teacher whispered as we passed. “And her grandmother.” The words wormed their way into my ear, even over the sound of my own shrieking.
“Cryin’ for the dead,” one of the old men added. There were always a handful of them gathered like crows outside the little coffee shop on Mud Street. And the rest agreed like a Greek chorus.
But they were all wrong. I wasn’t worked up over whoever that finger belonged to. I didn’t understand enough back then to weep for someone who was only bones. Somebody I didn’t know, besides.
I was crying because I knew I wasn’t gonna get any of that strawberry ice cream Daddy had been churning. And I’d had my mouth set for it so bad.
I must have been dreaming about that day, because I wake up craving the taste of fresh strawberries cold on my tongue. But as soon as I sit up in bed, I know what it was that pulled me out of my dreams, and it wasn’t the memory of ice cream I didn’t get thirteen years ago.
My teeth are chattering louder than the shuddering air conditioner propped up in the attic window. My whole body is humming. Vibrating at a familiar frequency.
I can feel the dead deep in my bones.