Blood and Salt is making the headlines as it would be released on September 22, 2015. Fans have been talking about it non-stop as the book pitched as "Romeo and Juliet meet Children of the Corn" [MTV]. The romantic horror story digs the desperate history of one Kansas town.
A sneak peek from the excerpt was then EXCLUSIVELY dished out on Entertainment Weekly.
BLOOD AND SALT by Kim Liggett
THE SICKENING CRACKLE of the corn-husk rope pulls me from sleep, down the hall, up the stairs, and out into the night. The sky is the strangest color, a dusky gray rose. Dark blond hair skims the ground as it disappears into a patch of tall prairie grass.
Tearing through the coarse grass, I try to reach her. As I break into a small clearing, I catch a glimpse of her face-eyes wide and lifeless, she stares back at me as her body's being dragged into the corn.
Sensing a presence, I turn to see a winged figure made of smoke move toward me, but I'm not afraid. The scent of freshly rained-upon soil, salt, hay, cloves, sandalwood, and saddle leather permeates the air. It's the most beautiful smell in the world. I close my eyes to breathe it in, hoping it will imprint on my memory. And when I open them, the smoke has sharpened into the face of Dane.
I reach out to touch him, but he flinches away. I can't help but laugh. Even my illusion of Dane won't cooperate.
My skin is pulsing with light. Faint at first, the golden light soon grows into a soft halo that wraps around me, illuminating the protection marks.
I stand perfectly still, coaxing the golden light forward to reach him. As soon as it meets his skin, I can feel him, just as if I were touching him with my own fingers. Every bit of our connection is alive and electric as it flows through me and into him, back from him to me, and around us.
I feel his spirit, damaged and beautiful. Perfect in its flaws. Suddenly, I become worried that he can see all of me, too; something in me wants to cover up, to hide my imperfections. I feel vulnerable, like a gaping wound with salt water lapping at the edges.
