Wintergarden
Blog Tour
About the Author
Theresa Wallace-Pregent lives with her husband and four
talented children in
Her latest book is the YA/Children’s fantasy, Wintergarden.
Four Stars
Copy received from Pump Up Your Books for an honest review
"Wintergarden" by Theresa Wallace-Pregent was magical. It is a fantasy story but there were many different elements involved in this story, not just magic. Fifteen year old Addyson Marten was a great heroine. I also thought that she was a great example of a person who is struggling sometimes to come of age and also the choices that they have to make.
Overall, I really enjoyed this story and found it to be very rewarding. I really liked the pacing of the story. I was expecting a child-like story but it was much more. The author used the book to teach some moral lessons in the mist of the fairies and the Median Realms. Anyone that enjoys reading fantasy and even fairy tales will enjoy reading about Addyson and her fairy friends.
For More Information
- Visit
T.M. Wallace’s website.
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with T.M. Wallace on Twitter.
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out more about T.M. at Goodreads.
- More
books by T.M. Wallace.
About the Book:
Title: Wintergarden
Author: T.M. Wallace
Publisher: Brownridge Publishing
Pages: 220
Genre: YA/Children’s Fantasy
Format: Paperback/Kindle
Author: T.M. Wallace
Publisher: Brownridge Publishing
Pages: 220
Genre: YA/Children’s Fantasy
Format: Paperback/Kindle
Addyson Marten must travel a magical labyrinth to its center
in order to reach her friend Connor and free him from the witch of the Median
Realms. Both Connor and Addy must learn to use their own magical abilities to
fight the growing evil in the Human and Fairy worlds.
Wintergarden is the sequel to the Award-Winning book “Under
a Fairy Moon,” (Gelett Burgess Children’s Book Awards—Fantasy, 2012, Canadian
Christian Writing Awards—Young Adult, 2012.)
For More Information
Book Excerpt:
Connor clenched his jaw
shut until it ached—like the bat- tered heart inside of him. He should have
known it was too good to be true. He should have known that they—the
fair-folk—would never let him go. He winced as a voice screeched loudly, with a
noise like metal scraping against metal: “Where is the girl?”
From his hiding place
among the trees, Connor saw the long, bony fngers of the witch grip the
shoulders of a smaller fgure in a black cloak. The hood of the cloak slid down revealing
the unmistakable lizard-like features of Dubhan: servant of the Elf King.
“She has left the Median
Realms, my Queen. Adalira has released her.”
Dubhan's lizard-tongue
ficked out suddenly, and his eyes narrowed to slits. He looked over to where Connor
sat crouched in the thick of the forest. Connor held his breath. Would the
lizard-man sense his presence? His heart drummed loudly in his ears. Dubhan's
eyes seemed to look right through Connor for a moment, then turned away.
The too-red lips of
Uthrace contorted impossibly, wavering and fickering like a fame. A cry of an
eagle sounded just as the witch-queen threw her head back and screamed an
ear-shattering cry born of anger and hatred.
Dubhan hissed. “All is
not lost, my Queen. The magic worked on the boy—he is here. Shall I fetch him
for you?” The Queen released the lizard-man from her grasp: A cruel smile
spread across her face.
Suddenly, the ground
beneath Connor gave way. He found himself falling into an entirely different
place - a narrow space with stone walls. He looked up to find the source of
light and saw a sky full of creeping vines. Hairy roots had managed to crowd
their way through the stone, partially obscuring the rough grey rock. The place
reeked like the earthy dampness of a cellar.
Something large was
moving in the tangled mass of leaves and tendrils directly above him: a large
black spider, likely one of the witch-queen's pets, was waiting up among the
vines to snatch a pixie with butterfly wings. Connor watched in horror as the bulbous
form pounced on the unsuspecting fairy creature, sending a rain of leaves and
dirt spinning down over Connor's head. He continued to watch through his
fngers, frozen with horror.
He cried out: A gloved
hand rested firmly on his shoulder. Wheeling around, he looked up into a
familiar face. It was the Elf King himself, his dark brows raised in an
expression of scornful amusement.
“You thought you could
escape? Foolish boy ... Don't you know we have great plans for you?” He grinned
and shoved him toward a group of squat, potato-skinned gnomes. “Take him to the
caves—be sure to keep him this side of the Labyrinth.” The largest of the
gnomes bowed and led Connor roughly through the tunnels of earth and stone.
Connor offered no
resistance. He moved along mechanically, kicking the occasional rock or clod of
dirt out of his way. He did not lift his head. He didn't bother to wipe his
dirt-smeared glasses. He tried not to think ... tried not to notice the dull
ache in his heart.
Connor stared down at
his hands in disbelief: only moments ago he was standing with Addy, his one
true friend in this twisted world—and his only chance at going home. Now, he
was back where he started—a prisoner of the Median Realms.
It was not that he
really missed his past life in the Human World—he couldn't remember much about
it now—but he knew that his one hope of reclaiming his past had been snatched
away. Some dark magic had ripped him away from Addy's side just when they were
about to finally escape this place.
The last thing he remembered
was whizzing through the fairy-path with Addy in a blur of light and colour ...
and just within sight of the stone statues of the Garden in the human world.
They had joined hands, so they could be sure they would not be separated. He
remembered Addy's long dark hair streaming behind her in the wind, her green
eyes dancing. He remembered the lightness in his heart ... how happy he had
been! How foolish! In the end it hadn't mat- tered ... . He had been ripped
away from her by some dark magic.
One tiny fame of hope
still fickered inside of him: At least Addy was safe—and if Addy found the
sun-dial, maybe she could fnd her way back to him. Even if no one else could,
Addy could fnd a way ...
.
Thank you for hosting!
Media Contact:
Dorothy Thompson
Pump Up Your Book
Email: thewriterslife@gmail.com
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