The fog opened to reveal, directly ahead, a small green dragon waiting with open jaws. A green racer, and the kidnappers were dragging her daddy onto its back.
Sarae suddenly struggled to a sitting position, speaking garbled words, her eyes unseeing. “What happened? What the hell is going on?” She looked wildly around the RV – and then her eyes darkened and she turned back to Marcus. “And where the hell is Remy?”
A movement brought the girl’s eyes up from the pool of blood. The surviving man, still standing in the middle of the field, coolly drew out a cigar, lighted it, and placed it between his lips, all while gazing with complete satisfaction at the dead man.
Her shuddering cry broke the silence. “Murderer!”
From that brief summer dream she was aroused by some sudden noise. Starting up, she
saw the sheep bounding far away, while a large, gaunt, wolfish dog snuffed at
her hands and face.
Once before, Edna had seen this dog chained near the stables, and Hagar told her he was “very dangerous,” and was never loosed except at night. The expression of his fierce, red eyes as he stood over her made her freeze, her heart pounding.
Life gets complicated when the dead can talk to you any time they damn well please.
Preorder THE FLAME OF BATTLE here. And look at that lovely cover, guys. In the flame of battle, even the…
Completed the first draft of THE FLAME OF BATTLE, i.e. the epic Viking book, and it is *gulp* 91,522 words…
Here’s a chapter from Wandering Stars, the second of the White Oak Chronicles (but it can also be read as…
Stealthy as a bobcat, ringed tail low, Acorn four-footed it along the crookedy branch, then peered out from behind the trunk. “That’s no way to talk to a future chieftain,” Acorn muttered. “We’ll see who’s cross-eyed when I fall on top of your squirrelbrained head.”
“Scary, fascinating, but with a shimmer of hope – I could hardly put the book down.” Angel in the Whirlwind…