Siren’s SongBy K. M Tolan
Science Fiction
$4.99 eBook
$12.95 Print
Amazon: https://goo.gl/I6zLj0
Kobo: https://goo.gl/t6JuPL
Champagne Books: http://goo.gl/WxBDnQ
He was of two minds about everything, and one of them wasn’t human.
EXCERPT
The mountain lion snarled, baring yellowed fangs. It should be running for the high country, not swishing its tail at him.
Swallowing back his growing dread, Scott eased two big knives from their holsters on his pant legs. “Get out while you can, kitty. I seriously don’t want to do this.”
Kitty didn’t understand the message. The animal’s shoulders bunched.
Fear rose in Scott’s throat. He edged closer to a red fir next to the cabin, knowing how nature intended these issues to resolve. Nature, however, didn’t figure on his particular madness. The source of his twisting guts had nothing to do with the cougar. It was already dead. He reached into a part of himself a legion of psychologists had failed to lock down. The imaginary fishbowl in his head. Scott shoved the lid back with a shudder. He saw her clearly, coiled up in a crystalline ball. He always saw her, thanks to those damn crystals stuck in his skull.
Water.
His personal demon stirred much like a snake rising from a lethargic torpor. Snakes didn’t sing, though. Nor did they look like a murderous sea angel rendered in crystal, fins rippling with bioluminescent menace.
Why do you wake me, thief? Her reply was a melodic vibration through his skull, serrated with venomous undertones.
“Something for you to kill.”
$12.95 Print
Amazon: https://goo.gl/I6zLj0
Kobo: https://goo.gl/t6JuPL
Champagne Books: http://goo.gl/WxBDnQ
He was of two minds about everything, and one of them wasn’t human.
EXCERPT
The mountain lion snarled, baring yellowed fangs. It should be running for the high country, not swishing its tail at him.
Swallowing back his growing dread, Scott eased two big knives from their holsters on his pant legs. “Get out while you can, kitty. I seriously don’t want to do this.”
Kitty didn’t understand the message. The animal’s shoulders bunched.
Fear rose in Scott’s throat. He edged closer to a red fir next to the cabin, knowing how nature intended these issues to resolve. Nature, however, didn’t figure on his particular madness. The source of his twisting guts had nothing to do with the cougar. It was already dead. He reached into a part of himself a legion of psychologists had failed to lock down. The imaginary fishbowl in his head. Scott shoved the lid back with a shudder. He saw her clearly, coiled up in a crystalline ball. He always saw her, thanks to those damn crystals stuck in his skull.
Water.
His personal demon stirred much like a snake rising from a lethargic torpor. Snakes didn’t sing, though. Nor did they look like a murderous sea angel rendered in crystal, fins rippling with bioluminescent menace.
Why do you wake me, thief? Her reply was a melodic vibration through his skull, serrated with venomous undertones.
“Something for you to kill.”
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