Rough week-health issues, dealing with contracts, etc, didn’t realize the domain issues were needing to be dealt with.
Fixed now (although there might be another blip later on) and I owe people a Saturday snippet.
This is from an untitled RS that’s been contracted with St. Martins. I can’t tell you anything about it, because it’s not done yet, and I can’t tell you when it will be released, either. I can say it’s part of a new RS series…more along the lines of Fragile or Broken, though, then the Ash books, but still set in a small town. Beyond that, no info.
“Trinity.” His voice sounded firm and level, a fact that surprised him to no end, because he was terrified. “Damn it, open your eyes and look at me.”
Her lashes fluttered.
Then, slowly, she opened her eyes and stared at him. “Noah…?”
“Yeah. Don’t move yet. We need to know if you’re hurt.”
She swallowed. “I’m not. Well, my head a little but…” She groaned again and sat up, ignoring him when he told her again not to move. She reached up, touching the back of her head. “You cussed. Preachers don’t cuss.”
Noah didn’t bother asking where she’d heard that—it was Madison, she probably knew what size shoes he wore. “I’m not a preacher anymore, Trinity. Be still for me, okay, honey? I’m going to come down there, make sure you’re not hurt.”
“I’m not.” Her voice was grouchy and she sighed. “I’m pissed off. There’s a hole in my floor, Noah. A hole. Shit, now there’s two holes. And you didn’t put this one there.”
She went to go to her knees.
The bottom of his stomach dropped away as she froze and went white—white as death itself.
Her voice broke.
Following her gaze, he found himself staring.
It took his mind a minute to process it—another to adjust. Trinity was whimpering by the time he got down there, carefully, unwilling to take his eyes off the gruesome discovery.
He touched her shoulder and she hurled herself at him, burying her face against his neck.
He didn’t blame her. He didn’t want to look, either.
But he couldn’t look away.
Nothing could make him look away from the odd, almost mannequin like display stretched out on the dirt floor. It’s not real, some part of him thought. It couldn’t be real.
Parts of it were nothing but bone. That wasn’t the worst. The worst were the almost flesh-looking parts, bits that looked a strange, grayish-white.
“Tell me that isn’t a person,” Trinity said, her voice low and soft. “Please tell me it isn’t.”
Noah wished, more than anything, that he could do that.
Instead, he just cupped his hand over the nape of her neck.
In the back of his mind, he heard the words… Come on, Noah…come with me…