In Shambles … that was my
life. I sat in a cell all day wondering what could have been. Thinking
about it
only made me feel worse. I was lost until someone left me this book about
people just like me. People that made mistakes … people that tried to redeem
themselves … people that failed. It helped me cope with the things I’ve done.
It helped me find peace.
Makes a great gift, too! |
To
those whose lives are In Shambles,
crack open this book. See what it can do for you …
Nine
authors, including Kevin J. Anderson, have contributed to In Shambles to create a spine-chilling collection of stories. Following is an excerpt from And into a Watery Grave by R.A.
McCandless:
Constable
Aubrey Hartmann thought she’d left all the horror and pain behind her. A veteran of the Cimarron battlefields,
Aubrey’s commission in the sleepy town Aqualinne was supposed to guarantee a
quiet retirement from the army. But when
a murdered woodcutter is found at one of the mill ponds, Aubrey’s world will be
tossed into shambles as she tries to track down the killer:
“The fae aren’t
like the stories,” Aubrey said. “Or rather only half like the stories. They’re
practically immortal, with experience both broader and deeper than any mortal
can possibly have, even an empress. We’re mere children to them. They play
games with us and tease us—they like to see us embarrassed and foolish. They
have a darker side as well. You don’t want to make one of them angry. It rarely
ends well.”
“Like being
spanked by your da?” Sergeant Hamnar laughed.
“Yes, except
with teeth and claws and blood.”
“How do you keep
from that?”
“Avoidance,
mostly,” Aubrey said with a shrug. “Fae don’t usually seek us out, we tend to
trespass without knowing. Keep out of their way. Endure them when you can’t.”
They were within
a few dozen yards of the naiad, and Aubrey held out her hand, opening it to
expose the bright silver to the sunlight.
She rocked her hand lightly, back and forth.
“Ooooo,” the
naiad responded. It was an ethereal note
that rose and fell and rose again. It
sounded like Brunhilde’s operatic ending.
Aubrey continued
to move her hand back and forth, and moved forward toward the naiad, whose full
attention was on the two women. Aubrey
moved closer to pond’s edge, holding her hand out over the water. The coin slipped from one side to the other,
and finally dropped into the water with a soft plop.
“Oooo,” the
naiad said again.
The fae skated
over the water, leaving two V-like trails in her wake. She stopped a few feet from where Aubrey and
Hamnar stood on the shore, knelt down on the water, and reached in to retrieve
the silver coin.
“Ahh, so pretty,
so pure, so shiny,” she mused. She
turned the silver over and over with her long, delicate fingers.
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