A new collaborative book is coming out soon called The Bitten. All proceeds are going to my writing friend, Brandon Hale, who was recently diagnosed with cancer. He’s a trooper and though he’s won some tough battles already, the war is just starting. Brandon writes about vampires, so a group of us decided to throw together an anthology in his name – vampire and werewolf themed. I do hope you grab a copy when it is released. Not just because Brandon has cancer, or because I have a short in the anthology, but because the entire collection is awesomesauce. Below in an excerpt from Madness, my contribution…
“Yep, that’s her all right.”
The Santa Ana wind howled through the trees so fiercely, Detective Kevan Capalbo was certain any trace evidence had long ago been blown away into the hills of the Cleveland National Forest.
“How you figure? Cap, there’s not much left of her face.” The younger man ran a hand through his thick hair and stared at everything other than the decomposing body at their feet.
“Look at the inside of her left ankle,” Capalbo said.
“No shit. I see it now – a rose tat. Yeah, looks like this is our missing girl.”
With a sigh, the seasoned detective finally risked pulling his pad out of his back pocket to jot down notes. The wind lifted the small papers up in a flurry and eventually he cursed, swapping the notepad for his cell.
“Tell me what you see,” he said to his partner, who was once again glancing at everything around them and not at the naked woman lying face up at the base of a large oak tree.
“Uh. Ligature marks on both wrists and ankles – suggests she was restrained. Defensive wounds on her left hand. And…ah shit…”
“Yeah. I saw them too.” Detective Capalbo stepped around the body carefully and squatted above the torso. Using a gloved finger, he brushed aside a section of black hair and pointed to the small puncture holes above the woman’s left shoulder. “Looks like our biter is back,” he said with a sigh.
“Just wait till the press gets word of this,” his partner scoffed.
“They won’t. Not today anyway. Get the body bagged and out of here. The less people see – the better. I don’t want any of this out till we know for sure it’s our man.” With a groan, he stood and walked around the nude woman, standing near the soles of her dirty feet with his arms crossed at his chest.
“What is it, Cap?”
With his cool gaze fixed on the small rose tattoo, he gritted his teeth together and said above the roar of the wind, “Rayns, I have to nail this fucker.”
Copyright, Trish Marie Dawson