Sinclair Books discussion

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FERAL HEAT




This book is Sinclair Books' APRIL 2011 BOOK OF THE MONTH!!
Publisher: Romance Divine
Feral Heat is RD's #1 bestseller at AllRomanceEBooks - Dec. '09 - Jan. '10
Release Date: 27 Nov 2009
ISBN: 978-1-934446-72-0
Author: Elizabeth Black
Format: E-Book
Length: 22,571 words
Genre: Romance
Category: Erotic, Werewolf, Gay, Paranormal, Multiple-Partner, Threesome
Price: $4.99

Buy links:

Romance Divine

Amazon Kindle

Barnes And Noble

Bookstrand

All Romance E-Books

Blurb:

Grant and Sam were more than lovers; they shared a special secret. They also shared Grant’s roommate, Amelia, who was beginning to get suspicious about the two hunky males who disappeared every month. The sexy trio was not without their crises: Grant and Sam had a curse that continued to dog them, and Amelia’s soon-to-be ex had a bite that was as bad as his bark. It’s a howlin’ sexy time when author Elizabeth Black turns up the – Feral Heat.

EXCERPT

Amelia Scott was not a dog person. As a cat lover, she could not understand the appeal of mutts, especially large, lumbering, slobbering mutts that couldn't contain their excitement over the littlest things. While she enjoyed admiring Grant's lush body from afar, he came with a companion and she barely stomached Rasputin. Why couldn't he own a toy poodle for Christ's sake? Rasputin even towered over her ten year old son.

Grant was such a luscious piece of eye candy that she could forgive him for owning the most annoying dog in the world so she let it slide. Maybe she'd eventually get used to Rasputin, although she doubted it. Her ex-husband's parents owned three incredibly large dogs that were about as dumb as a bag of hammers. The German Shepherd mutt mix, the idiot Golden Retriever and the dumbest of them all – the Black Lab – often barked their heads off at rabbits that tormented them by sitting just on the other side of the fence where the mutts couldn't get to them. Those rabbits laughed at the dogs, knowing they were as safe as could be, yet those dogs yapped and barked for hours on end, desperately hoping to find a way past that fence to get an early dinner. It never happened.

Rasputin wasn't much better. She took in Rasputin because she needed Grant's money, and because she knew that having a hot, sexy man in the house was well worth the aggravation of Canis Doofus.

"Thanks for the wine. I'm sorry Rasputin lunged at you like that. It's only because he likes you, but that's no excuse. How can I make it up to you?"

As she admired Grant's sexy, well-formed chest, she dared to suggest something just this side of illicit, at least for her, and handed him a sea sponge.

"You can wash my back. That's a good start."

"Your wish is my command."

As he leaned over her, she smelled his musky scent mixed with a spicy cologne. He squeezed water from the sponge onto her back and then rubbed the sponge into her skin. If only her ex could see her now! Here she sat, alone and naked, in a tub full of bubbles with a hot, sexy man pouring water over her back. If her ex knew what she was doing he would probably sue her again.

She admired Grant's luscious torso and then she spied scratch marks on his shoulder. These weren't shallow scratches he got from moving boxes and bumping into furniture in his delightfully clumsy way. No, these scratches burned an ugly red on his tanned skin, deep enough to be painful but not deep enough to require stitches. Not noticing them before she wondered where they came from and if they hurt. Taking a chance, she reached out one wet hand and pressed her palm against his warm skin over the scratches. Damn, he felt good! All those muscles rippling on his shoulders and chest, and here I sit naked with him tending to me. This is too good to be true.

"How did you get those scratches? They look painful."

"They sting a little but they're not that bad. I got them when I was hiking in Dogtown yesterday."

"Haven't you been listening to the news lately? Aren't you afraid of running into those wild wolves?"

"I'm not afraid of them. You know Rasputin is part wolf, right? He's half Russian Wolfhound and half wolf. That's why he gets worked up all the time. Hyper mutt, isn't he?"

"What about those wolves, though? They've been killing the wild turkeys in the area and I hear they've even mauled some pets. I think you should keep Rasputin in the house at night and stay out of Dogtown."

Dogtown was a copse of forest about ten miles wide that hikers and mountain bikers loved to visit for some healthy recreation. Ever since the wolf sightings had started three months ago, the authorities told locals to stay out of the area because it was too risky. Isolated and densely packed, if Grant were attacked by a wolf in Dogtown he would be stranded there, unable to get medical help unless a hiker or mountain biker stumbled upon him. Amelia didn't want him to take a chance of ending up hurt by hiking in Dogtown with a wolf sighting in effect for the area.

A recommended read. Book fans know what they like and it was book fans that voted, Feral Heat, the book of the month.

Here is an excerpt of my latest novel, Five Days Notice!

The sound of laughter echoed off the walls of Ariel’s apartment. It was the sound of two people not afraid to open themselves up to one another. There was no attempt to contain their feelings or emotions. They simply sat on the couch laughing their asses off, as they enjoyed the start of a third bottle of wine. ‘Okay, okay, okay.’ River tried to fan down the laughter with his hands. ‘If your life was on the line and you had to date one of them, which one would you go out with?’
‘I am not saying,’ Ariel blushed and looked away.
River knew what that reaction meant, but he replied with. ‘Alan?’
‘Shut your mouth,’ she slapped him on the arm, as River burst into another fit of laughter from the overly dramatic shocked expression upon her face. ‘That is not even funny,’ she said even though she too started to giggle like some sort of school girl. His positive energy just seemed to make her want to smile. ‘Okay. If you had to date any one of them who would it be?’
‘Honestly?’ River slurred. The wine had gone straight to his head.
‘I want you to give one hundred percent honesty,’ countered Ariel.
River nodded his head in a slow drunk gesture. ‘I would date you.’
‘You big fibber,’ Ariel wouldn’t believe a word and shook her head in disagreement. ‘I am a woman and even I know Kerry is hot. And Hope is pretty in that sort of shy emotional type of way. They are beautiful. I am not.’
‘Yes you are,’ River cut his hand through the air like a knife. ‘You wanted an honest answer and I gave you the answer I truly believe. If I could take anyone out it would be you.’
‘Why?’ Ariel sipped at her wine.
‘Do you really need to ask? I would ask you out because I fancy you.’ River laughed. Ariel did not. ‘You are my best friend. I have never had a friend until I met you and now you are the greatest thing in my life.’ Ariel could feel her heart starting to beat faster within her chest with each word that left his mouth. ‘You make me laugh, you make me smile, you make me feel good about myself and you make me feel so happy. I love talking to you and I love that we have all the same interests and I think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.’
‘River stop,’ Ariel held up her hand. In her heart she wanted him to go on, but she had to save him from himself. ‘You are drunk and you don’t mean these things. Please stop before you say something you will end up regretting in the morning.’
‘No,’ he placed his wine down on the coffee table and shuffled closer towards her. He was now facing her. They were no longer talking from either end of the couch. River had entered her personal space and he wanted her to know the truth. ‘I may be drunk, but that does not change the fact that you are beautiful. No, not just beautiful. You are special and unique. Everything about you is perfect.’ Ariel swallowed down the lump in her throat.
Where had he gained this confidence from?
‘You have the most perfect hair, and eyes and your smile always makes my heart melt. When I am near you I cannot stop myself from looking at your legs, your lips and your breasts.’ River slowly started to lean in towards her. Ariel knew that she should turn away and tell him to stop, but she wanted this so badly. ‘You are the most amazing and the most beautiful woman in the world,’ he spoke no louder than a whisper, as his face moved closer towards hers.
‘River we shouldn’t…’ Ariel didn’t sound like she wanted to stop.
‘Why shouldn’t we?’ he looked down at her lips. The lips he wanted to kiss.
‘I…’ Ariel didn’t get to finish.
River pressed his lips against hers.
Butterflies began to kick up a storm within her stomach.
A wave of tingles danced along her spine.
It was a sweet gentle kiss. It was a kiss that held all their true emotions for one another and on some unconscious level they both knew that their relationship had moved beyond friendship a long time ago.
River pulled back from the embrace and smiled. ‘I have wanted to kiss you for so long, but I never knew that it would feel so amazing.’ Ariel looked deep into the windows of his soul. He had such an innocent look about him. These were not words spoken simply to get her into bed. This is how he actually felt. Ariel wanted to laugh and cry all at the same time. She had always thought she had been kidding herself about her feelings for River, but he felt the same way about her.
Ariel leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.
River replied by adding greater pressure to the kiss.
Ariel opened her mouth and welcomed his tongue inside. A warm sensation was starting to build within the depths of her body. The feel of his tongue rolling within her mouth was causing her panties to become slightly damp. Her hands stroked along the side of his smooth clean shaven face and she stroked her fingers through his shaggy blonde hair. The kiss was starting to turn into something darker and deadlier, as they tilted their heads from side to side and allowed their tongues to continue their private dance. She could feel his hand upon her ribcage. The young man had placed it on the part of her body that wouldn’t cause her to feel uncomfortable or nervous.
Was he testing how far she wanted to go?
Slowly she could feel his hand inching its way up towards her breasts, as they continued to make out. A wave of disappointment washed over River, as Ariel pulled back from the kiss.
‘We have to be up really early tomorrow,’ said the voice of reason. Ariel got up off the couch. ‘I should really go to bed.’ She headed towards the bedroom door and then paused. ‘Are you coming?’ she smiled a devious smile and headed into the bedroom. River didn’t need asking twice.

I MOVED THIS INTO THE EXCERPT SECTION.

Post by T.D

Who Put Grandpa in the Garden!

“I can't believe I fell asleep. Why didn't you wake me?” She touched one
of the plump, tomatoes that were growing on the vine.
“You were sleeping so well I hated to bother you.” Sam gave her a peck on
her cheek.
She turned to hug Sam when she caught sight of the box out the corner of
her eye. A sudden panic came over her. “Oh, my God, what have you done?"
Chelsea screamed as she jerked up the empty box.
“What?” Sam asked in dismay.
“Where is he?” Chelsea was running through the garden like a mad
woman. She could feel the breath going out of her.
“Chelsea, stop! What are you talking about?” Sam tackled her as she flew
past him.
“My Grandpa was in that box. What the hell did you do with him?”
Chelsea’s tight grip on the empty box released and it fell to the ground.
“I was moving your car and saw the box in your car.” Sam paused. “I thought it was that special dirt that you talked about someone giving you from
work to put in the garden, Wasn’t that what it was?”
“No! You idiot!” It was my grandpa." She dropped to the ground tears
rolling down her face. Looking out into the garden, she wondered how she was
going to explain to her family that Grandpa was now part of the garden.

Matching Wits with VenusThanks for reading!

Chapter One

In the valley below the thirty foot white block letters that spelled out HOLLYWOOD, between Ripley’s “Believe It or Not” museum and a string of psychic reading rooms, sat a glass-front shop with a rose-colored door. Above the storefront’s small bay window a pink and purple sign proclaimed Happily Ever After By Amelia. Inside, Amelia Coillard stretched out her hands to receive a large almond vanilla pie.
“It took me all night to make this,” a tall woman wearing an enormous pear shaped diamond on her left hand said, “But I wanted you to know how grateful I am. Really, Amelia, you’re the best. David and I want to invite you to our wedding. On June twenty-first.”
Amelia bowed slightly and smiled.
“Glad we could help Susanna. Don’t forget to tell your friends about us.”
The woman nodded, then strode past the wrought iron café table where Amelia interviewed clients, out onto the empty sidewalk.
“We’ve got another wedding, “ Amelia called out to her assistant Jennie as she stepped into the back room and placed the pie on a distressed pine sideboard, next to the boxes of chocolates, baskets of figs, bottles of champagne, potpourri sachets and bundles of beeswax candles she’d received from satisfied clients.
“Let me guess,” Jennie replied, rubbing her hands together. “The summer solstice.”
Amelia nodded.
“Flowers in bloom, longer days, baby animals at the zoo. It all means only one thing: June brides. I don’t know how people can be so hopeful.”
“Hmm, well you’d better get ready. Your first client will be in to fill out her patented personality profile in ten minutes. You know, she actually asked me if I’d mail her the profile and let her fill it out at home! As if we’d release your proprietary secrets!”
“I don’t know what I’d do without you to look after me.” Amelia chuckled.
She reached inside the little cupboard in the corner and withdrew the fitted white crocheted sweater she’d gotten two years ago at the Rose Bowl Flea Market. The seller had told her the cardigan had been part of the trousseau of one of the old stars who’d lived up in the Hollywood Hills. Amelia wasn’t sure she believed the woman’s story, but the sweater’s delicate pattern reminded her of wedding lace, so she wore it every time she met with a client. And, though she never told Jennie, Amelia was convinced that the sweater from another woman’s trousseau was as close as she’d ever come to clothing herself in bridal wear.
While Amelia was pulling the sweater over her black mini-dress and adjusting her wavy auburn hair over its pearl trimmed collar, she saw a photo smiling out at her from the back of the cupboard. Inside the silver frame stood an extremely thin young man, his eyes protruding below penciled on eyebrows, a blue bandana wrapped around his head. As Amelia reached out to caress the photo she heard someone rapping on the back window.
“Justin,”she called out to the young man in the red and black leather jacket, torn jeans and scruffy tennis shoes.
Justin’s long hair needed a trim and he could use a shave, as well as a bottle of sunblock. Like many of the others who bedded down on the streets around Hollywood and Vine, his face was testimony to the hard realities of living rough under the merciless California sun.
“I’ve got something for you,” she said as she opened the door.
Amelia scooped up a napkin, fork and bottle of water from the table that held her teakettle. She handed them to Justin, along with a plate bearing half of the almond vanilla pie.
“Thanks Amelia.”
“Have a good day.”
Amelia watched as Justin disappeared into the alley. She gazed up into the hills in the distance, at the faded ocher stucco mansion that stood atop the highest point. Long verandas seemed to wrap around the house, though it was impossible to know for certain if they ran across the back of the home, since the far side of the walled property was not accessible by road or foot. It sat atop a fault line; no one dared venture onto the rocky terrain for fear of disrupting the crusty earth beneath the bougainvillea bushes.
“Don’t,” Jennie said softly as she sidled up next to Amelia a moment later.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t go down that path, Lia. It’s not going to take you anywhere you want to be.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Come on, let it go.”
Amelia sighed.
“Do you have any idea how many cakes, cookies, tarts, baskets and bouquets I left on those stone steps? Do you know, I used to climb up to that gate every year on Christmas Eve and what should’ve been my parents’ anniversary and leave her these hand-written letters I’d actually sealed with a kiss. I taped those little Hershey’s candies to the envelope when I was little and then, in high school, I slathered red lipstick on my lips and ran my mouth across the back of the envelope. I can’t believe I was so stupid!”
“We all do dumb things.”
“Yeah but come on! Believing in the existence of an ancient Roman goddess AND that she lived right in my own neighborhood? Talk about desperate.”
Jennie laughed.
“It does sound absurd when you put it that way. Plus everybody knows that house has been abandoned for decades. Why they don’t add it to the Haunted Hollywood tour is beyond me.”
Amelia nodded. As she took a final look at the mansion Amelia thought she saw a flash of light shoot out from its left flank.

****

Inside the ocher palazzo Venus flicked her cream colored scarf over her slender shoulders as she peered through the ultra-powerful telescope she had trained on Happily Ever After By Amelia.
“You have to do something about that woman or before you know it they’ll be tearing down all those statues of me and calling her the goddess of love.”
Venus turned away from the window and looked at her son. Cupid was sitting on the edge of a pink silk sofa, a thick clutch of papers between his muscular hands.
“If you’d just take a look at these spreadsheets, I think you’ll see I’ve discovered a way to streamline everything. I’ll be able to shoot twice the arrows in half the time if I don’t have to keep backtracking. All you have to do is make your matches in a more geo-centric manner.”
Venus held up her manicured hand.
“When I want your advice I’ll ask for it.”
“Mother, please. I’ve given a lot of though as to how we can modernize, maybe even….”
“Modernize?”
Venus stared at her son, who was looking back at her with eyes the color of Lake Cuomo. He opened his mouth again, revealing the slight chip on his front tooth. It was the only flaw on his perfectly proportioned face.
“I don’t want to hear any more of this nonsense. Where are your arrows?”
Cupid shook his head in disgust and tapped his foot impatiently against the floor, whose planks were made of wood imported from Italy.
“Cupid! Where’s your quiver?”
Cupid pointed at the monogrammed leather case lying against the wall, beneath the portrait of Venus that Remus had commissioned after she’d matched up the first inhabitants of Rome. Light glistened off the tips of the golden arrows poking out of the top of the quiver.
“Now listen to me. I want you to shoot this Amelia with the most powerful arrow you’ve got.”
“Mother, I’ve got a better idea.”
Cupid began to leaf through the stack of papers.
“I said, shoot her! Do you hear me?”

Okay all here is an excerpt from my upcoming June 15 release, Love Never Fails,, from Rebel Ink Press:

All she had to do was close her eyes and she could see it, that sleepy small town cuddled by the rugged Ozark hills, sprawling over the hills and down into the valley. Each tree-lined street, the town square, the high school football stadium, and the parks were all as vivid as if she'd just left last week instead of five years ago. In memory, Neosho had the frenetic quality of a dream or nightmare, a surreal mystique that didn't seem real. She seldom thought of it, just as she'd tried so hard to block Reid from memory. She couldn't think of him every day or the pain would devour her so she'd trained herself not to think, never to remember. Once he spoke to her again, however, all of her defense mechanisms vanished like rising smoke from a campfire.
His voice on the phone sounded the same, evoked a thousand memories, and twisted her heart with painful spasms. She wondered if he looked the same after five years seasoning and if he'd see the girl he remembered in her face or if she'd look like a stranger.
Whatever prompted him to call her was serious or he'd have never phoned. Caroline had no idea how he even got her number given that it was unlisted. She'd forbidden her few close friends to give it out to anyone and there was no one in Neosho now who would know it. She lost touch with her many of her friends long ago, in the early months of exile, afraid to hear from them because she knew they'd just want to talk about Reid. She had no family anymore, no one except Aunt Julia and the most she sent her was a card each Christmas. She said all she needed to say her aunt on the day she left Neosho forever, leaving behind a life in shambles, a reputation in tatters, and Reid.
Caroline stared at the clouds that wafted past the airliner windows as memories long denied flew at her like birds before an oncoming storm. Her best memories were with Reid, some of the bad featured Aunt Julia, and a few others were the worst; ones that focused on her loss and the secret even Reid didn’t know about. To return she would have to face them all, Reid first and then the others. To face her aunt, she'd have to confront old demons and she wasn’t sure if she had the strength. Although she wanted to, meeting Reid again would be hard enough.
Caroline closed her eyes and pushed all the thoughts away except the memories of Reid, as the plane soared through the sky. At the Northwest Arkansas Regional Airport, the closest destination she could book on short notice, she rented a car and began the hour drive north, back into Missouri, back into the Ozark hills where she grew up. With summer past, the first brilliant colors of fall painted the landscape with orange, yellow, and red.
Caroline was almost home and she was terrified.

Nice excerpts, everyone.

Here's one of my favorite scenes from Sylvianna.

Once they were out the door, Chris sat down on her sofa. He knew she would sit sideways resting against the back of the left side of the sofa. He settled himself in the middle cushion, facing the left side. Sarah poured a glass of wine. She handed him the glass and sat down. He took a sip and handed the glass back to her.

Her finger circled the rim of the glass. “So, love of mine, what do you want help with?”

His eyes slid shut as he savored those words in her voice. After a moment, he opened his eyes and looked at her again. She leaned against the sofa, her hand inches from his. “Enjoying this. Not feeling ripped in two when I look at you.”

“I can’t do that for you. I can’t make you forgive yourself.”

“Can you forgive me for not being a better man to you?”

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

“Yes, there is. I’m not yours, can’t be yours—not now at least, but I can’t stop acting like I am. As Pat will remind me tomorrow, possibly with his fists, that’s not kind.”

She walked over to her computer, brought it to the coffee table, and turned on “Okay” again. “Listen.”
She took the glass from him and kept her eyes on his while the song played again. When it wrapped she said, “I’ll take what you can give me. If that means this chaste romance, then that’s what it is.”

“Chaste romance. I guess that’s a way to put it. Though I’d prefer something less chaste.”

She shook her head. “That’s a bad bargain. All or nothing, Chris. I… want you too much to just fool around. If you won’t sleep with me, don’t kiss me.” He thought about it as her computer moved through a few songs. She was right. He didn’t want to fool around either, and he was fairly sure he couldn’t handle the tension of just making out with her.

She took another sip from the glass and one more. He had the feeling she was working up to asking something that made her uncomfortable. Finally, Sarah asked, “Why are you here? She’s the love of your life. I can feel how much she means to you. I think I know how you feel about me, and if this isn’t adultery, it’s certainly infidelity.”

He looked at her very intensely and stopped his hand from stroking hers. “I’m here because it hurts too much to not be here. That’s why I feel ripped in two. This isn’t me living up to the words of my vows or, for that matter, the intent.”

“And her?” He realized how much she didn’t want to ask that question. Sarah’s pride made it difficult to allow herself to wonder, let alone ask, about his wife.

“Her.” He took the glass from Sarah and drank more of it, half looking for words, half working up the courage to say what he felt. “We lived together for more than one hundred years, had five children, and mourned one of them. She fought my war and advised me. She saved my life: held my body in her hands and put it back together when I was so far gone the greatest healers of our clan were getting my tomb ready. She loved me more than I had any right to be loved. When she left it was because she couldn’t love me more than what was right. It’s been twenty-two years, and she is sliding further and further into memory. I come here, I laugh with you, talk with you, study with you, and I enjoy you. I want you. It tears at me because I should be honoring her. She and our children deserve better than me.”

Sarah thought for a moment and then asked, “When you find the portal, is there any way for you to go back?”

This turn in the conversation made him feel sick. He didn’t want to lie to her. He didn’t want to tell her the truth even more. “No. It’s a one-way trip. That’s why we haven’t seen Mildred yet. It won’t come out until the end because once it’s out it can’t get back.”

“I thought you said anything was possible with magic.”

“It might be, but I don’t know how to do it, and I don’t know anyone else who knows how to do it.”

“How did Autumn get you here in the first place?” He realized she was trying to find a way for him to get back; it made him ache with guilt.

“She opened a door. She doesn’t have the power to do it now. If she can find an existing door, she can go through, but she can’t make one from scratch here. We tried when we first got here. It didn’t work.” They had ‘tried’ for Mike’s benefit. Going back and taking the fight to Mildred had been one of his first suggestions. Chris honestly didn’t know if Autumn couldn’t do it anymore or, knowing opening the door was a ridiculously bad idea, didn’t do it.

“There is absolutely no hope of you ever seeing her again?”

“No.” He hoped that answer would shut down this line of conversation.

“If she had died would you have remarried?”

“No.” He felt her mood crash. “I couldn’t have legally remarried. It’s the easiest way to protect your heirs. No stepchildren to fight over the inheritance. No one would have blinked if I had taken a lover or a concubine. Would I have? If you had asked me this time last year I would have said, ‘No.’” He took another drink. His pinky brushed her hand when he returned the glass to her. “You said you’ll take what I can give. Can you share me with a ghost?”

Sarah brushed his face gently with her fingers. It felt like a kiss on the forehead, a gesture of acceptance and understanding. “When she’s a ghost, when she’s the love of your youth, when she’s dead and mourned and you are at peace with it, yes, I’ll share you.”

“Fair enough. Can I stay here tonight? I’ll make us breakfast in the morning.”

“You can always stay over, especially if you’re offering to make me breakfast.”

“Good. What’s the reading for this week?”

Here's the prologue from A New Dream which is published by Astraea Press.

The red convertible cut a path through the moonlight, its headlights dancing along the arched limbs of the trees above the road.

“Oh, Matt, it’s such a beautiful night,” Stacey declared with a sigh. “I’m going to miss you when you leave tomorrow.”

Matt reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. “I’ll miss you too, but if I don’t report on time, I’m in trouble with the coach.”

“That’s what I get for falling in love with a pro football player,” Stacey teased, her blonde hair turned to frosted silver by the light of the full moon above them.

Matt squeezed her hand that wore his engagement ring. “It’s too late to back out now,” he teased. “You’re mine.”

“Mmm, do I like the sound of that!”

The car rounded a curve, and without warning a deer
bounded across the road. “Look out!” Stacey screamed.
Matt braked sharply to avoid the animal. The tires slid on a patch of loose gravel in the road, and he lost control of the convertible. It fishtailed and started to spin in the road.

Matt hauled the steering wheel to correct the slide, but it was useless. The car turned around once more and skidded backwards for a short distance before it charged off the road. It jumped a steep ditch and went airborne. All Matt could see was a blur of trees and
darkness as the car careened into the woods. It made a lazy turn in the air and came to rest bottom side up.

The last thing he remembered was the sound of Stacey’s
screams.