Counting down ...BLACK DAWN is coming to the US, Canada, UK, Australia and New Zealand on May 1! Check out the preorder links on your local independent bookstore, Barnes & Noble, Books A Million, Walmart, Waterstones UK, WH Smith UK, Whitcoulls New Zealand ... and many more fine retailers.
Now, on to the quote of the day! A twofer, because I had to miss yesterday (gale force winds, I'm on the OCEAN, don't judge, people!) ... first, an exchange between Shane and Naomi, and second, a little snippet of a big dramatic scene from Claire's POV!
“Any idea of how far we have to go?”
“No,” Naomi said, and furrowed her brow. “Why?”
“Just thinking that it might be better to go in a vehicle than on foot. For safety.”
“You,” Naomi said, “have a flamethrower, which is not of much use in the enclosed space of an automobile. Perhaps you might have considered that in your choice of weapons.”
“Not a car. A pickup,” he said without hesitation. “I get the back. Ladies in the front. Maximum speed, minimum exposure, plus a good firing platform for me and Claire, with the shotgun. Or you. Whichever.”
Naomi cocked her head and looked at him in silence for a few seconds, then nodded. “Very well,” she said. “Obtain one, if you please.”
“I always knew hot- wiring skills would come in handy, other than getting me more frequent flyer jail points,” Shane said.
The impact slammed the stock of the shotgun against her shoulder so hard that she felt something crack — bone, probably — and a white snap of pain sizzled through her from neck to heels. At the same time, the roar of the shot hit her like a physical slap.
But that was nothing compared to what the silver did to the draug.
The pellets didn’t have time to spread far, but tore a neat circular hole four inches across straight through the draug’s — well, head, she supposed, was the nearest equivalent. There was a shriek of high- pitched agony, and then the draug collapsed in a wet slap as it lost all consistency and shape. Claire yelped as she leaped out of the way of the wave of its . . . corpse? If it was dead, which she couldn’t assume. But it wasn’t coming for her, and that was what was important.
There were more of them, rising out of hidden pools in the muddy yard, out of the drain in the street, condensing out of the rain itself.
Oh God. There were so many.