faith of the old woman; he could not endure. He could not free the girl: she didn’t want it. She saw no salvation in this man.
The detective heard her ranting, communicating with an unseen entity, begging that her meal would make her wendigo—a true child of the Anaye. Through ringing ears, disembodied laughter haunted the edges of his hearing.
Frankie strained against his bindings, trying to isolate the sound of the laughter—trying to pray, but he did not know how. Futility flooded him. He felt the sharp, ripping pain as the cannibal tore into his midsection, shaking his broken body like a crazed hyena.
His mind chastised him and a futile sense of irony blazed through his brain. His internal voice took on the same tone he’d teased Hugo with earlier in the car. Some detective I was… refused to examine the relevant evidence… dismissed too many conclusions, refused to look at all evidence. So many holes in a mystery that I’ll never solve.
As the teenager ripped through him, ate him alive, his pain receptors stopped firing and he could only think of his story being written as a terrible dime-store novel. My name is Detective Franklin Monroe, and this is the story of my death…
Dear reader,
Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, won’t you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer and share this title with your friends on social media? Discoverability is the lifeblood of success for indie authors and we can’t continue our craft without your help!
Thanks!
Christopher D Schmitz
About the author:
Christopher D Schmitz is an author of fiction and nonfiction as well as a regular blogger. He lives with his wife and two children and lead insanely active lives.
Following the completion of his first fantasy novel in the early 2000s, he began to work on lots of short fiction in order to refine his skills and went on to publish many pieces from 1,000-15,000 words in a variety of genres and in a number of venues. Putting fiction away for a while, he pursued post-graduate work where he received a new appreciation for nonfiction, but returned to his love for fiction with a greater commitment than ever.
In addition to writing and working with at-risk youth he is known known to play guitar (he played and sang in a rock band for several years,) or be found playing his bagpipes in seemingly random places. His wife thinks he’s a prima-donna like that.
Discover other titles by Christopher D Schmitz
The Last Black Eye of Antigo Vale
Burning the God of Thunder
Piano of the Damned
Shadows of a Superhero
The TGSPGoSSP 2-Part Trilogy
Dekker’s Dozen: A Waxing Arbolean Moon
Dekker’s Dozen: The Last Watchmen
Why Your Pastor Left
John: In the John
Wolf of the Tesseract
The Kakos Realm: Grinden Proselyte
The Kakos Realm: Rise of the Dragon Impervious
The Kakos Realm: Death Upon the Fields of Splendor
Connect with Me:
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/cylonbagpiper
Follow me on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/129258.Christopher_Schmitz
Friend me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/christopher.schmitz.509
Subscribe to my blog: https://authorchristopherdschmitz.wordpress.com/
Father of the Esurient Child Page 6
