Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Author Extra: The Night Shift by Missouri Dalton

The Night Shift by Missouri Dalton

Two years of experience in the Night Shift and Fynn Adder still has a lot to
learn -- before his newest case drives him back off the wagon. Recently he's
been assigned a new partner, a trainee named Simon Murphy. In the middle of
breaking in his new partner, a grisly murder rocks the foundation of Fynn's
shaky sobriety. And not just any "regular" murder -- the murder of a child. 

As more ritual killings start to spread out across the city, Fynn, Jack, and
Simon scramble to track down the necromancer responsible and stop them
before they complete whatever ritual they're performing. Meanwhile, Simon
has to deal with the overly ambitious FBI Agent Gabriel Sheppard, whose
dogged determination to put Simon's mob boss in prison is putting Simon at
risk, and hindering Fynn's investigation. As if that wasn't enough, the king
of the elves wants to have a sit down, Tara’s birthday is only a few days
away, and it seems the family secrets just keep on coming. The tension and
pressure just never seems to end for Fynn and his crew. 

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Author Extra:

Fynn's early days

The earliest moment of my life I can remember with clarity was the day I
fell out of a tree in my parents’ backyard and broke my arm. I was eight.
All previous memories were erased when my brother’s soul was first sent
adrift from his body. Some of those memories come floating back on
occasion—but they were nothing as clear as falling out of that tree.
The pain, the sharp sound of cracking bone and my mother’s scream. I could
never forget it. 
This was another of those moments. There was smoke all around me, heat
pressing in and screaming voices from those unlucky souls I could not save.
I was being dragged out of the heat and misery by someone I could only
vaguely see, the smoke was too thick.
In the back of my mind I knew the man was Braum, dragging me up the stairs
to the emergency exit from the basement level. I knew he was bleeding badly,
as my way was made easier by the lubrication of more blood than I cared to
think about. My senses were in overdrive and as a woman on the fifth floor
suffocated, I felt her death. 
I felt all of their deaths. 
Braum was dying as well, I could feel it. But he kept going, and I heard
rather than saw the doors fling open to let in fresh air and sunlight. Heard
him shout for help and throw me out into the arms of someone else. 
I clutched at his arm. “No,” I croaked. 
“Got to be done.” He squeezed my hand and headed back into the fire. He had
to set off the purification seals—had to because if he didn’t the level of
death in the place would never be purged in our lifetime. Had to keep that
kind of stain from blighting Chicago. Had to be done now while there were
still living souls. 
No one left in the building would make it out.
“Sir?” I was being forced onto a gurney, an oxygen mask placed over my
face. I coughed into it. “Sir, what’s your name?”
I grappled for my badge, tugging it out of my pocket and shoving it into
the emergency responder’s hands. 
“Mr. Adder?”
I nodded, trying to slow down my heart and get my lungs back into my own
control. I coughed again, and it set off a spasm. I kept coughing until I
blacked out. 

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