Now, a gift from our author... This is the beginning of DARKTIME.
�pale moonlight shone down on the rain-soaked street�the sounds of the city are muffled by the waves from Lake Michigan creeping up, then down the Chicago shore�the tall, quiet buildings witness madness�desire�
The blood was dark, practically black and viscous, oily, and not what I craved... I wasn�t sure if it would sate my hunger. In my misery, with the room temperature fluid oozing down my throat, I dreamed of tasting the nectar of Michael.
The snake writhed vainly as I became more intimate with its veins, and finally twisted up to watch me as it died. I stared right back at it, saw the flat pools of its eyes go glassy, and then at the last, reflect the dark hollows and pale round face that was me.
�Violet� I heard him say, and I turned in a blur to find nothing behind me but shadows and the dead echoes of noises on the deserted Navy Pier. Distant pounding in the night sounded like the hammering of the nails on a coffin lid---mine, perhaps, or maybe the boxes of the dead I had created. I had to get free. I was cursed.
Copyright 2007 by Ra Thorn
...for more of DARKTIME and all of the witchy HUSH, visit this site for publication dates and places OR email Ra with the right sort of request and you may get an advance reading script in your inbox...
Ra writes sporadically--to herald lack of sleep, ennui, excitement and grief. Style choices have no discernable pattern--other than dark...generally...and are at the whim of the moment; genres fare no better.
Ra has been published in arenas as diverse as newspapers and poetry anthologies, and has begun appearing in mainstream fiction as she infiltrates other unsuspecting avenues.
She urges everyone everywhere to read everything possible, take responsibility for themselves, and to quit blaming anyone or anything else for personal failure. And to fall insanely in passion as often and as darkly and as deeply as possible.
