On a rainy night in 1971 the cruise ship Crescent Star vanished in the North Atlantic without a trace. No crew, no lifeboats and no wreckage was ever found, in spite of a three-week search.
Published: April 21st, 2016
On a rainy night in 1971 the cruise ship Crescent Star vanished in the North Atlantic without a trace. No crew, no lifeboats and no wreckage was ever found, in spite of a three-week search.
Two days ago, she crashed through and sank a pleasure yacht off the coast of New York, leaving five people dead. The ship has answered no hails and no one appears to be aboard. Agent Raven Storm and a forensic team lead by Aspen Kincaid have been tasked to investigate and bring the ship in, if possible.
What happened to 720 crew and passengers and where has the ship been for 44 years?
Clue by macabre clue, Raven uncovers the truth of the Crescent Star and faces a villain from beyond the grave.
But how can she stop something she can’t see, can’t touch, and that won’t hesitate to use the ones she loves against her?
EXCERPT
Raven Storm sat up in bed, a scream fighting behind her lips. It had happened again; her father in the shadows, the boom of her pistol, and his body dropping. She’d had the nightmare every night since coming home. Her psyche eval was so bad she’d been dropped from field duty and was investigating UFO sightings in Montana. Not her best job ever.
She slid out of bed and padded toward the stairs. Around her was the loft bedroom she shared with her fiancé, Aspen. The walls were painted a soft lavender that was almost grey and matched the carpet. Their king-size bed was covered with a blue flowered bedspread and the nightstands were antiques sent by Valentina from Chicago.
Raven ran a hand over the Maltese Falcon poster in the stairwell and turned out of habit to the kitchen, where two scoops of coffee and some hot water soon produced a brew that would be guaranteed to keep her up the rest of the night. She was just sitting down to savor a cup when Aspen’s cell started chirping from its charging plate on the counter.
Who the hell is calling her at this hour? Raven wondered.
She picked it up and slid her finger over the screen. “Storm.”
There was a pause and then, “Agent Storm? Is Aspen Kincaid there?”
“She’s sleeping, like normal people, who is this?”
“This is Kane, I’m with Agent in Charge King’s office. Please get her, its important,” Kane said.
“Who is it?”
Raven looked up to see Aspen leaning over the upstairs railing, her purple hair trailing around her face.
“King’s office,” Raven replied.
Aspen wiped sleep from her eyes. “They have a case for you?”
Raven shrugged. “It’s for you, probably a crime scene.”
Aspen hurried down the steps and took the phone.
“This is Aspen.”
She listened for a moment, and turned to Raven, eyes wide. She pressed the speaker button and held the phone out. “Mr. Kane, can you say that again?”
“We have a code thirteen emergency. The cruise ship Crescent Star is carrying an unknown preternatural threat and heading toward New York City. I need you to lead a team onboard and stop it before it reaches the one mile marker. You’ll be briefed enroute.”
“Kane, this is Storm. Aspen isn’t a field agent, who gave the order?” Raven asked.
“King, Agent Storm.”
Aspen shook her head. “He knows I’m not an agent, Kane. I’m a lab-rat, I only go with Raven on certain cases, he can’t—”
“You have basic field training and he handpicked you, Kincaid. You’re on a chopper in twenty minutes, a car is on the way.”
“I want to talk to King,” Raven said.
“He didn’t ask for you, Storm,” Kane said.
“I don’t give a shit, Mr. Kane,” Raven said. “Code thirteen is the catastrophe code, you’re not sending Aspen—”
“This conversation is over, Agent Storm. Agent Kincaid, be ready,” Kane said.
The line went dead. Raven stared at the phone, then looked at Aspen.
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About the author:
Skye, who holds degrees in forensic science and psychology, lives in the middle of nowhere in a tiny little town of about 700 people. The small town life appeals to her and she finds it conducive to writing. When she isn’t setting quill to parchment (okay she actually uses a laptop, but quills are cool) Skye can be found practicing Muay Thai, camping, motorcycling and hiking with her psychotic Siberian husky, Piper. Once a year she participates in an uncontrolled “float trip.” Whether she wants to or not. It’s a camping thing.
Skye is also a proud gamer girl and an avid fan of role-playing games. She currently participates in a weekly Shadowrun game held at a local gaming store (stop in and say ‘hi!’) and is the writer and game-master of a private Fantasy Flight game held once a month.
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