I'm currently working on OCEAN SLAYS - book two of Ocean Kills. And wanted to share a small excerpt from Callan's first chapter.
If you're interested in reading OCEAN KILLS the links are here:
(Disclaimer: Unedited version.)
OCEAN SLAYS (expected publication April 2013)
“I want my bloody phone call.” I shouted at no one in particular. I sounded like a fucking parrot—repeating myself over and over since I’d been arrested and brought to the Perth Police Station. My prison cell was a tiny excuse of space with a metal toilet, no sink, and a plank of wood they called a bed. It was only temporary. My assigned accommodation before I was processed and shuttled off to be denied bail and await a court date.
I'd locked enough men myself into similar cells in Sydney, but at least I never kept the perps cuffed. What was the point in keeping them shackled when they were behind bars?
I gritted my teeth as I tried to shift. My shoulders were sore from the rough handling by the security guard at Adrian Mathieu’s apartment, and my skin rubbed raw where the cuffs irritated me. Plus, I didn't make it any easier on myself by fidgeting and squirming. I couldn't sit still.
I was here because of Ocean. I was arrested for a murder I watched her commit. A murder that I did nothing to stop. Was I guilty? An accomplice? By the lines of the law, yes, I was incredibly guilty. I allowed Ocean to bash in an old man's head with a whiskey bottle. But I couldn't agree that he didn't deserve it. Karma had finally found him and extracted the toll of raping Ocean when she was eight and taking her family from her.
My hands curled behind my back. The metal rings around my wrists jingled as my shoulders tensed. Despite being horrified at watching a death committed right in front of me, I was happy for her. She’d put some of her ghosts to rest and she needed to do that.
I sighed heavily; my slightly too long hair tickled my forehead. I understood why she killed, and I wanted to believe she was just so caught up in the emotions and horror of what happened to remember to take me with her, but in my soul I knew what she said to me was true.
She didn't want me.
She'd locked away her heart and no matter how much hammering, cursing, and maneuvers I pulled, I couldn't unlock it without a key. And she didn't have one. I hoped in some corny way that perhaps I could be a lock-smith and pick the lock. To force her to admit she needed companionship, love. But I was wrong. And it hurt too deeply to keep prodding at the hole she’d left in my own chest.
My head pounded as I glared at the wall. “None of that matters,” I muttered under my breath. None of it mattered because I wasn't interested in a woman who could leave an innocent person to take the rap—to suffer for a crime they didn't commit.
It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. And it showed me more about the darker side of Ocean than I wanted to see. It hurt me deeper than anything she could have done, and made me doubt everything.
I thought she was the perfect one for me. Someone who had secrets but was willing to share. It was all a lie and I was done. I couldn’t go through something like that again… hoping… wishing. Only to have those dreams crushed under a glass whiskey bottle.