Bad Moon Rising

by Shannon Hollinger

About the Author: With degrees in Crime Scene Technology and Physical Anthropology, Shannon Hollinger hasn't just seen the dark side of humanity—she's been elbow deep inside of it! Most days, writing smells better. To see where you can find more of her work, check out www.ShannonHollinger.com.

Excerpt

Officer Penelope Holden stares out the window, peering out at a night lit by an eerie glow. A pearlescent frost ring encircles the fully swollen moon. She bites her lip, a deep crease forming between her eyebrows. Someone’s going to die tonight. The thought comes unbidden, is certainly unwelcomed, but is felt so strongly in her gut that it can’t be denied. The hairs rise on her arms and a ghostly tickle traces down her neck.

Letting the curtain fall, she shovels the rest of her canned spaghetti into her mouth and balances the bowl on top of the pile of towering dishes in the sink. She closes her study materials and moves them to the only place in her cluttered bungalow where they won’t get ruined or lost, the mantle over the fireplace. Wiping a hand across her chest, she dries the little orange sauce flecks on her T-shirt before pulling on her khaki uniform top. Her utility belt scrapes across the table as she pulls it closer. Wrapping the belt around herself, she buckles it, the weight settling into the deep groove that seems to never fade from the soft flesh of her hips.

She shoves her arms into the puffy sleeves of her department issued bomber jacket, pulls the zipper up under her chin, and puts her ear mufflered hat on before stepping out into the frigid night air. Her eyes widen from the initial shock of the cold, watering as she locks the door. She passes the old, neglected Nissan she’s had since high school, and unlocks her patrol car.

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