Chosen Prey
Chapter One
1.
James Qatar dropped his feet over the edge of the bed and rubbed the back of his neck, a momentary veil of depression
falling upon him. He was sitting naked on the rumpled sheets, the smell of sex lingering like a rude perfume. He could
hear Ellen Barstad in the kitchen. She'd turned on the radio she kept by the sink, and "Cinnamon Girl" bubbled through
the small rooms. Dishes tinkled against cups, fingernail scratches through the melody of the song.
"Cinnamon Girl" wasn't right for this day, for this time, for what was about to happen. If he were to have music, he
thought, maybe Shostakovich, a few measures from the Lyric Waltz in Jazz Suite Number 2. Something sweet, yet pensive,
with a taste of tragedy; Qatar was an intellectual, and he knew his music.
He stood up, wobbled into ... read full excerpt from Chosen Prey ebook
