fuonlyknew

Good guys. Bad Guys. The Bermuda triangle.

What do they all have in common?

Check out A Storm Of Secrets to find out.

And don’t forget to enter the giveaway!

A Storm Of Secrets

The Storm Surge Trilogy #1

by Shona Perrett

Synopsis

Special Agent Rios wakes up in an abandoned aeroplane. He finds himself on an unfamiliar island in the Bermuda Triangle, suffering from what appears to be amnesia. He must search for clues about his identity, as well as decipher the secrets of the island itself.

But will the truth be too terrifying to live with? Strangers hell-bent on murder, stranded young pilots, and signs of organized weapons trade. These things only touch the surface. What lurks in the skies above is far more sinister.

There is a strange energy high above the clouds, stewing deep within the Bermuda waters. And it grows restless. A storm is coming. A storm like no other, seeking to invade their minds. With the help of his newly acquainted team of special ops pilots, Rios must find a way to stop the storm before it destroys them…from the inside out.

Enjoy this glimpse inside A Storm Of Secrets

The heat sank in like a deprived leech, eagerly awaiting its feast of blood. If this place was one or the other, it felt a lot like hell. Was he dead? Hard to know. He felt aloof, broken. But he always imagined death as quieter, like that gentle feeling you get before drifting off into a dream. This was more like a nightmare. Not frightening enough to rouse him from slumber, but not peaceful enough to let him rest.

The ticking of a clock sounded, dully at first, then rose in volume. It reminded him of a time gone by, a distant memory of people marching in single file. The sound rose, beckoning him. Ancient, mysterious. Like war drums, summoning him to consciousness.

Was this finally death? No. It couldn’t be. This was too loud a chant for even death. It was filled with passion, violence. No, this was life. But whose? The rhythm pulsed through the chasms of his being until all he could feel was its power, raw and unrelenting.

The climax of the drums rose to a deafening volume, in perfect tempo with the beating of his flurried heart. And then in one final rise it all went quiet. A nice, peaceful sort of quiet. He felt himself breathing in deeply as he opened his eyes to a dreary sky, sunlight peeking through the clouds like pinholes. He was alive. But where was he? And who was he? He remembered his name. Rios.

He glanced down at his side, noticing an open gash through his ripped shirt, blood oozing from the flesh. He was lying on his back. Rios patted at his torso, finding a small flask of whiskey in his jacket pocket. He sat up, pulled the flask out and unscrewed the cap, pouring a little over his wound. Groaning in pain, he drank the last quarter, hoping it would offer some relief. He took off his jacket and then his T-shirt and tied it in a knot around his waist to stop the blood flow.

Rios was in the aisle of a small aeroplane. Some of the chairs were strewn about, ripped from their bolts. Their blue cushions torn apart in places, drooping over the sides of the white and silver framing. Part of the roof had been torn off. The door exit sign to his left was hanging half off its hinges, still flickering, and there was an electrical buzz from the front of the plane.

Rios tried to call out for help, but all he could manage was a mumble. He took a moment, then propped himself up against the chair next to him. Rios scanned the aisles for people, but saw only empty chairs, the middle row stained in what appeared to be thick, sticky blood. Some of the overhead luggage compartments were open, suitcases and smaller bags scattered around the floor of the plane.

Puzzled, Rios peered cautiously out the windows. No one in sight. Only a clearing, followed by palm trees for what looked like miles on either side. He put his black jacket on unbuttoned and clambered down out of the wreckage, into the boggy swamp, a little over knee height. Where was he? Where was he headed before the crash? Frustrated, he pushed against his head, hoping the answers would pop out.

“Think damn it” he muttered to himself. “Where are you?”

Rios looked down, noticing a shiny grey briefcase in the water. Something in the back of his mind recalled it as important.

The water stirred as he picked up the metal case. It reflected clearly for a second as the muddy water parted, just long enough for him to notice that a figure had emerged from the trees behind him. His instincts kicked in.

Rios spun around as quickly as he took his next breath, holding a three inch knife to the man’s throat.

“Who are you!?”

Author Shona Parrett

Shona Perrett is a first time author, blogger and closet poet. Her novel A Storm of Secrets is due to release November 2015. Shona studied applied writing in her home town of Whangarei, and is now looking to branch out into creative business enterprising.

Passionate about finding beauty in the dirt, she aims to write stories of redemption. Shona believes that narratives exist to teach us how to love one another. That every day, we all communicate through the medium of story, seeking out ways to connect with the world around us.

She believes they are one of the most ancient forms of creative expression and vulnerability, and are therefore a fundamental part of what it means to be human.

You can visit her at www.shonaperrett.com or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/shona.perrett.

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