Believe me, you'll want more after you finish reading Between Feathers and Fins. And I can tell you where to find it. Of the Night is an amazing collection of Erin's supernatural horror that will leave you spiralling in wonder and fear. You can download the book to your Kindle from Amazon.co.uk or Amazon.com
Back to my words of thanks. Erin has constantly encouraged, supported and promoted me on my writing journey so far and we have shared thoughts and emotions across the ocean. Erin, you are an inspiration. Thank you.
Read her words...
BETWEEN FEATHERS AND FINS
I search the shores, pretending I'm looking for seashells. Tiny crab bugs spring from the wet sand beneath my step. I imagine I am a giant plodding through their town, smashing their labors, creating havoc. Are they screaming and I just can't hear them? They dive at me, sharp as pointed sticks against the tender flesh of my ankle. I believe they are not fleeing in blind terror, but assailing their monster. I am not fazed by this thought. My grief vindicates the horror, for I battle my own monster, and it has calloused my heart.
The cat killed a bird this morning. She pounced into a savage dance of murder and pierced her sharp teeth into the warm pulse of life. I yelled at her and chased her off. She sulked around the trunk of a pine, lingering to finish the job. I picked up the bird. White feathers swirled in a mess. The tail tapped at my wrist. The body wriggled in my palm, and its glassy, red eyes were frozen by the probabilities of death. I am the monster now. It knows not fur from skin.
The bird stills. My hand is stained cherry. I climb over the dunes into the wild sage and bury it beneath a handful of sand. At the water's edge, the cold froth of gray-green waves distend a mirrored sky at my feet. A playful tease. She wants me back, wants us all back. I deny it no further and step into the bitter cool of her infinite deep, up to the curve of my breasts. She is quick to take me back. My skin molts into scales, my legs no more, as a fish's tail conquers the form of my feet. The current seizes me, and I swallow the icy salt into my lungs as they too transform back into gills. The song of the sea comes to me again, a lulling, violin melody. But I am listening for him, beneath the boom of tide and gurgle of bubbles in her throat. I am keen to the harmonics of his voice.
I roll in the waves, my fin scraping rock and sand. The gravity of her breath pulls me back from the shore, but another force is greater, and I am unable to find the deep. My body is lifted, as if thrust ashore by a rock giant's hand. Resting on the sand, I shed her waters like tears, his tears. Legs have found my body again. The crab bugs continue their assault, and I surrender to their calloused hearts. In the dunes of wild sage, I see my love. He is no longer smiling - he has battled his own monster.
White feathers somersault and swirl across my panoramic view of the beach. I stretch my fingers up and catch one. My legs are no more. I know not feathers from fins.
_________ The End _________
You can learn more about her dark fiction at www.erincolewrites.com or www.erincolelive.blogspot.com.