The stake entered his anus and protruded through his gaping mouth, his death mask frozen in a look of horror. He shuffled up to the stake and examined the impaled, naked, dead man. Holy Mary! spluttered Barn, making the sign of the cross. The small dog continued to bark loudly and watched the curious man approach the strange shaft. He hesitated for a moment, his ancient eyes focusing on the dark form occupying the stake. He had never before noticed the erect wooden stake that protruded from the soft sand.īarney Silcott scrambled down the slippery steps, the cold waves lapping at his ankles. Peering out into the autumn morning, the man screwed his eyes up. The yelping dog perched on the seawall, faced the oncoming tide, and awaited the arrival of its master. The old man scurried after his barking Jack Russell and felt the cold sea spray against his craggy, unshaven face. No parts of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronically or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage or retrieval system without permission from the author, except for the quotations in a review. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.Īll rights reserved. The characters and events in this book are fictitious.
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