I’ve got a massive backlist out there, but I’m focusing mostly on my indie releases now, which a lot of my readers haven’t heard of yet. So we’re going to be putting up excerpts of the indie work I’ve done—both full length and short collections, each Wednesday, to encourage you to give my new work a try.
Today’s excerpt comes from Siren’s Song.
Book Page to find buy links: https://galenorn.com/book/siren-song/
THE PARKING LOT of Straitwater Hospital was relatively empty and I found a spot near the building. I pocketed my keys and hurried over to the ER. As I entered the waiting room, I saw that Max had beat me there. The tall, brawny man jumped out of his chair and I threw my arms around him, hugging him tightly. He was shaking. His late wife had died in a car crash and he had never fully forgiven himself.
“How is she?” I glanced around, looking for a doctor.
An odd thing about emergency rooms that had always struck me. While frantic attempts to save lives were going on behind closed doors, in the waiting room, time seemed to stand still, the hands of the clock barely moving as minutes and hours passed by in limbo.
“I don’t know. They said the doctor would be out to talk to me in a while.” For being so tanned, Max looked extraordinarily pale.
I took him by the arm and walked him back to the banquette under the windows that overlooked the patient loading zone. We sat in silence, Max leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at the floor. I rubbed his back lightly, watching the emergency room doors, willing the doctor to come talk to us. It seemed like an eternity, but finally, the doors opened and a woman in a white coat with a stethoscope around her neck headed our way, a chart in her hand.
Max slowly stood, a stark look on his face.