Another extract from Deathhawk’s Betrayal. For those who don’t know, Deathhawk’s Betrayal is currently under consideration by a publisher as I had a request for a partial at the Speculative Fiction Festival in Sydney two weeks ago.

Astarl picked her way down the beach in the pre-dawn glow. The first shaft of sunlight had not yet broken the horizon, leaving the soft susurration of waves in darkness and the sand of the beach a pale smudge beneath her feet. The sky to the east glowed with the coming sunrise.
The ghost, if that was what it was, she left where she had woken. It had been so useless to scream, though she didn’t know what else she might have done. You couldn’t fight a ghost, or a disembodied voice, or your own insanity, whichever foe it was she faced.
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