Shadow Dragon

by Horton, Lance

• ISBN13: 9781462007653
• ISBN10: 1462007651
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2012-05-01
• Publisher: Author Solutions

Summary

FBI victim specialist Kyle Andrews is heading to snowy Montana to prove to himself, and others, that he can handle the duties of his dream job-to become a special agent. Assigned to a multiple homicide case on federal land in Flathead National Park along with Special Agent Lewis Edwards, Kyle arrives in Kalispell, Montana, the scene of three gruesome murders. Someone-or something-is on the loose on Shadow Mountain. It is not long before Andrews meets Carrie Daniels, a grieving reporter who is attempting to solve the mystery behind her grandparents' murder in their lakeside cabin. While Kyle helps Carrie deal with her heartache, both quickly realize that nothing is as it seems. Legends of monsters persist and begin to spread throughout the tiny town, and the bizarre and brutal murders continue. Someone is hiding a secret so toxic that they are willing to kill to protect it. In this gripping thriller, Kyle and Carrie must embark on an arduous trek into the depths of the forest to uncover the mystery behind the murders. But only time will tell if they will survive long enough to find the answers that have the potential to change their lives forever.

Excerpts

After dinner that evening, Bill sat at the kitchen table .... Whistling, he bent over his fly-tying vise, a pair of hackle pliers in his hand, as he peered through the magnifying light at the tiny damsel fly he was working on. A fly-fishing enthusiast in the truest sense of the word, he refused to purchase store-bought flies. Bill's blissful reverie was interrupted by a heavy thump from somewhere else in the house. He looked up over the top of his reading glasses, his forehead wrinkled in consternation. Fearful that Audrey might have fallen, he called out to her. "Audrey, you all right?" "Yes, dear, why?" "I thought I heard something. Did you drop something?" "No, dear, I didn't." Bill took off his glasses and laid them on the table as he stood up. He cocked his head to one side, listening for anything out of the norm. ... A wall clock over the oven ticked off the seconds. Then he heard it again, a heavy scrabbling sound on the roof above him. He listened, trying to make sure it wasn't a tree limb, but it seemed to have too much of a pattern to it, as if someone were walking across the roof and dragging something behind. Thump, scrape, thump, scrape. It seemed to be making its way toward the back of the house.