Lunar
Rebirth
SAMANTHA CROSS
Copyright © 2020 Samantha Cross
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 9798635723678
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the work of the author’s imagination.
Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is coincidental.
For my Loki.
My heart just doesn’t beat the same without you.
READ MORE BY SAMANTHA CROSS
LUNAR RAMPAGE TRILOGY
Lunar Rampage (2018)
Lunar City (2018)
Lunar Rebirth (2020)
Acknowledgements
I’m about to be pretty damn repetitive with these thank yous, but over the course of this trilogy I find there have been a few constants. Those have been my parents, my grandma, and my brother, Erick.
To my parents: Thank you for always being supportive, for always giving me time to pursue my writing career without pressuring me to do something I never wanted to do, and never making me feel less than for not becoming an overnight success.
To my grandma: Thank you for showing excitement and passion, for buying copies of my books and selling them to total strangers that became obsessed with my stories. And thank you for turning your bingo buddies into readers. I never imagined this would be my demographic, but hey, not gonna complain about that!
To Erick: Quite possibly the most important person to this entire series. You read through each and every chapter as I wrote it, sat through disgusting typos and grammatical errors, and still found the heart of the story. Whenever I lacked motivation you talked me up, gave me ideas, helped me brainstorm. Most of these things you did without even noticing. All I had to do was think out loud with you, and I’d find a new plot detail to be pumped for. I lost track of the amount of things you mentioned in passing that I thought, well, shoot, let me see if I can do this. And it worked. Every single time. Thank you for always reading, always being there, and acting like you give a shit. Not a lot of people do.
Is it okay to write shit in your acknowledgments? We’re doing it!
Chapter One
Cooking and basting a turkey wasn't exactly ideal, but it was Thanksgiving, and when you're in charge of dinner, you get stuck doing tasks you swore up and down you never would. My right hand grasped for the oven handle, shaking like something supernatural possessed it, and tugged open the door for the turkey inside. I was blasted in the face by steam and heat, and almost choked at the aroma of cooking meat. Cooking flesh is a more accurate description.
I couldn't believe they forced the vegetarian to prepare the turkey. They, being Max and Priscilla, who were running fifteen minutes late.
This would be the first time Priscilla was going to see my new apartment and how I decked the place out. I finally found a place I felt good about settling into, based on the outskirts of town, yet far away from any wildlife and woodlands. I’d grown beyond tired of trees, moons, bugs, and any sort of howling, wailing, or even barking and I needed to sleep soundly at night. I needed my sanity back.
Three heavy knocks thudded at the door. Finally. I hastily took hold of the turkey pan and dragged it out of the oven, setting it down on the stove burners and yanking back the top. More steam hit my face, and I coughed. "Oh God, I'm gonna hurl," I groaned, and waved away the cloud from my face. The knock grew stronger, more insistent this time. "Just a minute!"
I switched off the boiling potatoes, checked real quick to make sure the turkey was steaming and golden brown, and then flipped back my hair to spruce up. I flattened out any wrinkles in my Thanksgiving-themed skirt before answering the door. "Happy Thanksgiving!" I exclaimed as I tore open the door and spread my arms out wide.
Priscilla leaned against the door frame, sporting a black leather jacket and carrying a cheap-looking bottle of red wine. She stood up straight when she saw me and then scrunched her nose. "Is something burning?"
"No." I glimpsed over my shoulder to make sure anyway.
"Then what's that smell?"
"My cooking."
"Makes sense." Priscilla pushed through the door, her black hair slightly damp from the frigid weather outside. She didn't even bother to kick her boots off before sauntering into the kitchen.
I poked my head out into the apartment building hallway, expecting to see Max, but no one was there. "Uh, what happened to Max? I thought you two were supposed to be meeting up and coming over together. You didn't kill him and then stash the body somewhere, did you?"
"He's probably looking for a parking spot," she explained to me as she foraged through the kitchen cupboards for a cup to pour her wine into. "I took the only one by the entrance." Once she found a glass, she hopped onto the counter and started drinking. "Nice skirt, by the way."
Any other human being and I'd take it as a compliment, but this was Priscilla and I knew better. No way was she sincere about my skirt when it was designed to look like a turkey. I was just glad she got the dig out of the way.
A loud bang, like someone had fired a shotgun, rang out. I turned and saw it was the front door bursting open, with Max sort
