Titles by Chris Tullbane
The Murder of Crows
SEE THESE BONES
RED RIGHT HAND *
ONE TIN SOLDIER *
STORIES FROM A POST-BREAK WORLD *
The Many Travails of John Smith
INVESTIGATION, MEDIATION, VINDICATION *
BLOOD IS THICKER THAN LOTS OF STUFF *
GHOST OF A CHANCE *
THE ITALIAN SCREWJOB *
A DEAD MAN'S FAVOR *
GODSWAR *
JOHN SMITH DOESN'T WORK HERE ANYMORE *
* Forthcoming
See These Bones
Chris Tullbane
First published by Ghost Falls Press 2019
Copyright © 2019 by Chris Tullbane
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
Publisher's Cataloging-in-Publication Data
provided by Five Rainbows Cataloging Services
Names: Tullbane, Chris, author.
Title: See these bones / Chris Tullbane.
Description: Henderson, NV : Ghost Falls Press, 2019. | Series: Murder of crows, bk. 1.
Identifiers: ISBN 978-1-7334824-1-7 (paperback) | ISBN 978-1-7334824-0-0 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Superheroes--Fiction. | Heroes--Fiction. | Self-actualization (Psychology)--Fiction. | Fathers and sons--Fiction. | Bildungsromans. | Fantasy fiction. | Science fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / Superheroes. | FICTION / Coming of Age. | FICTION / Fantasy / General. | FICTION / Science Fiction / General. | GSAFD: Fantasy fiction. | Science fiction. | Bildungsromans.
Classification: LCC PS3620.U45 S44 2019 (print) | LCC PS3620.U45 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6--dc23.
Book Cover Design by ebooklaunch.com
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents portrayed in it are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
First edition
For Nami,
the reason for everything
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing is a solitary process, but I’ve found that everything after the initial draft is a hell of a lot easier when you have amazing people to rely on. I'd like to thank the following for their many contributions:
Nami, who reads everything I write, no matter how terrible. She is my wife, editor, agent, best friend, and narrative compass, all rolled into one.
Johanna, whose friendship keeps me going even when the words run dry. This book's not a romance, I swear!
Jamie, who has been nudging me to get this book published since the first draft arrived in his inbox and who is both the best and the only brother I’ve ever had.
Shawn and Keith, my partners-in-crime during the eight month sabbatical that kick-started my writing career, who are quick to remind me that I should already be done with the sequel.
And last but not least, my parents, who didn’t blink when I opted to pursue a degree in writing, (even if they did breathe a sigh of relief when I instead found a career in software development).
Thank you all.
Table of Contents
Titles by Chris Tullbane
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Interlude
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Interlude
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Epilogue
About the Author
CHAPTER 1
My mom was murdered when I was five.
The good news is they caught her killer. The bad news? It was my dad. Any shrink will tell you that’s the sort of thing that can fuck a kid up.
By the time my sixth birthday rolled around, both parents were in the ground; Mom in a quiet cemetery on the other side of town and Dad in the considerably less quiet prison the Free States built for people like him.
And people like me, I guess.
Turns out dark hair and grey eyes aren’t the only things that asshole and I have in common.
My mom was murdered when I was five. I didn’t see her again until I turned nine, but ever since then, she’s made a habit of following me around. Losing your virginity to the girl who works the slushy counter down the block is stressful enough without the ghost of your dead mother bearing witness.
Now, there was a time when even talking about ghosts earned someone a padded cell and a lifetime supply of medication. But that was before things went bad. Before Dr. Nowhere broke the world. These days, stories like mine divide neatly into two camps; the people who see the dead because they’re batshit crazy and the people who are batshit crazy because they see the dead.
That second group? We call them Crows and they don’t just see the dead. You’ve heard the stories. Lord Bone and his skeletal army.
