Monster Shark by Stephen D. Sullivan

Author:Stephen D. Sullivan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, fantasy, magic, shark, ocean adventure, megalodon, sea adventure, dinosaur world, sea elf, sword sorcery, umira, accursed
Publisher: Stephen D. Sullivan

FIN

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SAMPLES OF OTHER STORIES

Here are some samples of other stories by me that you may enjoy.

Don’t forget to read the “About the Story” and “About the Author” sections that follow the samples!

CRIMSON & DRAGONS

~ A Blue Kingdoms Story ~

Stephen D. Sullivan

Is there anything in the multiverse worse than waking up naked and chained to a dungeon wall? I say, Yes: dying before you get to pay back the son-of-a-bitch who put you there.

I intended to make sure that the bastard priest who put me in this position got what he deserved, and in this lifetime, not some future one. Of course, being naked and chained to a dungeon wall, I wasn’t currently in a position to do much about it.

Acting as pin-up girl in some sadist’s twisted fantasy isn’t something I’ve experienced a lot in my many lifetimes, mostly because “death before dishonor” has always been my mantra. Of course, that kind of hard-ass credo is easier for me to follow than it would be for most, death not being a permanent set-back in my case. In situations like this, my peculiar brand of immortality is more of a blessing than a curse. Trouble is, I wasn’t the only one in this jam.

Other women—little more than girls, really—occupied the dungeon with me. We were chained in a line against a damp stone wall, each of us far enough apart from the rest that we couldn’t possibly touch or help each other in any way. I guessed from their pallid skin and soft bodies that the others weren’t going to be much help in getting us out of this predicament.

I hadn’t seen my own body in a mirror since I revived in this new incarnation, but I knew what I’d find; the “gift” from the gods that unhinged me in time also allows me to look more or less the same every time I’m reborn: trim and muscular, pale blue eyes, red hair—shoulder-length in this incarnation—and busty. Somehow, I always end up with big boobs; I figure the gods must like them. And so, judging from the endowment of my cell mates, do pervert clerics.

I assumed it was the priest who’d put me here, as the last thing I remembered before waking up in chains was accepting a drink from him. I really must learn not to accept wine from strange men, even when they drink from the same skin first. Either he had some magic that protected him, or he’d built up an immunity to whatever drug he slipped into the drink. I wondered if my fellow captives—there were five of us, counting me—had fallen prey to a similar fate.

I couldn’t see what I had in common with the other girls, aside from chest size. All had different skin and hair colors; three were human, one an elf. All four looked exhausted and terrified, their hair ragged, their eyes puffy from crying. They slumped against the wall, their chains hanging limply. I was at one end of the line, a girl with short, mousy-brown hair at the other.

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