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.
