Day of the Serpent (Ouroboros Series) (Volume 3)

I am Ouroboros. See my beauty. Look deep into my eyes. Become one with me. Tourists eagerly flock to the quaint bed and breakfasts lining the shores of Invercraig, Scotland, reveling in its natural splendor. Yet, unbeknownst to them, a monster quietly lurks in the darkened waters of nearby Loch Ness hunting mercilessly for its next prey, while an ancient cult works tirelessly to rip the world apart at the seams. Meanwhile, as teams of brutish news reporters seek out the iconic Loch Ness monster, a ghostly pair of serpentine eyes begins to mysteriously appear, controlling everyone’s thoughts and dreams. With cult expert Marcus Valentine incapacitated, Brad Steiger continues the relentless journey to free his daughter from the clutches of the nefarious cult, to which she has long served as a vital key. But Brad’s connection to his daughter has become more faint and distant, and the murderous Clay and Cleo remain hell-bent on their quest for world domination. As the mists over Loch Ness thicken and the beginning of the end nears, no one can withstand the pull of the Great Old One, summoning the weak to come closer ... and closer ... And become one with the Ouroboros.

From the Inside Flap

Fergus Mackay was fishing. His job as caretaker and general servant at the Lodge was not especially onerous. As he had often remarked to drinking buddies, Mister Crowley may be a strange man, and an Englishman at that, but he was a fair employer. What's more, the Master employed a fine, buxom widow as his housekeeper. The good lady, Jean Brash, was bound to give way to Fergus's advances at some point. The only problem was the salmon. Or rather, the lack of them. Loch Ness was famous for its salmon, and Fergus enjoyed fishing in his spare time. This happened to be the ideal fishing season, so there ought to be plenty of gullible young salmon thronging the loch's waters. The trouble was that, try as he might, Fergus had landed nothing for days. When he had commented on this in the pub, others had said the same. "They're not biting," muttered the old man. Fergus looked up and down the long, narrow expanse of Loch Ness. A small pleasure steamer was just visible, far to the north, but otherwise nothing broke the surface. So why do I get the feeling I'm being watched? He turned to look around through three hundred and sixty degrees, taking in the whole sweep of the loch and its shores. As far as he could see, he was the only living thing in sight. Normally, one might expect to see ducks or geese on the water, or deer drinking at the waterline. But now there was nothing. Almost as if, he thought, the wildlife are in hiding. As if there's something near that they're avoiding. Something evil.

About the Author

David Longhorn was born in North East England long before the internet, but fortunately they had plenty of books in those days! He enjoyed reading all sorts of fact and fiction in childhood and also became a huge fan of old horror movies and the BBC's Ghost Stories for Christmas on television, despite losing a lot of sleep as a result. He went on to get a degree in English Studies, which somehow led him to a career in local government, which in turn took him into a recording studio where he provided voice-overs, read news, and did a lot of other audio stuff. It's been that kind of life, really - a bit random but quite interesting. All the while he was reading and writing supernatural fiction, influenced by both the classic tales of writers like Ambrose Bierce, M.R. James, and Edgar Allan Poe, but also by modern masters such as Stephen King. He hopes to write a lot more about the world of the dead and undead, assuming they let him...

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