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LENGTH: Long Category Novel
SENSUALITY: Spicy/Carnal

Cover art (c) Eliza Black 2006
ISBN 1-58608-957-9
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Investigating the bizzare disappearance of children, Samura Priestly stumbles upon a truth that will rock the world ... or destroy it. The strange dreams that have plagued her all her life are a part of the key, and not truly dreams at all. For she has been 'visited' many times in the past, taken, studied, and watched over by the creators, the Annunaki, and more specifically Thian of the tribe of the Enlils.

But Samura's 'dream lover' is her enemy, an enemy of all the Adamu, and he will not allow his fascination with Samura to sway him from his cause. Believing that the violent nature of the Adamu will ultimately bring danger to the galaxy, the Enlils want to destroy the inhabitants of Earth.

Rating: Contains violence, adult language, and graphic sex.

SONG OF THE ANNUNAKI

By

Lorraine Kennedy

© copyright September 2006, Lorraine Kennedy

Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright September 2006

ISBN 1-58608-957-9

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

CHAPTER ONE

Pulling the blankets up around her neck, Samura stared wide-eyed at the mist seeping from the cracks of the closed bedroom door, thick, twisting, swirling mist that pulsated and breathed as if it were alive. Crawling across the hardwood floor, the mist radiated a greenish luminous light that cast the small room into a surreal nightmare world.

The mist whirled and danced, forming the image of otherworldly fingers that reached from the floor to twist around her ankles and wrists.

She could not move. She could not so much as squeak in protest. The invasive mist had robbed her of her voice, paralyzing her limbs until she was no more than an infant at the mercy of the unknown.

Behind the door, a bright light invaded the smallest opening with the power of a thousand suns, a brilliance that tore through her eyes, sending tendrils of excruciating pain into her brain.

Samura could feel her body lift from the mattress to hang suspended in midair. Long, shimmering strands of dark hair hung from her head, coming to rest on the pillow below her.

The temperature in the room dropped, covering her with a chill that pervaded the warmth of her white cotton nightgown to send shivers through her body. Her breaths were shallow, allowing only the smallest wisps of warmth to escape into the chilled room, delivering puffs of fog from her lips.

Slowly her body began to move toward the door. Her terror was absolute, its grasp tightening around her throat until it was burrowing down into her stomach. The sickening taste of bile reached up from her gut, consuming her. Only with sheer willpower was she able to force the feeling away.

The little white door that had offered so much protection a short while ago was gone, replaced with a cavernous hole. What lay behind that distorted doorway was the unknown. What lay outside that door existed beyond the sight of many, visible to only the few.

With liquid smooth motion, her body was lifted upright until she was in a standing position.

Samura’s soul screamed in protest as she inched closer and closer to that void of oblivion beyond the doorway. Her heart knew that to go through that opening would be to look upon the truth … a truth that she was not prepared to see … a reality that could destroy humankind.

A chorus of soft whispers drifted into her head, soothing her like an eerie lullaby.

“Go beyond the door,” the singsong voices urged. “See all that was, and will ever be. See the truth.”

She had no control. She was gliding through the door. A blast of air hit her, a billion molecules of realities rushed past her and into the world she had always known.

Surrounding her was infinity. She looked upon countless galaxies that stretched into a universe with no visible beginning or end.

Walking upon the stars was the most unusual man, appearing so large as to dwarf the planets beneath his feet. Long flaxen hair billowed behind him, lighting the dark sky with white-hot radiance. His handsome, breathtaking features were soft perfection, framing gray eyes that lit up like moons in the night heavens.

His lips never moved but his powerful voice echoed through the core of her being.

“Search not for answers. The truth will only illuminate your bondage. The nature of your reality is naught but part of your dream world.”

He stood near her now, no longer as massive as the universe but as a god in a man’s body. The heat he radiated reached out to cover her like a warm blanket. His gaze pulled at her essence, laying bare her entire being.

She felt naked beneath the onslaught of those luminous gray eyes. He opened his mouth but what came from his lips were not words, but a haunting melody so ancient that it rippled through her life force with a vibrating electrical current. Like the song of the whale it went out in all directions, to all points of the universe … lingering long after the sound had gone.

Her vision was blurred, but the sensations of the waking world had wiggled into her dream. The rough asphalt beneath her bare feet painfully stripped away the fog.

Blinking rapidly, Samura first saw the sickly yellowish glow of the streetlight. Turning slowly, she recognized the deserted road in front of her house. The world slept, oblivious to the woman who stood in the middle of the street, wearing nothing but a nightgown.

The distant hoot of an owl spurred her into action and she willed her legs to move. The cool grass was soothing to her feet after walking across the sharp surface of the road.

She tried her door, and to her surprise, found that it was still locked.

Samura wondered how she had walked out of the house while she slept if the door was still locked. She reached into the bush that sat next to her porch. Under cover of the greenery was a tin box that contained her spare key.

Once safely inside, Samura shut the door and leaned heavily on it, sighing with relief. She had always been plagued with bizarre dreams, but nothing like she had experienced tonight. As far as she knew, she had never walked in her sleep until now.

Looking down at the shining metal of the key, she concluded that she must have locked the door behind her when she’d left the house, sleepwalking.

Without turning on any lights, Samura walked down the hall to her bedroom. Curiously, that door was still closed as well. Turning the handle, she threw the door open. All was as it had been when she’d gone to sleep, except that her blankets lay in a piled heap next to her bed. The red digital display on her bedside clock told her it was 3:20 in the morning.

* * * *

Samura watched the empty seat of a child’s swing, swaying back and forth in the hot evening breeze. The fading light lent an eerie overtone to the already ominous atmosphere. Though empty now, less than an hour ago, four-year-old Tilley Andrews had been the swing’s last occupant.

Looking back at her quickly scrawled notes, she wondered again how the scene described by the child’s mother could have taken place. Realistically, it would have been nearly impossible for the events to unfold the way Mrs. Andrews had explained.

Mrs. Andrews had been sitting on a blanket with her younger child, only fifteen feet from the swing. She claimed to have only looked away for a few seconds. Long enough to give her fussing younger child a cookie, and when she looked back, Tilley was gone. The time span could have been no more than ten seconds. Ten seconds that would now stretch into eternity.

The child’s mother had heard nothing, not a scream, the sound of a struggle … nothing.

How could that be?

She had been sitting so close to where the child had been playing that she would have heard someone approach, but she claimed she had heard nothing. St. Augustine Park comprised a fairly open area. There was almost no chance that someone could have gotten away without being seen by at least the child’s mother.

Consequently, Tilley’s mother was under a cloud of suspicion, though Mrs. Andrews had been so distraught that she had had to be taken to the hospital and sedated.

Her story just did not add up.

Samura’s whirlwind of thought was interrupted when her partner gently laid his hand on her arm.

“Sam, there’s been a similar occurrence about three blocks from here. It apparently happened within moments of this one. John and Mack are on that one.”

Samura arched one perfectly shaped brow. “How is the case similar?”

“It was a four-year-old boy named Charlie. According to the mother he disappeared while taking a bath.” Mike Gibson’s voice made it obvious that he was still trying to piece it all together.

Samura had always been good at masking her emotions. None of the hurt and fear she was feeling for these missing children could be detected in her blue eyes. At times, her eyes were like pools of florescent color and at others, they could have been likened to ice. At this moment, she stared back at her partner with eyes so unreadable it would appear she possessed no soul.

“Is there more to it?” She flipped the notebook shut.

Mike ran his meaty fingers through his graying brown hair. “The child was in the tub. His mother left the bathroom and walked down the hall to get a towel from the linen closet, and when she returned, the boy was gone. There wasn’t even a drop of water on the bathroom floor to suggest that he had ever gotten out. When the responding officers arrived there was still water in the tub along with the child’s toys.”

“What do you think?”

“The parents are part of some kind of cult, and for some reason they need their children to disappear in the eyes of the world.”

Samura smiled coldly. “That’s something to think about, but my instincts tell me the parents have nothing to do with the disappearance of their children.”

“Oh, come on, Sam, these cases reek of inside jobs. There are no fingerprints, nothing.” Mike shook his head.

Disappearances, which on one hand were completely unexplainable unless you looked to the most obvious culprits. For Mike, the obvious villains here were the parents, or at least the mother. In each instance, Sam had insisted that they look beyond the obvious.

“There’s nothing more we can do right now. Why don’t we let forensics do their job and get out of here? Maybe go get a bite to eat.”

Samura was tall for a woman and barely had to lift her head to look the six-foot Mike in the eyes. “That’s okay, Gibson. You go ahead. I’d just as soon stick around here for awhile.”

Mike shrugged his shoulders, “Suit yourself. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Samura watched Mike Gibson drive away. Outwardly, she was as calm and collected as at any point in her life, but on the inside, she was simmering with anger. Gibson was an okay person, but in her opinion, his arrogance and laziness interfered with his job.

Dismissing Gibson from her mind, Samura once again focused on the task at hand. The search teams had fanned out from the playground, looking for anything out of the ordinary that might give them a clue as to what had happened to the child. The last of the forensic team was now packing up to leave. Samura knew that they would probably not find any viable evidence, since they hadn’t in the last five cases.

One by one, the cars pulled away until all was still and quiet but the rush of the wind. Reluctantly, Samura forced herself to remove her black leather glove and grasp the chain at approximately the same place the child would have held it. At first, there was the familiar tingling sensation and then the flash of abrupt and sheer terror--a horror so pure as to consume one’s sanity--and then nothing. It was as if the child’s soul had ceased to exist.

“Officer Priestly!”

Samura swung around with a startled cry. The stranger stood only a few feet away, the details of his appearance hidden in deep shadows.

She was usually so in tune with her surroundings that rarely was anyone able to sneak up on her, and never had it happened while she was on duty.

Cautiously, Samura unsnapped her pistol, letting her hand rest on the handle. Fear gnawed at her throat until it was so dry and parched that her words came out more like little croaks. “What can I do for you?”

“I know where the children are.”

Stunned, Samura tried to speak but could find no words. As she always did in times of crisis, she reached into the inner depths of her being and drew on the shinning white energy that resided deep within her. Her shields slammed down and instantaneously her professionalism returned. “Go on,” she told the stranger in a low, even voice.

“I can tell you no more than that right now.”

“Are you involved in this?”

“No,” the man in the shadows answered without hesitation.

“If you know something that you are refusing to disclose then you will be an accessory to a very serious crime. You will be leaving me no choice but to place you under arrest.” Samura’s voice never swayed or altered from a level, professional tone.

“Samura, you cannot arrest me.” The stranger was obviously amused by her threat.

Samura paused. Who was this guy? A Fed who was purposely obstructing justice? “How do you know my name?” The hard edge to her voice was the only hint of her anger.

“We know a great deal about you, Samura. We know the date and time you were born, right down to the very second. We know your favorite color, what your favorite toy was as a child, and even who gave you your first kiss.”

“You’re lying.”

“How very disappointing. You are showing the very human trait of losing control. It would seem that you have much work ahead of you yet.”

Samura drew her pistol with a swift, graceful movement. “You are under arrest! Put your hands up where I can see them.” Keeping the gun leveled at the darkened image in the shadows, she used her other hand to free her flashlight. Switching it on, she directed the beam in the direction of the dark figure.

He wore a black, hooded cloak that effectively hid his face. Lifting his head, he stared directly at her with eyes of blue ice that strangely reflected the light. Making no attempt to comply with her order, he stood staring at her, a smile playing on his lips.

“I’ve already told you, Samura, you have no authority to arrest me.”

“Sir, I will tell you one more time to put your hands where I can see them.”

“Please put down your weapon and I will let you in on a couple things before I depart.”

Samura made no move to lower her weapon.

“Your time is very near, Samura. This has always been your destiny.”

Samura shook her head, confused by the man’s words. “Sir, are you on any kind of medication, legal or otherwise?”

“I am going to leave you with some facts.” He stepped closer and Samura tensed. “Your father is not the man you have always thought him to be. Ask your mother … ask her about the lights in the sky.”

“You’re out of your mind.” Samura fought to maintain control of her quaking emotions.

“Oh, come on, Samura, you know deep down that you have always been different, don’t you? You have always felt apart from the others.”

She flinched at this truth. Her vision filled with memories, images of birthday parties that she could not bring herself to attend, sitting in the corner of the schoolyard and having nothing to say to the children who talked to her, their presence making her feel self-conscious about herself.

“If you are to have any chance of finding these children, you will have to accept who you are.”

“I repeat, sir, you are under arrest. Put your hands above your head where I can see them.” Samura knew she should radio for help, but she would have to drop the flashlight in order to grab the radio.

In that instant, as she was contemplating her situation, there was a blinding white flash so bright that her vision consisted of nothing more than black dots for several seconds. By the time her sight returned, the man had gone.

Disgusted with herself, she radioed in giving the dispatcher the man’s description and requested backup. Samura was convinced that she’d just been taken in by some cheap magician’s trick.