![]() ![]() Then I could attach those lovely letters-Ph.D.-at the end of my name. I needed to find a cryptid-translation: unknown animal-prove its existence, write a thesis. Malone? The voice was male, a bit shaky, old or perhaps ill. Insomnia and a very empty checking account made me answer it despite the hour.ĭr. I was having very little luck with my quest until the night the phone rang at 3:00 a.m. Though I’ve never believed in magic, my husband did, and the only thing I’ve ever believed in was him. So I follow every legend, every folk tale, every scrap of information, trying to uncover something mythical and prove it real. Foolish, but when a woman loves a man the way that I loved Simon, she does foolish things, especially when he’s dying in her arms. Most cryptozoologists attempt to find undiscovered species or evolutionary wonders-real animals, nothing paranormal about them-but not me. Or at least that’s my theory, and I’m sticking to it They don’t want to be found, and they’re a lot better at hiding than anyone on earth is at seeking. ![]() There’s a reason no one’s captured a Bigfoot. Instead, I trace rumors of mythical animals and try to prove they exist. If I’d followed my training, I’d be holed up in a zoo or worse, studying giraffes and pygmy goats. ![]() I’m a zoologist by trade, a cryptozoologist by choice. Alife spent fulfilling a vow to a dead man is really no life at all, but I’d loved Simon Malone, and I’d promised. ![]()
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