G.M. Nair has blessed us with Duckett and Dyer: The One-Hundred Percent Solution, the second in a series that features Michael Duckett and Stephanie Dyer, two private investigators who have a habit of finding trouble, no matter where they go.
This story takes off a few months after the events of the last book end. After the pair’s last hijinx-filled adventure, there were hints that something else was at play. The author does not disappoint by launching our heroes right back into the thick of things.
Nair also brings back several memorable characters, providing us with a mixture of salty and sweet. We are even regaled with a bit of backstory, interwoven with the main storyline, which hints that not all is well in the multiverse.
This story has much of the same flavour as its predecessor. The humour prevails and promises a few zigs where the reader would expect a zag. This is truly where G.M. Nair‘s imagination shines.
If you want a solid read that ventures into the realm of the random and absurd, then this novel is for you!
Just as Edith was about to strike, a shot rang out in the alley, but the round flew low and ricocheted off the sidewalk. Elizabeth stood at the mouth of the alley, her hands shaking, eyes wide. Clearly, this woman was shocked that the shot had gone off.
When Edith turned back towards Clara, Elizabeth sensed someone brush up against her. She looked up at the voluptuous woman and during this tense time? When Elizabeth’s eyes moved up, they grew in size.
“Shhhh,” Edith said. “It’s a long story and we don’t have time to explain.”
Elizabeth’s mouth hung open, her mind unable to deal with conflicting truths. Edith smiled warmly and tore the weapon from her stiff fingers. The cool chill of the grave that Elizabeth felt from that brief exchange was enough to turn her skin to gooseflesh.
“You with me?” Edith asked.
“Uhhh?” Elizabeth managed to vocalise.
How could there be two of the same person? Although, this one appeared to be about a decade older as judged by the silver streaks running through her hair. Elizabeth wondered if this one also had a pair of wings.
“Close enough,” Edith said. She then trained the weapon on her alternate self and said, “You need to head home now. Fast as you can and get that amphora!”
“Wha…” Elizabeth asked.
Edith fired one round that rang out loud and clear. She then looked over to Elizabeth. Her eyes widened and her head motions to the street to indicate the arrival of an oncoming traxi.
When Elizabeth didn’t move, Edith sighed and said, “Go! Be sure to bring it back here—and hurry.”
This time when the shots rang out, Elizabeth was already waving down the cab. Edith fired every round to the best of her abilities, adjusting the angle of the shots as they struck until one flew true.
When she expended the clip, Edith turned around and melted into the crowd before her alter-ego could spot her. They needed a diversion and now that was over and done with, it was time for Angela to step up.
Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!
There are times in a person’s life when the past, present, and future collide. Margot, by indie author Lisa De Castro, brings us a women’s fiction that focuses on that very aspect.
The book’s description sets the premise, but the author really brings this world to life. The setting of Corsica is beautifully described and provides not only a view of the island, but also delves into its culture and history.
The reader has a front-row pass into Margot’s world. Her thoughts, feelings, and past flow beautifully through the prose, and more often than not, feel eerily familiar. To me, Margot is a living, breathing entity, one I could easily relate to.
Ultimately, Margot is a quick and beautiful read that will leave an imprint on your mind. Highly recommended.
Indie author Sara Flower Kjeldsen has regaled us with a story of a femme fatale named Marie. Beautiful, intelligent, empty inside, and deadly beyond all reckoning, this is a character with whom you would not normally bond with.
The characterization is much more chilling since the story plays out in first person. We see Marie’s thoughts and lack of emotion from a formative event in her youth right up to her thirties.
The most telling quote in this novella is —My heart isn’t cold, it’s empty— defines the character and makes her journey compelling.
With a hint of Edgar Allan Poe‘s The Telltale Heart, readers will not only consume this story in one sitting, they might just learn to love Marie on their way.
Without delay, Edith headed to the source of those panicked people. Despite being in high heels, she had no trouble at all in maintaining a decent pace. Edith could run for miles, but she needed to keep strength in reserve, just in case.
Since the gates were crowded, Edith let her wings unfold and leapt over the stone fence. This park was a massive affair. There were roadways, hard paths, and trails that crisscrossed every which way. At this time of year, the park was a sight to behold, since trees mimicked the colours of a stunning sunset. Vibrant yellows, reds, and oranges covered the foliage, while pockets of fallen leaves contrasted the still green grass.
Edith followed the stream of fleeing people, until she was able to determine the source of this disturbance. She spotted a parallel path, one that provided cover, and settled on a spot to land. Her senses were heightened and energised. To think that she almost forgot about the thrill of running into danger.
Eventually, the number of evacuees thinned out. Despite the sounds of panic, Edith could hear a whimpering child up ahead. The crying and sniffling were muted, and in the background, there was something else, something she could not identify.
To further her advance, she slowed down and slipped off her shoes. Armed with knives, Edith navigated her way through this park and did so in the utmost silence. Trudging around like a bull elephant would not only give away her position, but was sure to make her a target.
After a few minutes, she came upon a series of bushes. On the other side, the little girl was crying softly. She got down on all fours and crawled underneath the lower branches to get closer, but remained concealed. The first thing she noted was a statue that came out of Lewis Carroll’s imagination.
At first, nothing appeared to be out of place. In fact, it appeared to be deserted. Under normal circumstances, that would have been an anomaly, considering the number of people fleeing the park. Fortunately, the girl sniffled, which helped Edith narrow her search.
Right behind the statue, she saw a little blonde girl, or that was her guess. Other than a patch of untouched hair, this poor creature was covered in blood. Still, the source of that blood really upped the ante. Edith was immediately filled with regret, namely cursing herself for bringing knives to this fight, when the situation called for heavy artillery.
Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!
Edith lunged forward, poised to plunge the blade straight into Clara’s heart. Her eyes focused on the precise spot to strike at the expense of anything else. That is, until a blur of blazing orange materialised from out of the ether.
The apparition gained definition in both shape and form, but the girl maintained a modicum of transparency. The red hair, freckles, and acolyte’s uniform were all clues to this interloper’s identity.
“Carrots,” Clara tried to say, inducing a coughing fit that sprayed liberal amounts of blood over the pavement.
Edith questioned her next step, and the why of this situation was her first thought on the matter. She had not summoned this child, nor was there a reason that she could think of. Doubt set in and infested her thoughts, much to Clara’s relief. Sadly, that coughing fit had been severe enough to render her unconscious.
Angela’s lips moved, but she was unable to vocalise. Frustrated, the apparition closed her eyes, calmed down, and materialised fully into this world.
“What in heaven’s name are you doing?” Angela questioned.
“I’m fulfilling my mission,” Edith said bluntly. Her features then softened before adding, “So I can get back to you.”
Angela smiled before wrapping her arms around her lover’s mid-section. Given their age difference, this looked more like a mother being reunited with her long lost daughter. Edith dropped the blade and lifted the child. That single moment of intimacy was enough to feel whole, wanted, and alive.
“So,” Angela said. “You think that killing the greatest love of your life will bring you back to me?”
Edith jerked her head back and blushed. She never thought it possible that Angela would defend Clara, let alone show a mastery of insight on matters that Edith had yet to admit to herself.
Angela giggled and gave Edith a quick peck on the lips, “You really thought I knew nothing of this, or even suspected?”
“How did you?” Edith asked.
“For one, you summoned me from the grave to fetch Clara. You could have chosen anyone else, like say the Reverend Mother,” Angela replied.
“And?” Edith urged the other to go on.
“I saw you two during the war,” Angela said. “That woman saved your life and endangered her own when she left behind her great coat to keep you warm in the dead of winter.”
Edith always figured that Angela had stayed within the confines of her own world. She never once questioned why Angela was able to recognise her after aging twenty-years. For this to make sense, Angela would have had to visit the overlook and keep an eye out for Edith.
Angela knew the thoughts running through Edith’s mind and said, “Yes, I saw that.” She then giggled before adding, “I wanted you to be happy. So why complicate matters?”
“That… I was aware, yes,” Edith replied.
“Just like I knew that your vigils over the mortal realm were for more than sightseeing,” Angela countered.
Angela squeezed Edith’s neck and kissed her cheek. The senior of the two did not notice any waning in affection or emotion. In fact, the opposite was true.
“Besides, I saw Clara fall to the mortal realm around the same time you did,” Angela said with a nod. “Happened right after that shockwave hit us.”
“You mean?” Edith asked.
“That she was telling you the truth?” Angela asked to confirm. “Yes, Gabriel confirmed it for me. Although that wasn’t the biggest surprise.”
“Oh?” Edith asked.
Angela kissed Edith passionately before pushing herself away and landed on the pavement. She then walked over to Clara, placed her wrist against the wounded woman’s forehead, and shook her head. She then turned to look out towards the alley’s entrance. In the distance, there were signs of panic building in the park and that meant their time was growing short.
“You were waiting for me when I got home,” Angela said with a straight face.
“I was home?” Edith queried.
Angela nodded, “The incarnation of you who never became an angel. The one who finally managed to find release from all of that duty and honour that haunted you in life.”
There was another Edith out there which meant there could be two Claras as well. That did a lot to explain the remnant she found back in the apartment.
“I know you don’t really get what’s going on,” Angela said.
The sounds of people in a panic were growing more pronounced. Edith turned her head to investigate and saw streams of people fleeing the park.
“Your destiny awaits,” Angela said while she pointed to the commotion in the park. “I’ll take care of Clara, just like I did for you. Remember? Now go!”
Angela’s smile was warm and compelling. She remembered seeing that beautiful child, even through the delirium induced by a near fatal infection. All the while, the sense of panic out there continued to grow.
“I love you!” Edith said before running into the chaos.
“I love you too!” Angela said with a smile.
In the back of her mind, Angela hoped that Elizabeth would get back here soon. Otherwise, Clara would not have long in this world.
Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!
“Stop. Wonderland Station,” the automated train chimed.
Victoria opened her eyes for the second time. This time, she was comfortably seated on the padded leather seats of the train. The bright overhead lighting brought on a headache, an unfortunate side effect of waking up from a deep sleep.
As pain radiated out from her temples and spiked through her corneas, Victoria closed her eyes to soften the blow. Alas, there would be no getting a pass; she would just need to get on with it.
“It was all a dream then?” Victoria wondered.
That scene with Evelyn had been so visceral, so real, that she would have bet her life on it being genuine. Evidence spoke to the contrary; this train and the memories of crawling out of that pit were just as tangible.
“I need to tone down my imagination,” Victoria said.
The notice came as the train began to slow down. Victoria saw the world come into focus as they slowed, and just ahead, there was a station.
“Just like the one I left behind?” Victoria pondered while avoiding the difficult question lingering in the air.
Victoria did not know how long she had been unconscious. Without that detail, there was no way of knowing how far they had travelled, nor how many stations, if any, they bypassed before now.
“Wonderland,” Victoria questioned the name of the stop.
After pulling up along a shiny terminal, the train came to a full stop. This time, Victoria had less trouble getting back on her feet.
“Perhaps exhaustion would do me the favour of taking a back seat for now,” Victoria mumbled.
She gave the train one last look before transitioning to the platform. If the name had not been announced, Victoria would have guessed they were back where she had left off. Every aspect of this station matched that of the chapel station: dimensions, colour, and building materials. Even the elevator door was the same, right down to the size and location.
“This doesn’t help me figure out if any of this was real,” Victoria said, with a deep sigh.
Victoria dragged her feet over to the elevator and pressed the golden button. While the button glowed softly, there were no whirrs or hums associated with an elevator coming to life.
“What is this?” Victoria asked.
The doors slid open noiselessly. Instead of an elevator car, Victoria had a direct view of the outside world. Admittedly, she found that hard to digest. How was it that the station’s structural elements were not visible?
Just beyond the golden doors was an artist’s representation of Wonderland. Several notable characters were congregated around a mushroom. Alice sat atop the oversized fungus, which served as a table for the other characters. This landmark was the clue, an important point of reference to explain where she was.
“But how?” Victoria asked.
There were no buildings or structures near that landmark, nor anything above ground. Even though the sun hung low in the eastern sky, children were crawling all over the statue while parents watched. Meanwhile, tourists spent their time taking snapshots of the scene, all to create the illusion of a memorable trip.
A couple was facing the doorway as they posed for a selfie. Victoria rolled her eyes at the spectacle, complete with fake smiles and choreographed pose. Now she found it hard not to add nausea to her list of ailments.
“To appear happy and content for a fraction of a second,” Victoria said.
The smiles momentarily disappeared from the couple’s faces. Their brows dropped and they looked at each other as though questioning their reality.
“They heard me?” Victoria whispered. “They must have.”
Excitement seeped into her weary bones. For the first time in recent memory, she was seeing an end to this ordeal.
During her deliberations, the couple picked up from where they left off. They looked so artificially happy, their smiles large and inviting. They remained in that pose until Victoria walked through the gateway, appearing out of thin air.
Their smiles evaporated, replaced by gaping mouths and glassy eyes. Victoria had seen this many times before in her horror movies. This was the look of dread, one which would be invariably followed by a blood curdling scream.
Before Victoria had a chance to calm the couple, the phone was already plunging towards the ground. Just then, a child caught sight of Victoria and immediately began to shower the lawn with tears. The child’s mother turned to investigate and, upon setting eyes on her child and what stood in the background, shrieked in horror. The sound was so powerful that it rang out into the park.
“That’s going to draw unnecessary attention,” Victoria muttered.
Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!
Oh wow! Fellow indie author Quinn W. Buckland did his fiftieth review on The Van Helsing Resurgence! I think he summed it up best on his associated Goodreads review:
…There’s a sinister plot with some shady creatures, vampires going through their motions and a whole lot of naked ladies all the way through. This book hits all the right notes and I cannot wait for the third book in the series.
What’s not to like about that?
Please take the time to watch his review and subscribe. He has a lot of reviews that are worth looking over!
There was a dull rumble that permeated the atmosphere. The sound was so pervasive that it blocked out everything else. When Victoria awoke, the noise faded into the background, leaving her to wonder what was going on.
It took a great deal of effort, but Victoria managed to pry her eyes open. She found herself sitting on a wooden bench in a train station, surrounded by a world devoid of colour. This was oddly familiar, reminding her of a scene featured in a movie produced well before her time.
Victoria forced herself from the bench using her weary arms for leverage and explored. The tracks were well maintained from what she could see, since the dim glow from the gaslight was quickly swallowed up by the night. Above, she saw the stars shimmer, dancing in that wave of distortion.
She was momentarily mesmerised by the dancing flame, reminding her of the fire she kept going back home. In a way, it was her kindest critic, the one who cheerfully burned away the worst of her work, never judging or critical.
Victoria snapped back into reality when the sky illuminated with lightning. Two separate discharges of energy made the ground tremble, generating a rumble so loud that Victoria hoped her ear drums would not burst.
Victoria collapsed onto the bench and held her hands against her ears. That seemed to help, minimally, but a small part of her questioned why each instance of thunder produced a distinctive musical note.
The sky lit up again, creating another spectacular light show, one that displayed a wide range of colours. This time, every flash of light corresponded to a sound, and Victoria needed time to realise that these sounds formed vowels, which, in turn, became recognisable words.
“Next,” the sky rumbled.
While the words echoed between the buildings, Victoria’s mind struggled to process all of this stimuli. The situation was more like a memory than a dream. In addition to the sights and sounds, she could smell and feel the rough surface of the bench. Never had a dream been this vivid, and she thanked God that this was the exception rather than the rule.
“Next?” Victoria asked. “What possible meaning could that word have?”
There was an infinite number of combinations that could include that word. Her mind struggled to find common phrases or sentences but came up empty. Exhaustion was her constant companion now, one she would rather do without. She wanted nothing more than to put her head down for a while. Would that do her any good in this environment?
Victoria sensed that the wind was beginning to pick up. Clouds began to form into a funnel cloud, one large enough to encompass the entire sky. Victoria searched for cover but realised there was nothing suitable to weather a storm of this magnitude.
This time, when the sky lit up, the lights were so powerful that Victoria was blinded. She shut her eyes as hard as she could but still saw red filtering through her eyelids.
“Is this the end?” Victoria wondered.
Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!
