Release date: November 30, 2020
Subgenre: Gaslamp Fantasy
About An Enigma in Silver:
England, 1871. A quiet country village is rocked by murder.
Police have no leads and no clues, apart from the grisly state of the
victim's body.
Evidence points to a supernatural killer, but Professor Twickham is curiously reluctant to lend his assistance.
Roberta, his daughter, has no such qualms, and she involves me in the case as well... only to turn around and abandon me for a sick friend.
Now I must unmask the vicious killer on my own, but had I only known the truth, I'd never have got involved...
This standalone novel is the second title in the Mysteries in Metal gaslamp fantasy series.
Evidence points to a supernatural killer, but Professor Twickham is curiously reluctant to lend his assistance.
Roberta, his daughter, has no such qualms, and she involves me in the case as well... only to turn around and abandon me for a sick friend.
Now I must unmask the vicious killer on my own, but had I only known the truth, I'd never have got involved...
This standalone novel is the second title in the Mysteries in Metal gaslamp fantasy series.
Excerpt:
Together we turned and hurried up the hall, prancing on tip-toes to
avoid making any noise, and in doing so we must have looked for all the
world like a pair of pantomime villains. We reached the dining room, but
instead of entering Roberta took my hand and pulled me towards the
front door. Outside, in the mid-morning sunshine, we took the short path
to the front gate, where she led me into the street.
"I think we've run far enough," I said, quite out of breath.
"We're not running, Septimus. I want to speak to those policemen."
"But why?"
"I'm intrigued. Are you not?"
I confessed that I was. When I first met the professor and Roberta, I had no inkling they were engaged in the hunting and trapping of other-worldly spirits. At first I dismissed their business as a type of confidence trick, designed to milk rich folk, but the moment I encountered my first phantasm all thoughts of trickery were quickly forgotten. Indeed, that memory would haunt me forever. Now, it seemed the police had a case involving something of the supernatural, and I wanted to know more. "I'm surprised your father was not more receptive."
"He may have been, had they offered remuneration," said Roberta, with a shrug. "In any case, you and I will decide whether this case merits further attention, while my father reads the newspaper and enjoys the rest of his breakfast."
"We're going to talk to the police?"
"Not us. Me. And here they come."
The two policemen were tall and forbidding, and were made even more so by their helmets and dark blue uniforms. Worse, they bore expressions like thunder, and I prayed Roberta did not antagonise them further.
"Sirs, might I speak with you?"
"Not now miss," grunted one of the policemen. "We're on urgent business."
"I know. You were just speaking to my father."
"Professor Twickham? You're the daughter?"
Well, I thought, you couldn't fault their powers of deduction. But by now Roberta had their undivided attention, and I moved closer, much as they did, eager to see how things might turn out. The older of the two policemen looked Roberta up and down, then glanced at me. His scrutiny was brief but intense, and I felt as though he were peering into my very soul. Then he returned his attention to Roberta, and I let out a relieved breath.
"We can't talk in the street, miss," growled the policeman. He indicated a waiting cab, the horse flicking away flies with its jet-black tail and with sudden shakes of its mane. "You'd better come down the station."
"I think we've run far enough," I said, quite out of breath.
"We're not running, Septimus. I want to speak to those policemen."
"But why?"
"I'm intrigued. Are you not?"
I confessed that I was. When I first met the professor and Roberta, I had no inkling they were engaged in the hunting and trapping of other-worldly spirits. At first I dismissed their business as a type of confidence trick, designed to milk rich folk, but the moment I encountered my first phantasm all thoughts of trickery were quickly forgotten. Indeed, that memory would haunt me forever. Now, it seemed the police had a case involving something of the supernatural, and I wanted to know more. "I'm surprised your father was not more receptive."
"He may have been, had they offered remuneration," said Roberta, with a shrug. "In any case, you and I will decide whether this case merits further attention, while my father reads the newspaper and enjoys the rest of his breakfast."
"We're going to talk to the police?"
"Not us. Me. And here they come."
The two policemen were tall and forbidding, and were made even more so by their helmets and dark blue uniforms. Worse, they bore expressions like thunder, and I prayed Roberta did not antagonise them further.
"Sirs, might I speak with you?"
"Not now miss," grunted one of the policemen. "We're on urgent business."
"I know. You were just speaking to my father."
"Professor Twickham? You're the daughter?"
Well, I thought, you couldn't fault their powers of deduction. But by now Roberta had their undivided attention, and I moved closer, much as they did, eager to see how things might turn out. The older of the two policemen looked Roberta up and down, then glanced at me. His scrutiny was brief but intense, and I felt as though he were peering into my very soul. Then he returned his attention to Roberta, and I let out a relieved breath.
"We can't talk in the street, miss," growled the policeman. He indicated a waiting cab, the horse flicking away flies with its jet-black tail and with sudden shakes of its mane. "You'd better come down the station."
Amazon | Paperback
About Simon Haynes:
Simon Haynes is the author of the Hal Spacejock series, the Hal Junior
series, and the upcoming Harriet Walsh series, as well as several dozen
short stories. He is also the programmer and designer behind Spacejock
Software, and is responsible for popular programs like yWriter and
yBook.
No comments:
Post a Comment