by Brett Adams
But Hiero . . .
To finally see the end game clearly through his eyes.
In his version, there was no choice. Jack Griffen simply murdered his ex-wife and daughter in cold blood. It left Hiero and Jack together at last, ready to write the first chapter of a new story.
The final revelation was that Hiero was ‘like unto a son to Jack’—his words. And Jack had now demonstrated the depth of his love for the boy.
Deeply twisted.
And deeply human.
A couple of days later I wrote Hiero my first email. He responded the same day, and it’s become a regular thing.
It’s probably hopeless. But the author in me wonders if it’s possible to recover some part of the man Hiero could have been before the boy was derailed at age eleven when his father left.
And I even told Kim.
See? I’m learning.
Author’s Note
If you enjoyed reading Blood and Ink (and Sweat and Tears), can I ask you a favor? Would you be kind enough to leave a review on Amazon? Feedback will help this book find its audience.
Click here to leave a review on Amazon.com.
It’s much appreciated.
Hunting through backups of the manuscript for Blood and Ink (then called The Redactor), I was surprised to find notes six years old. Back then, Jack’s story was just a germ of an idea, a What-If centered on how it would feel to find yourself the main character in a real-life thriller. How would it feel for a normal person, someone like you or me—I’m normal; I can’t speak for you—to be dropped into a murder scene? To be maneuvered by someone into a choice between abetting murder and attempting murder?
That someone, of course, is Hiero—hero, in his eyes, of his own story. Hiero has the cash, time, creativity, and charisma to run his experiment with Jack’s life. It helps that he also has a few kangaroos loose in the top paddock (as my grandad would have put it), which itself is not entirely his fault. I explored a similar idea in the short story Heft, which is part of the free anthology, All These Shiny Worlds.
After the wringer I put Jack through, I’m glad he got to write his own ending. Fingers crossed for him and Kim.
If you’re also a Story nerd (and not a homicidal maniac), you can ping me on twitter or facebook at DweomingWell, or send me an email at [email protected]. You can also subscribe to my newsletter. I appreciate all honest feedback, and love talking story.
If you’re interested in reading more of my books, Dark Matter is closest in tone to Blood and Ink.
DARK MATTER – Rasputin “Monk” Lowdermilk wanted to end it all. But when he is run down by a car on the way to his suicide, he finds that life is just beginning.
While recovering he begins to discover strange new abilities. He can draw portraits so precise they look like photographs. He can remember with flawless clarity everything he’s ever seen or heard, no matter how trivial. He can read strangers so well it verges on telepathy.
But with these gifts come strange visions tinged with menace. And the one thing Rasputin doesn’t know is that his new abilities have been noticed, by ancient and evil forces who recognise what the gifts mean and what they will become. Unfortunately, his new life is only of benefit to them if he’s dead.
Dark Matter is a cerebral mystery that plays fair — and dares you to solve it.
If hardboiled detective fiction with a twist of speculative fiction is your thing, then checkout Strawman Made Steel. It introduces Janus McIlwraith, provenor of Newer York, shop-worn knight, and inveterate thrall to a lost cause.
STRAWMAN MADE STEEL – Janus McIlwraith knows New York City. From the grimy basement bars where the underclass mutter and curse to the gleaming penthouse apartments where the elite plot and control, he's seen it all, and he's never been happy about it. He's a private investigator who works the city the old fashioned way. No internet. No databases. No smartphones.
Not that he has a choice in the matter.
Because Janus knows two New York Cities. There's the one with Facebook, The Tonight Show and iPods. And there's the one he enters through the mirror, the one with genetic supermen, skyscraper canons, and a certain subatomic particle that's misbehaving . . .
And when McIlwraith takes on the case of the rich boy whose brutalized corpse is found in a dumpster, he little realizes how deep the case will cut―right to his very core, to the place where, like this city, his own soul is split in two.
About the Author
Brett Adams lives in Perth, Australia, with his wife and three children. He has a PhD in Computer Science, and develops mobile applications. He writes short stories and novels that invite scratching below the surface.
Find Brett at:
[email protected]
DweomingWell