Looking for some great books? Electric Detective will light you up!
It’s Humphrey Bogart meets The Man in the High Castle.
Raymond Chandler meets Philip K. Dick
Eddie Evers was at the top of his game, working for the FBI, tracking missing children, and the scum who took them. But when his wife and child are killed in a car crash, he leaves the force and becomes a hard-drinking PI.
While in pursuit of a phantom criminal, he’s hit by lightning. The bolt super-charges the biophotons in his brain,
enabling him to see into other dimensions and experience electricity in a whole new light.
When Eddie returns home from the hospital he discovers he’s not the only one who’s been struck …..
“On the porch sat a black cat. It wasn’t mine. I don’t have a cat or a dog, a wife, a child, or even a goldfish. I did once, but that was a long time ago…
The cat looked at me and strolled over, rubbing back and forth between my legs … and then I saw it, the burn – wine-red, cut into its flesh, like the veins of a leaf, zigzagged across its smooth fur. The cat looked at me with large pale eyes, they were probably green, but I couldn’t see the color.
Something passed between us, something more than words. I could feel signals like small jolts of electricity running across the red stream of my lightning mark.
I opened the door to my house. It had once been home, but now it was only a place to sleep, and eat. There was a piano in the corner, silent as a crypt, dark as a shadow. I didn’t look at it.
The cat followed me inside, and stalked over to the cabinet where I keep my cans. It was like the furry devil knew where I kept the food. I opened a tin of tuna for him, and poured a shot of Jack Daniels for me. I put the tuna next to me on the table. I took a long sip of whiskey. It felt good going down, like a soft bed at the end of a long day, but it wasn’t enough to soften the rough borders of my soul.
The cat leapt up and curled his tongue into the juice. It seemed so natural, me by the table, him on it, just two guys sharing a drink. He didn’t touch the fish, but lapped up all the liquid, leaving behind desiccated chunks of tuna that dried into a small, fishy canyon. Apparently he wasn’t big on solids either.
The cat was male. I knew it, just as I knew his name, Max. But I didn’t know how I knew. I’m a practical guy. I like proof. I like facts I don’t like knowing things without a reason.. In the near darkness, Max rubbed my hand, first with his wet nose, then with the red scar that vibrated with heat. I wondered if he’d lost his memory too. …”
So if you like science – biophotos- Raymond chandler – detectives – clever banters and CATS – get a copy
Max needs tuna
E. E. King 