Almost there, now...
I just finished the final proof-read of the second book in the series, 'Black, White and Shades of Mediochre'. All that remains now is to send the final version to the publishers and agree on a release date. Should I still force you all to wait until August? It could certainly be amusing...
To celebrate, though, and to keep you going until then, here's a preview of the book in question.
Enjoy,
Calum P Cameron
(The P Stands for Proof-reader)
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Once more, the drone of the engine faded away as the car slowed down and parked. Once more, the doors opened and four pairs of shoes hit the ground in rapid succession.
Another door. Another house. Another mystery.
Although, technically, this wasn’t actually a house. It was more like a tenement block. A functional, grey cuboid, rising up into the skyline like a really big brick dropped in the middle of an otherwise pleasant garden. Except that, if one looked behind it, there were other identical bricks arranged there. Charlotte didn’t know if there was a collective noun for bricks. She didn’t really care. But looking at these flats, she couldn’t help but think that there should be one, and it should be something along the lines of ‘obstruction’. An obstruction of really, really big bricks.
The first immediate problem in their way was the door. It was, of course, locked. The council appeared to have developed, from somewhere, the notion that there would be people in the world who might have reason to wish to be inside this particular depressing obelisk. To gain ingress to these hallowed halls, the intrepid sanctuary-seeker would have to convince one of its resident keepers of the sacred locking mechanism. Or, as Mediochre illustrated, drag said mechanism open through clever manoeuvring of an IMP which, it turned out, would double as an electromagnet if you weren’t too worried about draining the battery.
“It’s all about the angles,” he explained off-handedly as they strolled inside. “Many things are. Pool. Archery. Standard Grade trigonometry.”
The second quandary to blight their valiant intrusion attempt was, fittingly, also a door. Namely the one to the apartment. Mediochre knocked politely. When an answer failed to present itself, he knocked impolitely. Again, a response spectacularly fell short of manifesting. Shrugging, he turned the handle. The door opened.
Mediochre did not like the way the door opened. After the flat had appeared so empty, such an unresisting opening couldn’t help but seem like a devious ploy. It had to be said that in his many years, Mediochre had never encountered a devious ploy concocted by a door before, but, nevertheless, caution seemed like the most productive course of action.
Mediochre allowed Joseph to push firmly past him, AFIK drawn. He followed, and Charlotte followed him, trying to look unlike a loose end. Dhampinella brought up the rear, silently as always. The flat opened out before them like a surprisingly boring pop-up book. It was wholly unremarkable. In fact, it was even less wholly remarkable than one would expect from the flat of two twentysomethings. There was some basic furniture, which was clean and tastefully arranged. There was a television set, which was off. There was even a pot plant, which was almost disappointingly alive.
Unperturbed, Joseph prodded open a door with his foot. This next room was a bedroom. Pale green carpet, washed-out blue walls. White bed sheets. Wardrobe, possibly pine. Quite nice really, for a council flat. Better than you’d expect, seeing it from the outside.
Dhampinella stopped. Stiffened. A look of incomprehension flitted across her striking face. She blinked, several times. Hesitated. Spoke.
“Joseph.”
Joseph immediately wheeled around, concern bordering on panic splashed across his features.
“What? Dhampinella?” The Dhampir shuddered.
“Living things in this room,” she said. “There are three. That’s you, Mediochre and the kid.”
“Uh-huh,” agreed Joseph. Dhampinella continued.
“But there’s no background fuzz. That’s unusual. And then I look for Undead creatures...” She tailed off. Dhampir never tail off. Despite this, Joseph remained in some semblance of calm.
“How many?” he asked. Dhampinella shook her head.
“I lose count after seventeen trillion.”
