Psychological Romance Thriller
Date Published: 6/20/2015
What would it be like to have no feelings? No desire, no anger,
no pleasure? Behold Martin Dash. A man who possesses stunning features that
captivate all who encounter him but is also cursed with a medical condition
that means he has no emotion to give in return. But one woman is convinced that
there is something behind the apparently blank façade and sets out on a dark
trail to uncover the haunted past that holds the key to the mystery; a journey
that takes in politics, criminal finance, London's neo-burlesque scene and,
finally . . . murder. MARTIN DASH is the first book of a trilogy that relates
the bizarre experiences of a young man whose life was always destined to be
terrifying as well as exceptional.
EXCERPT
They had only just arrived at the club,
having spent a couple of hours in the bars around Soho first by way of a
warm-up. Evidently they had just missed
an act as the stage hands were clearing away the detritus: various
lurid-coloured items of women’s underwear, feather boas, and what looked to
Susan suspiciously like dildos – several large ones – again of lurid
colours. There was also a reddish liquid
splashed about the stage, which was now being cleared and dried up. Susan thought that must have been a hell of
warm up act – the crowd was still buzzing and there was a crackling atmosphere
in the room.
The audience was an unholy mix of young
professionals, out for some deviant kicks to leaven their otherwise dully shiny
careers – sorry, lives; bohemian types with long ringlet hair and
multi-coloured waistcoats; leather and denim-clad bikers trying to out-mean
each other; genuine freaks of all shapes and sizes (the noisiest group); and a
general morass of hard-core, seasoned Soho dwellers identifiable from their
black clothes, white pallor and studied nonchalance.
The one thing common to all was that they
were, to a man / woman / in-between, heavily drunk.
Everyone was nominally at one of the small
circular tables that arced in rows around the stage and terraced back towards
the bar and side walls, the last two rows being at slightly higher
elevations. But the tables weren’t
holding them as many were up on their feet, moving from table to table, or
simply meandering about the place, entirely without purpose.
There was a heavy disco track bumping away in
the background and some were swaying along; others were simply hollering and
screaming randomly; and amorous couples were pawing at each other, obviously
over-stimulated by what they had already seen.
The whole scene pulsed with a throw-caution-to-the-wind,
end-of-the-century, wild abandonment that was itself intoxicating. The numerous drinks already downed by Susan
and Carol were, in any event, doing their remorseless damage but the two
adventurers were also being carried along by this heady atmosphere.
They looked at each other again and
simultaneously burst out laughing together.
“Wow, what a place !” shouted Susan above the
din.
“It’s awesome !” shouted Carol, happily.
They clinked their glasses together and took
another ill-judged glug.
Their table was a couple of rows back from
the front of the stage, not centre but more towards the wall on their right as
they faced the stage. As Susan’s eyes
tracked along the row of tables up against the wall, she noticed that there was
a larger table at the end nearest the stage that was empty (in fact, it must
have been the only empty table in the place) but it was roped off with the red
tasselled rope beloved of egotistical club owners the world over.
She presumed, matter-of-factly, that this
must be Michael Green’s table but he didn’t appear to be in the house this
evening. Through the alcoholic haze, the
common sense voice told her it was obviously naïve to assume that she only had
to turn up at one of his many business ventures and expect him to be sat
waiting for her. But still, she was
disappointed.
However, that disappointment didn’t have time
to linger for, at that moment, the swell of noise suddenly increased to a roar
of approbation and she spun her head towards the stage just in time to see the
entrance of a sparkling, throbbing vision in a full-length red sequined
fishtail dress, bare shoulders, huge cleavage, full length black satin gloves,
big blond hair, stacked black eyelashes and pouting fire engine red lips – a
picture of voluptuousness.
This was The World Famous *BOB*.
AUTHOR BIO
Contact Information
Website: www.bonjabooks.com
Facebook:
www.facebook.com/AndyBaileyMartinDash
Twitter: @AndyBailey23
Purchase Links
If you enjoy this excerpt there's plenty more of the same in the book and please feel free to ask me any questions you like, either here or on my Facebook or Twitter pages (links above); also, the Martin Dash ebook is currently on a FREE promotion at Amazon until (and including) this Friday the 11th December - cheers, Andy Bailey
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