About In Darkness Dwells
by Nicole Wilkinson
377 pages / 106000 words
ISBN: 978-1-61040-538-6
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American PI Elias Grimm has just accepted the case of a lifetime:
billionaire Baron McPherson's son has died, and his father is sure it's
murder. McPherson's offer is worth enough that Elias can finally get Uncle
Sam and his ex-wife off his back. Elias travels to Japan, where he finds
ancient grudges, the mystical power of a deity, and the equally mysterious
Madison Suou, who might hold all the answers Elias needs.
Elias soon learns that the billionaire's son was only one of many victims,
and he knows he's ill-equipped to handle a serial killer. Especially one who
kills in a manner that can't be explained by modern medicine or science. But
the money’s too good to back out, and so is Madison.
Review
Mara Ismine, author of Smoke, a Dark Masters story, writes: I loved this
gripping story. It is a delightful mix of murder mystery, crime,
supernatural and romance. I loved the blend of genres and they work well
against the Japanese background. The writing almost has texture and scent;
and I wish I’d had the time to immerse myself in it and read from start to
finish without interruption. I am going to savour the second reading.
Everything is filtered through private detective Elias Grimm’s rather
cynical view of life and his determination to keep his softer centre well
hidden. Elias isn’t a happy person and comes across as rather abrasive at
times at the start of the story, but as he is faced with an impossible case
well out of his normal league that is understandable.
I could feel Elias’ frustration as he tries to make sense of what little
information he has and makes virtually no progress in discovering who is
doing the killing, how or even why. The murder mystery moves slowly forward
gaining impetus as Elias collects clues and then roars to a satisfying
conclusion.
Sample
I stepped into the shrine and the door closed behind me
with a quiet click. I dripped all over the polished floor, watching as
twenty or so patrons moved around the room. Lighting candles. Offering
prayers. Browsing display cases packed with assorted jewelry, all crafted
with silver foxes in some shape or another.
They were elegant creations, similar but with subtle differences. A slightly
thickened tail here, rounder ears there. Obviously, each one was handmade
and crafted well at that.
Whoever created these works was incredibly talented. I held a brief moment
of jealousy, my own hands suited better for destruction.
I reached for one of the charms, drawing it into sight and dragging the
thin, delicate chain with it. The fox here had four tails and crouched low
to the proverbial ground as though preparing to pounce. The detail in the
small charm was exquisite. I could see tufts of hair and groove lines.
“You know, the more tails a kitsune has, the stronger he is. Some even say
that the nine-tailed kitsune is entirely omniscient.”
I blinked at the familiar voice and slowly turned, the necklace draped
lightly over my fingers.
A face – as familiar as the voice – came into view, as well as the man it
belonged to. Though he wasn’t wearing the casual clothes I remembered.
Instead, he was dressed in traditional hakama, shitagi and haori – all of
them no doubt custom to accommodate his unusual height. Had I ever been
struck with the urge to dress in the traditional Japanese clothing, I would
have to do the same.
I was struck with how right he looked in this clothing, not at all out of
place or uncomfortable. The earthy brown, blue, and green tones highlighted
the dark brown of his hair. And he held himself with the confident, refined
air of a Japanese businessman. I wondered if he had been born here or if he
was more like me – American down to his marrow.
“Madison,” I said tonelessly, inclining my head in greeting as hazel eyes
swept over me, too guarded for me to read their intent. “Or should I say
Takashi Suou?”
A slow smile curled the other man’s pale lips. I wasn’t sure how I should
call him.
“Madison is my American given name, but I wouldn’t make much of a Suou if I
used it,” he clarified for me.
“So I see.” I knew his name; it seemed only polite that I offer mine in
return. “Elias Grimm.”
Madison – Takashi – bowed shallowly. “What a coincidence that we should meet
again,” he said, a hint of a smile curving his lips. A hint of humor and
something else, intrigue perhaps.
I half-turned, setting the necklace back in the display case at my direct
right. “I don’t believe in coincidences,” I said, ignoring the twitch in my
groin at the sight of that half-smirk. I remembered quite vividly how it
felt to have him moving against me and I would be lying if I said I didn’t
want to experience it again.
But now was not the time. Now was business. And I was pretty sure there was
some old adage out there about mixing business with pleasure. No good could
come of it.