Monday, 14 January 2013

Will he return?

 You have probably read my reports on Book 2 of Chronicles of Mark Johnson. There has been a lot of conjecture about Mark's return, as book 1 has not gone well. Would I do it? Would I publish it? If so would it go on general release? Or just for friends?
          A lot of questions, and to be honest at this time  have no answers. A lot of hopes rested on Book 1, some theories say if people are interested in book 2, they may go back for book 1
         My personal view based on the last four months for book 1, is a quote from my favourite detective "flummery," meaning it's all fluff and bluster and nothing solid. 
         As you can see from Angela's cover, this is a dark and brooding series of stories, filled with evil for the latter half. Here is the start of book 2, in case it does not come out.


                                                             MARK ELIJAH JOHNSON RETURNS            
Mark Johnson rarely used his middle name, even though he liked it. If he did, you could guarantee he was up for action and nothing would deter him. He had seen things no living person should, been through scrapes and just when you think he is out on a limb, and about to be killed. He would turn around and with a swift move, turn defeat into a close battle for victory. Now his former lover Annette had left him he had taken to working out in the attic.

He was in his attic, when the house phone rang. Only two people had his number, Annette, usually called on the mobile number. It could only be one person, Phil Moore, long time friend and now agent “Hi, Phil. What can I do for you?”

“For now, I just wanted to pop over for a chat about what went down at Longfletch. It still worries me, even though it was weeks ago.”

“Sure, you know you’re welcome, any time you want a chat.”

“Thanks, I was a bit worried that you might have decided not to talk other than business. It's a long time, since we had a chat as just good mates.”

“You know where I am. Drop over some time.”

“I have a free afternoon tomorrow. How are you fixed?”

“I was just going to go for my walk along the cliffs, to feel the air and get close to my core but that can wait. The gulls won’t mind missing me for a day.”

“Okay, I'll be over about 2:30. Make sure you have the pot hot, as we need a long chat.”

“You should know me better than that. All the years you have known me, when don’t I have a coffee on the boil.” As he said this, Mark laughed.

Phil was still worried, that maniacal twinge was still there, even two weeks since he walked away from Longfletch.“Even after the horror of returning to North moor, were he had to beat his own demon, Mark hadn't taken this long”, Phil thought.”He hasn't been out much either, which is even scarier. At least Annette got him to go to town, even if only for food and drinks. He hadn't been seen since Longfletch.”

Mark might not have many friends in Portmoor but he was known and well liked. The people who knew him had seen the changes and were seriously worried about him.

The day arrived with storm clouds over the bay and the threat of rains to come.

Driving out to the house Phil thought “Great, just what I want!”

Approaching the house, he noticed, all the curtains drawn, although it was the middle of the afternoon. There were no sign of life, opening the front door, he saw a cold kettle. Mark usually had the kettle on, for his friend but today is was stone cold. The back door was bolted and the key missing. Mark never did that, he loved to hear the roar of the sea below and the gulls cawing, put together all these things were gathering, to make Phil wish he had not suggested meeting his friend.

Some things were not fitting well for Phil, Mark was usually not this secluded, almost hermitical. Walking around the lower floor, Phil noticed the lack of cleanliness, and webs everywhere. From upstairs he could hear the same noises as last time. It was obvious to Phil that Mark was in the attic again. How long had he been there?  And what condition was he in? Slowly, Phil walked up the stairs to the landing. Not sure what to expect this time, there was always the threat that if you dealt with these things too long, sooner or later, the evil within them seeped into you.

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