I look on at a catalyst who carries me through life, the girl who has become a lynchpin to me, who cuts through the noise, the reverberations, and I feel alive. Nicely placed, she pulls out her umbrella as the rain pours from immaculate heavens.
Natalie was beautiful. She didn’t know it, but she was. Beautiful like something else. It was a broken and used-up kind of grace. A bouquet of rain-soaked flowers and silk ribbons laid to rest at the side of an empty lane where someone had died in a car wreck.
Jayson had put together a handpicked crew of capable but morally flexible people. Neither of them had previous military experience; one of them, Ocampo, had even served time. They wouldn’t win any medals or provide examples for a training manual, but Jayson didn’t care about that. He just needed for them to serve their purpose, and that they would most certainly do.
Payback, it had been a long time coming but finally, I had the bastard. The last time we’d been out, Kyle had spiked my drink. I was so off my tits, I couldn’t bring my eyeballs down from the top of my head.
The Duke has no time for dogma;
sees through the lies and facts.
The Duke eyes another place
of realities between the layers;
our place in the stars.
Orlov had been putting the finishing touches on a newly upholstered couch when the phone rang. He picked up on the second ring. When K began to talk, Orlov flipped a switch near the base of the phone to scramble the signal and encode the conversation.
It’s Bladerunner, with some pure James Ellroy style noir magic. A joy to get lost in. I can’t wait to go back!
Man of the World is out now with All Due Respect, who are purveyors of mighty fine low life literature. Brazill’s book felt a bit like if Guy Ritchie had directed The Ladykillers (1955 version)… It’s a Brit-Grit belter laced with music to die for. Concentrated razor-sharp dialogue, lyrical dynamics and poetry are all in …
Continue reading “REVIEW: Man of the World by Paul D. Brazill”
Love + Hate in Rain City
‘BLEAK, STARK AND BRUTAL…’
‘Lyrical-poetry and prose mixes
with the blood down harsh
I didn’t notice his shadow next to me at first. And it could have passed for my own reflection in the mirror behind the bar — seeing double was nothing new. The air about him was the same as mine: tainted.