Sunday, 4 December 2011

Time's Arrow - one week to go!

That's right - voting closes next Sunday, 11 December, so you've only got a week in which to download Time's Arrow: Red-Handed and then vote for how you would like the story to continue in Time's Arrow: Black Swan.

And in case you're still wavering as to whether you should buy it for your Kindle (or other eReader of your choice), then here's another tasty snippet from early on in the adventure...

The thunderous hammering came again, the impatience and ire in the voice rising from below growing in intensity.
“This is your last chance! This is the police! Open the door or I’ll have it broken down!” There was a tremendous crash from somewhere at street level. The owner of the voice was making good on his promise.
Staggering to his feet Ulysses scoured the room for anything that might enable him to escape.
There were only two ways out of the garret room – through the door or through the window.
For the briefest moment Ulysses wondered whether he should simply open the door and wait for the gendarmes to find him, and then worry about trying to explain to them how he came to be there, alongside a dead body.
But then what was he thinking? Who was going to believe that he had travelled through space and time to end up here? And what would they make of the scorch-marks on the floorboards, let alone the corpse lying in a pool of its own congealing blood.
He took a step backwards and caught his reflection in the cracked glass above the wash bowl.
He was in a worse state than the room. He was still wearing the scruffy suit he had purloined from Castle Frankenstein. His right hand was wet with blood, as were the knees of his trousers. The eye-patch and a few days growth of stubble didn’t help either.
He no longer looked like the bachelor once voted ‘Best Dressed Man of the Decade’ by The Strand magazine. If he had been a French policeman and had walked into the attic and found a stranger looking like that – with a dead man’s blood on his hands and the victim lying next to him – he would have pronounced him guilty as soon as the next man.
Worst case? The gendarmes would shoot first and ask questions later.
He looked at the door, noticing the key in the lock for the first time. Stumbling over, he tried the handle.
The door was locked.

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