Hello dear followers. In case you missed it (though you probably didn’t because I keep spazzing about it) I am releasing a book. It’s an urban supernatural crime thriller full of strange deaths that have been happening in the city where the only clue tends to be some sort of animal, or part of an animal (bird feathers, for example). Today, I want to post a small snippet from the book. Currently, it’s being assigned an editor, then that whole process can begin :)
This is a small scene between two main characters: Alex Sampson (the detective in charge of the strange murder case) and Nicholas Ryker (geeky friend extraordinaire)
Warnings for this snippet: Friendly banter
Story up to this point: A rock star has been found dead and the only clue is a small butterfly.
***
“Any word Nick-Nack?”
“It’s still Nicholas, Alex.”
Nicholas ‘Nick-Nack’ — it’s still Nicholas, Alex — Ryker sits at his computer, several windows open and showing different pictures of butterflies. His eyes scan each box, closing the ones he doesn’t need and opening up five more in a matter of seconds. At least, it would be seconds, if not for the outdated technology of the city’s finests. What kind of officers of the law are they when they can’t even afford decent internet?
“Isn’t that it?” Alex points at one of the butterflies on the screen, standing behind Nicholas now.
“No,” Nicholas says, “That’s not the right shade of purple in its wings.”
“Looks like it to me.”
“Well it’s not.”
“How can you tell?”
Nicholas spins around in his computer chair to look up at Alex. He’s wearing a pair of large, black glasses, the thick frames wrapped around eyes that are bright like green Christmas lights. His hair is a couple of different shades like browning autumn leaves, the strands sticking up thanks to a handful of hair gel. A black and white striped shirt covers his thin build, tucked into a pair of crisp blue jeans. He doesn’t look like he’s a part of the police force, his skin is smooth and the perfect shade of baby pink unlike Alex’s rough texture. His hours are spent on the computer and he doesn’t have the ‘luxury’ of investigations, crime scenes, and living on energy drinks and packaged Japanese noodles.
“It’s too light, Alex,” Nicholas says, voice laced with disdain, “God, didn’t you learn basic colors in elementary school?”
“Yeah. Red blue and whatever the hell,” then Alex smirks, “I know how you know the difference. It’s because you’re-”
“Gay. Yes. Yes I am gay and I know colors.”
Alex attempts to ruffle Nicholas’ hair and fails, the gel forcing him to smash the molded hair down like a crispy pancake. It springs back up as soon as Alex moves his hand away, “Damn, how do you get your hair like that?”
Nicholas smiles, “It’s a secret amongst us gay men. If you join the club I’ll let you know.”
“Nick-Nack I’ve told you that if you grow breasts and stop standing in line at midnight for hard to pronounce video games I’ll give you a shot.”
Nicholas sighs and says it again. “It’s still Nicholas, Alex.”
