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Titanshade

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Titanshade

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Author: Dan Stout
Publisher: DAW Books, 2019
Series: The Carter Archives: Book 1

1. Titanshade
2. Titan's Day
3. Titan Song

Book Type: Novel
Genre: Fantasy
Sub-Genre Tags: Urban Fantasy
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Synopsis

Carter's a homicide cop in Titanshade, an oil boomtown where 8-tracks are state of the art, disco rules the radio, and all the best sorcerers wear designer labels. It's also a metropolis teetering on the edge of disaster. As its oil reserves run dry, the city's future hangs on a possible investment from the reclusive amphibians known as Squibs.

But now negotiations have been derailed by the horrific murder of a Squib diplomat. The pressure's never been higher to make a quick arrest, even as Carter's investigation leads him into conflict with the city's elite. Undermined by corrupt coworkers and falsified evidence, and with a suspect list that includes power-hungry politicians, oil magnates, and mad scientists, Carter must find the killer before the investigation turns into a witch-hunt and those closest to him pay the ultimate price on the filthy streets of Titanshade.


Excerpt

1

It was the back side of Friday and I sat at the bar of Mickey the Finn's. My hands laced around a cup of warm joe as I kept silent time to the jukebox, eyes fixed on the clock where it hung by a single crooked nail above a row of liquor bottles. Its minute hand crept ever closer to that magic hour: the moment when my shift would end, and I'd be free to order something stiffer. I was a few ticks away from paradise when the pager in my coat pocket began buzzing. I fished it out and squinted at the faded green display. The three-digit code read 187. Homicide. I flagged down the bartender and asked for the phone.

He brought it over, untangling the cord and dropping it on the bar top hard enough to jangle the ringer. I spun the rotary dial and waited for Dispatch to pick up.

I jotted the details down in my notepad. Room 430 at the Eagle Crest Hotel. I hung up, dropped enough change to cover my coffee, and with an ache I felt in my bones, pulled myself off the cracked vinyl seat of the barstool.

Copyright © 2019 by Dan Stout


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