The Red Gift: The Peregrine Dunn Papers

By William Thomas Maxwell

A magical version of modern Los Angeles, an ex-druid down on his luck. Some people spend New Years Eve alone, some with family, some in celebration with a bunch of raucous strangers. Peregrine Dunn (the protagonist of the upcoming novel, SILENCE IN THE CHAPEL, and the narrator of this story) spends this time quieter than most. In a version of Los Angeles where angels actually do come on the Solstice, this is probably a wise thing. Too bad that's not how this night will go.

Includes an excerpt from SILENCE IN THE CHAPEL.

• Language: English
• Publisher: William Thomas Maxwell
• Release date: Oct 19, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536596816

Book preview

Dedicated to the mad, divine poet who saw hope in an eternal winter.

Ten years from now…

Or ten years before?

A ten thousand year old curse

breaks.

The impact of this event

Ripples back and forth

Over 75 years.

This is what happens next.

Some people spend New Years Eve alone, some with family, some in celebration with a bunch of raucous strangers. Peregrine Dunn (the protagonist of the novel, Silence in the Chapel, and the narrator of this story) spends this time quieter than most. In a version of Los Angeles where angels actually do come on the Solstice, this is probably a wise thing. Too bad that's not how this night will go.

†

The Red Gift

By

William Thomas Maxwell

Confession time, people – this time of year, when angels come soaring in on the Winter Solstice and hang around until the Epiphany, while everyone else is out celebrating and ringing in the holiday cheer, I lay low. No cases, if possible, no last minute assignments to wrap up, no digging into problems. Just take time off and refuse to be judged. Course, that means no booze. Sometimes I get a little testy on the sauce, or inquisitive. Which might make you wonder why I was hanging around a classy whiskey joint like the Seven Grand on a Wednesday, listening to a hell of an axeman wail out the blues.

Truth is, I like the place, I like the clientele. I’ve been a customer here for, oh, about a couple of months, maybe less. Grateful client laid me out with a six month tab and an introduction into the finer things of life, the Whiskey Society among them. And Johnny, regular barman there, makes a mean cup of coffee for the designated drivers. Thick enough to stand a fork in, sweet as licking the devil’s hind tit, dollop of cream on top to smooth things out. Served in these tiny little cups he gets from the mosque in Culver City.

All told, the atmosphere’s nice, the people are good and I’ve got nothing to do for a couple of hours until I meet up with my partner. So, feeling good all around. Johnny’s regaling me with stories of his latest conquests. Green eyes. Rich brown hair like old oak. Body like a marathoner. Guy can have anyone he wants. Doesn’t hurt that he works for Cernunnos, the pub