The Doppelganger: A Burtonshire Novella (The Isle of Burtonshire Saga Book 2)

By R.M. Carpus

Please note: This is Mason's story and is meant to be read after THE CITY WIFE. It contains series spoilers and is not intended to be read as a stand-alone. Includes a special sneak peek of Book 3 of the series.

A mistaken identity. A stroke of luck. The chance of a lifetime.

"Get on that train and don't look back." That was one of the last things the man said to me before he disappeared. Some dude named Ray. Whoever he was, he saved my life. Thanks to him, I escaped Boston and now I'm in paradise, livin' out on this rock somewhere off the coast of the Pacific Northwest, a place they call the Isle of Burtonshire.

Island life suits me just fine. Fresh air, fresh food, and no more late nights cookin' on the line. She's here with me, and that's the biggest perk. The only thing is, if she ever left, she'd take my heart right along with her, and then this wouldn't be paradise anymore.

The saga continues! Discover Mason's journey to the Isle.

What They're Saying About THE CITY WIFE:

"Lush and evocative. I reread sentences out loud just to hear the words." — @Arizonabookstagrammer

"Started off slow and then chaos hit and I couldn’t put the book down." — Cheyenne, Goodreads Reviewer

★ A Top 100 Disaster Fiction Best Seller ★

★★★★★ “Riveting. Words that paint moving pictures. Ominous . . . dramatic and yet subtle. Perfectly executed.” — Mary-Lisa, Goodreads Reviewer

★★★★★ “I couldn’t turn the pages fast enough as I raced to the end . . . The suspense kept me hanging on and the twists made it impossible for me to lay it down.” — The Avid Reader Book Blog

★★★★★ “Great premise and the perfect start to the Isle of Burtonshire series.” — Kat M., Goodreads Reviewer

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.M. Carpus
• Release date: Nov 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9798986567921

R.M. Carpus

Thanks for stopping by! Here are some other ways to connect:• Sign up for R. M.'s Mailing List → https://www.rmcarpus.com• Join the Advance Reader Team → https://bit.ly/3zjS2q4• Follow on BookBub → https://bit.ly/32bnUSM• Follow on Amazon → https://amzn.to/3GesA9c• Follow on Goodreads → https://bit.ly/3mquICu• Chat on Instagram & Twitter → @rmcarpusR. M. Carpus is the author of the sci-fi family saga, THE ISLE OF BURTONSHIRE series, and co-founder of Impossible Things Publishing. A nomadic spirit, she’s lived all over the U.S. and currently resides in Philadelphia, where she attends St. Joseph’s University. She grew up in the South and feels right at home on a porch with a glass of sweet tea and a plate of fried green tomatoes, though her heart belongs to the moody Pacific Northwest, where she once lived and loved in a cozy cottage in the woods. When she’s not writing, she’s watching classic movies, planning road trips, or cuddling up with her animals and a book. She loves Jesus, the ocean, British humor, and retro everything. You can visit her online and receive a FREE starter story at www.rmcarpus.com.

Book preview

The Doppelganger

The Doppelganger

A Burtonshire Novella

R. M. Carpus

R. M. Carpus

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Contents

Before

After

The Uninvited

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Copyright © 2022 R. M. Carpus

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

For permissions: [e-mail]

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents

either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Edited by Word Witch Copy Consulting LLC

Before

Iremembered it as if it’d happened five minutes ago, because you just don’t forget these kinds of things. How could you? When a meteor-sized life change comes hurtling toward you at warped speed, then leaves a crater in the existence you once called life , there’s no muting or erasing that happy little incident.

Chuck? the guy had hollered at me. Chuck Douglas Harvey? His voice echoed against the rail’s mechanical hum as the train whizzed past. I’d heard him, felt him nearby but hadn’t seen him. I was too busy scrolling on my phone, taking in the barrage of reports on the latest quakes throughout New England, ready to get out of South Station and back to my apartment. The newly coined term The Turn jumped from every headline. South Station buzzed. Scrunched-up brows and frown lines decked commuters’ faces. If the world was ending, I needed to get home and feed my fish. I’d screwed a lot of things up. Bills. Relationships. Jobs. Clothes––like the suit I had on that morning, too loose and too long. The last size on the rack and all I could afford. Worn for an interview for some job way out of my league but worth showin’ up for if it meant the chance to get rid of the one I was due at by 11 am that day. Eddie and Ella, a.k.a. Vedder and Fitzgerald, my lil’ fish troopers, survived it all while I made a mess of things: disconnected electricity, tragic break-ups, crap job after crap job. No way could I let ’em down now.

Blake Harvey’s son, well I’ll be damned! The guy’s voice was inescapable, catching my shoulder like a snag in my suit thread.

Sorry, man, I finally said, looking up from my phone. You got the wrong guy. I tried beelining it for the exit, but this dude was on a mission.

Chuck, Charles Douglas Harvey. He tapped my shoulder, limping as he hobbled in front of me, blocking my path. Bro was jacked up, like he got into a fight with a bag of angry porcupines. "Aw, come on, now. I’d know you anywhere! I know it’s been years, but boy, do you have your daddy’s face. You always were Harvey’s pride and joy, let me tell you. How’s Wickham Prep treating you? Your daddy was so proud of you when you got that job, let me tell you . . . he raved about it for months, drove the whole office crazy! My son got the position at Wickham, he’d go on and on . . ."

Sorry, you are . . . ?

Ray. Ray Henderson, used to work in the accounting department with your pop. I resigned, and we lost touch. Shame. Look, I don’t mean to hold you up, but I have this ticket. He winced and dug some kind of laminated badge from his pocket, glancing furtively around us. I know this sounds nuts, coming from me. I know you probably don’t even remember me, but look, I was supposed to take this train that leaves in thirty minutes for this really important trip. It’s a safe haven, son. An island out in the Pacific Northwest called Burtonshire. Long story short, it’ll save your life if you let it, get you far away from all this mess. If I sign my name on the Forfeiture Line of this pass and you tell ’em I sent you, Essex Alliance District 737, the ticket’s all yours.

Ray, I don’t mean to be rude, man, but I really have no idea what you’re talkin’––

"I’m busted up real good, as you can see. Got trampled outside on the corner on my way into the station. News of this Turn business opened up a real can of crazy, didn’t it? He soared right over my words, shaky hands offering me the lanyard badge. One look at his flustered, distracted gaze, and it was clear he couldn’t hear me. Not at all. Fear and adrenaline were callin’ the shots. See, I have a daughter, Cindy. Not sure if you remember. But she’s the only daughter I’ve got, and well, Chuck, truth is I’ve been a lousy dad, from start to finish. We lost touch over the years; can’t say I blame her. She’s out near Chicago these days. Anyway, I just got in touch with her about ten minutes ago. First phone call in three years. She was scared. So damn scared. Ray’s cheeks tightened and he winced again, glasses fogging up as his eyes watered. Broke my heart. Killed me to hear her alone and scared, with a kid. I have a granddaughter. Didn’t even know, can you believe it? So look, I can’t run. Spent my whole adult life running from the mess I made. It’s time for me to be a father. I gotta go to Chicago, help her through this if I can. If I take this train and run off to this island to save my own ass, it’ll haunt me for the rest of my days, if I have any good ones left. I know it; I just know it. Musta been fate, son! I’m tellin’ ya, I just sat on that bench down there,––he nudged his chin somewhere past my shoulder––trying to decide between the Northwest and Chicago, and there you were. It’d be a damn shame for this kind of opportunity to go to waste. Sure would make me feel good to give it to someone who could use it, someone I know could make a real difference out on that island. They need mentors, teachers, strong young lads like you. Why, they’d be lucky to have you, Chuck."

I tugged at my tie, sweating and freezing at the same time, wishing I’d worn a heavier coat. An island? Out west?

Up near Canada. Not the tropical kind, obviously. But the summers are gorgeous, son. Can’t beat ’em. Best blackberries and cherries you’ll ever taste. I visited the region years ago. Heaven! Please. He shoved the lanyard against me, pressing firmly against my chest. Take it, son. Take it. I don’t know what you’ve got going on these days, I know it might seem impossible to take off like this, leave your life here behind, but . . . with the way things are headed, soon there won’t be anything left.

A throng of screams sounded from the station’s entrance. Startled, I pulled harder at my tie, dragging in a deep breath. Ray didn’t flinch. Looked like he was too tired, as if the slightest wind had the power to knock him over.

I don’t understand. I blinked. Blinked again. My hand hovered