The Wiles of Decay (Part One)

By J Fine

The Wiles of Decay features amongst other things: murder, death, strange people, at least one cat and supernatural forces. When Mr Frederick Maxmorran is poisoned an investigation is set in motion, leading into a world full of very objectionable people.
This is the first part, the second is also available for free, but there's no guarantee that this will be ever completed. (Many good reviews may encourage me...)

• Language: English
• Publisher: J Fine
• Release date: May 20, 2014

J Fine

Born in London and living in Manchester . Visit blog for more stories etc. Always appreciates feedback.

Book preview

Part one of the serialised version of

The Wiles of Decay,

The first book of the ‘Holiday from Reason’ series.

Smashwords edition © 2014 J Fine

ONE

Torn hangings dangling from the roof, twisted around tall marble columns that rose up to support the huge vaulted ceiling. Tables scattered around walls damp with condensation; dusty velvet clothes thrown across them and tarnished silver set down upon them. The first of the guests arrive; a stately woman in the party of Helios, flame-coloured dress embellished with limp rays of material as if the sun could catch a cold; clutched in her hand a small child as Mercury, feathers bedraggled and forlorn. They are greeted by a musty footman, all damp and saggy-clad. It is the Emuschion-Ball, and all must come to pay it tribute 

Cats are generally not desired, but one is loping around the ballroom with a languid interest in the scattered chairs that cluster in strange groups around its edges, and a man dressed as the king of the felines saunters around with shaggy beard complimenting synthetic mane. The costume itself is shabby-threadbare, the forlornness of the tails tassel only emphasised by the shine nearby. His friend, single-horn craftily strapped to head and white-velvet costume only mildly stained is the next to enter, greats the musty footman before that official can do the same by him, and generally goes around attempting to be agreeable. This was most disagreeable to the others, and it only stopped when the man dressed as the haunted drunkard entered the room.

His eyes bulged, red-shot and swollen, his drink-besmirched attire ruffled as it had been in the more practical scuffle, not the  genteel ‘incident’ so beloved of the  pretentious lower upper-class.