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    Remnant: a story by Jordan L Hawk & KJ Charles
    Remnant: a story by Jordan L Hawk & KJ Charles
    Remnant: a story by Jordan L Hawk & KJ Charles
    Ebook75 pages46 minutes

    Remnant: a story by Jordan L Hawk & KJ Charles

    By KJ Charles

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    London, 1899. The beautiful people are dying...

    A malevolent power is attacking London’s bright young things, and the only clue to what's happening is written in ancient Egyptian script. As ghost-hunter Simon Feximal and his companion Robert Caldwell investigate the mysterious deaths, the arrival in London of a notorious scholar-sorcerer seems to hold the answer to more than one of their problems.

    A quiet break in London while en route to Egypt turns dramatic for Dr Percival Endicott Whyborne and his lover Griffin Flaherty when they encounter the hostile ghost-hunter. Feximal clearly suspects the worst of Whyborne – and his flirtatious sidekick seems to think a great deal too well of Griffin...

    Jordan L Hawk’s heroes Whyborne and Griffin meet KJ Charles’ occult detectives from the Secret Casebook of Simon Feximal in a mystery that takes all four lovers through the decadent underworld of Victorian London in pursuit of an ancient and deadly evil.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKJ Charles
    Release dateMar 11, 2014
    ISBN9781311391353
    Remnant: a story by Jordan L Hawk & KJ Charles
    Author

    KJ Charles

    KJ Charles is a writer and editor. She lives in London with her husband, two kids, a garden with quite enough prickly things, and a cat with murder management issues. Find her on Twitter @kj_charles for daily timewasting and the odd rant, or in her Facebook group, KJ Charles Chat, for sneak peeks and special extras.

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    Reviews for Remnant

    4.5/5

    21 ratings2 reviews

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    • 4/5
      Let me be clear: the rating is for Jordan L. Hawk's part of the story, for Whyborne and Griffin.

      Whyborne and Caldwell tell a story through alternate chapters. I loved Whyborne's.

      This: 'Feximal clearly suspects the worst of Whyborne – and his flirtatious sidekick seems to think a great deal too well of Griffin...' completely ruined a perfectly good paranormal story. I think there should be some kind of test to determine who can write blurbs. There are dead bodies without eyes, tongues, genitals and such, but I spent half of the story dreading the part when an established couple would have to deal with crap like a third person. I thought we left that crap in Threshold. This is one of my most hated tropes, but fortunately it had only a teasing character here. Or at least, I am assuming it was supposed to be humorous or something. It was not.

      While Whyborne and Griffin kept their chemistry intact even with mild annoyances such as the flirty Caldwell, Feximal and Caldwell didn't. They were just there to be obnoxious in Feximal's case and annoying in Caldwell's. Bear in mind, this is the trope I hate the most, so I may be biased. It is possible that other people would enjoy this more than I did.

      Now I can move to Necropolis and I hope that another suggested visit to London won't happen. I am not eager to read about these four together again.
      I love these authors (Whyborne and Griffin, and A Charm of Magpies are wonderful series).

      Now that I am done with it and can move on to the next Whyborne and Griffin's adventure, I can say it is a good story. Read it.
    • 5/5
      Delightful crossover story from two great authors. The curmudgeon Simon Feximal of London meets the clumsy Dr. Whyborne from America to solve a series of murders involving an ancient Egyptian language.

    Book preview

    Remnant - KJ Charles

    Remnant

    A Whyborne & Griffin / Secret Casebook of Simon Feximal story

    KJ Charles

    Jordan L Hawk

    Published by KJ Charles and Jordan L Hawk at Smashwords

    Copyright 2013 KJ Charles and Jordan L Hawk

    Cover design by Susan Lee

    Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com. Thank you for your support.

    Author’s Note

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    About the Authors

    Authors’ Note

    This story features characters from the Whyborne & Griffin series by Jordan L Hawk and the Secret Casebook of Simon Feximal series by KJ Charles. It takes place four months after the events of Stormhaven and five years after the events of Butterflies.

    In line with the existing series, Percival Endicott Whyborne writes in American English, and Robert Caldwell writes in British English.

    Chapter One

    London, January 1899

    Robert Caldwell’s Account

    He should have been a beautiful corpse.

    The landlady’s words, voiced with quiet, bewildered horror, had followed us up the stairs of the pleasant rooming house. They had seemed the most meaningless reaction imaginable to a man’s death. Now, in the parlour where we stood, they made entire sense.

    It was a delightful room, of its type, and its type was very clear indeed. Comfortable to the point of luxury, adorned with rich Turkish rugs and a divan draped with furs, it reeked of some exotic scent. Dozens of portraits and sketches covered the walls, interrupted only by gilt-framed mirrors, and all the images showed the same features: a lovely youth, becoming a beautiful man. A pencil sketch of outstanding quality hung in pride of place above the mantelpiece. It showed the young man, eyes heavy-lidded and inviting, with a yielding look to his just-open mouth, and the artist’s desire for his subject rolled off the caressing lines.

    It was a face made to be loved, worshipped even. It had certainly been the object of its owner’s adoration.

    No more.

    The body, naked and twisted, lay sprawled on a white rug. Red holes gaped shockingly in his skull where the smoky eyes had once been. Their vitreous matter glistened, still wet, on his distorted face. The slim fingers that had doubtless been petted and stroked were gnarled and withered twigs. His manhood was swollen, not in the way of desire, but as with a dropsy, a gigantic and grotesque inflation that had turned shaft and scrotum a deep shade of purple, uncomfortable even to look upon. A deep bruise had begun to blossom on the left side of his chest.

    Hands, eyes, genitals, heart, Simon Feximal said, kneeling by the tormented body. And… He inserted the end of a pen cautiously into the mouth that stretched in a silent scream, and flipped up a little withered leathery nub. And tongue.

    I made a face. Again.

    This was the second corpse, the third victim. Last week we had seen a society lady distorted into a hideous parody of womanhood, her belly distended into an empty bulge, breasts withered as the dugs of a crone. A few days before that, we had stood in the Bethnal Green Asylum listening to the cawing of an eyeless, tongueless, mindless youth who had not had the good fortune to die. Now this. And we, Simon Feximal and I, had no idea what was happening, nor how to make it stop.

    Simon rose from his crouch, face remote and grim. There are no marks of anything on the body, beyond the damage done. Let us see if there are any answers to be had. The door, please, Robert.

    I fastened the bolt, while Simon positioned himself in front of one of the mirrors, tilting it to reflect downward, and stripped off his old-fashioned frock coat. I took it in silence, and his neckcloth and waistcoat, piling them on a gilt chair. He unbuttoned his shirt, but did not pull it open yet.

    Are you willing?

    You need not ask, I told him, and dropped to my knees.

    What with one thing and another, I had spent much of the last five years kneeling in front of Simon, and generally it was a position I greatly relished. But not like this.

    Long ago, in days of which he rarely spoke, Simon had permitted his body to be inscribed with occult runes, which, observed in a mirror, told

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