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    Glampire
    Glampire
    Glampire
    Ebook38 pages29 minutes

    Glampire

    By Chris Dolley

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    About this ebook

    First Contact, Seventies Style! from New York Times bestselling author.

    A fun short story where murder isn’t the only mystery, and our detective’s clothes are far from plain. 1940s Noir detectives meet 1970s Glam.

    The story begins as a bizarre murder case in an unusual location, but nothing is as it seems. And the fate of an entire civilisation rests on a man with spiky red hair and six-inch platform shoes.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBook View Cafe
    Release dateMar 11, 2013
    ISBN9781611382495
    Glampire
    Author

    Chris Dolley

    Chris Dolley is a New York Times bestselling author, a pioneer computer game designer and a teenage freedom fighter. That was in 1974 when Chris was tasked with publicising Plymouth Rag Week. Some people might have arranged an interview with the local newspaper. Chris created the Free Cornish Army, invaded the country next door, and persuaded the UK media that Cornwall had risen up and declared independence. As he told journalists at the time, 'It was only a small country, and I did give it back.'In 1981, he created Randomberry Games and wrote Necromancer, one of the first 3D first person perspective D&D computer games.In 2004, his acclaimed novel, Resonance, was the first book plucked out of Baen's electronic slushpile.Now he lives in rural France with his wife and a frightening number of animals. They grow their own food and solve their own crimes. The latter out of necessity when Chris's identity was stolen along with their life savings. Abandoned by the police forces of four countries who all insisted the crime originated in someone else's jurisdiction, he had to solve the crime himself. Which he did, and got a book out of it - the International bestseller, French Fried: One Man's Move to France With Too Many Animals And An Identity Thief.He writes SF, Fantasy, Mystery, Humour and Memoir. His memoir, French Fried, is an NY Times bestseller. What Ho, Automaton! - the first of his Reeves and Worcester Steampunk Mysteries series - was a finalist for the 2012 WSFA Small Press Award.

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      Book preview

      Glampire - Chris Dolley

      GLAMPIRE

      Chris Dolley

      Copyright © 2000 by Chris Dolley

      All Rights Reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

      A Smashwords edition

      Published by Book View Café

      www.bookviewcafe.com

      Cover art © Gillian Standing

      Star and Nebula images credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech and Hubble Heritage Team (STScI / AURA), Y. Chu (UIUC) et al., NASA

      Cover design by Chris Dolley

      The cover design shows a representation of an alien (a Mirran) having his physical matrix re-engineered to look like a 70s rock star, so he'd be able to fit in better into 1973 England.

      This book is a work of fiction. All characters, locations, and events portrayed in this book are fictional or used in an imaginary manner to entertain.

      Acknowledgements

      Thank you to my editors: Jennifer Stevenson and Sherwood Smith.

      And, of course, The Seventies — a decade that knew how to dress.

      GLAMPIRE

      It was the 11th of Jimi, 1973. The Byrds were singing, the sky deep purple and doubt had just entered my trousers.

      Should I wear the lilac bellbottoms or the flameburst flares?

      I thought about it for a drum beat or two — tat-ta-tat, tat tat — miming the drum intro to Five Years. The Divine David at his holiest. Ziggy Stardust, track one.

      It felt like a lilac day so I zipped myself in, climbed onto my five-inch tan and beige platform shoes, scooped up my police badge from the dresser and clipped it to my extra-wide braided leather belt.

      With my chocolate and gold tie-dye shirt, a hint of foundation, a circle of glitter and spiky red hair, I was a dude dressed to detect. Major Thomas Starr, Chief of Police.

      The phone rang. It was Twig, the chief medical examiner.

      Tom, she said. About that body on Hendrix. It wasn’t suicide. It was murder.

      The words took some time to sink in. Murder? I’d never heard the word outside of a song title. Suicides we had in abundance. As the prophets preached: Who wanna stay alive ’til they’re thirty-five?

      But murder? Are you sure, Twig?

      Trust me, Tom, no one would choose this way to go.

      ~

      Ten minutes later I was cruising down Hendrix, striding out on the metal walkway, walking tall and exuding law enforcement. A few Heads looked my way, squinting through bleary eyes. Heads were like that — up all night, dead all day. All that heavy metal shit ain’t good for the brain. A few guitar

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