By William Ritter
"Sherlock Holmes crossed with Buffy the Vampire Slayer." —Chicago Tribune
Newly arrived in New Fiddleham, New England, 1892, and wanting a role, Abigail Rook meets R. F. Jackaby, an investigator of the unexplained with a prepared eye for the extraordinary—including the facility to work out supernatural beings. Abigail has a present for noticing traditional yet very important information, which makes her excellent for the placement of Jackaby's assistant. On her first day, Abigail unearths herself in the middle of an exhilarating case: A serial killer is at the free. The police are confident it's a standard villain, yet Jackaby is bound the foul deeds are the paintings of the type of creature whose very lifestyles the neighborhood authorities—with the exception of a good-looking younger detective named Charlie Cane—seem adamant to deny.
"The wealthy international of this debut calls for sequels." —Kirkus studies, starred review
"We truthfully couldn't positioned it down." —Nerdist.com
"Toss jointly another 19th-century New England urban, a robust culture of Sherlockian pastiche, and one heavily gruesome hat, and this lighthearted and warranted debut emerges, all motion and quirk." —Publishers Weekly
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Additional resources for Jackaby (Jackaby, Book 1)
I agree to visit Tanrose's mother tomorrow. Tanrose hurries off downstairs, to cook. As she leaves, Makri walks into my office. " Makri frowns. " "Well that's unfortunate. Thraxas the Investigator does not reveal details of private consultations with his clients. " Chapter Five I'm sitting in front of the fire, musing on Tanrose's tale. There's probably nothing in it other than the confused ramblings of an old woman, but I'm willing to check it out. For one thing, I like Tanrose, and for another I'm greatly in need of money.
As I inhale, the world, already not looking so bad, improves considerably. There are some strange noises outside my inner door, the one that leads down to the bar. Normally I'd be annoyed at such an early interruption to my day but I wander over genially and drag the door open. Out in the corridor I find Palax and Kaby, two young street musicians. There was a time when I'd have been displeased to see them because the young couple are not what you'd call your standard citizens of Turai. They affect the strangest clothes and hairstyles and have facial piercings never seen before in the city, and they live in a caravan which they park behind the tavern.
Can't get over the time I punched him in the face. Probably he's been looking for revenge ever since. And now he thinks he can humiliate me at the card table. Poor sap. " Makri is doubtful. " "That's because you don't appreciate how much he dislikes me. " "You've done that to most people in the city," says Makri. "That's true. " We walk on towards Quintessence Street. " asks Makri. I admit I don't. The most I can raise is about forty. Which might be a problem. " I ask. "Of course I don't," says Makri.