Death & the City Book Two

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Authors: Lisa Scullard

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Death the City Book Two
Tales of the Deathrunners [1]
Lisa Scullard
(2011)

Following on directly from Book One, ‘Death And The City: Book Two’ continues the ongoing bloody, moral, psychological and fashion dilemmas of professional hit-man’s nemesis and single working female Lara Leatherstone (her Porn Star Name Generator alias of choice), as she catches up with paid contract killers on the To Do List.

Which she fits in between the sometimes mundane requirements of her regular nightclub job, and the irrational fear of dating, all under constant self-scrutiny for ulterior motives.

It’s been a while since the last Firearms Amnesty, meaning the collection scavenged from her targets is taking up more room in her kitchen cupboards than there is left for teabags. And threats of new technology mean that upgrades are now necessary all of the time - and not the kind she wants to park in her driveway or answer her mobile phone to any time soon.

In the meantime, her targets and associates seem to have a lot of time on their hands for alternative escapist lifestyles and online fantasy worlds, blissfully unaware of as crossing over into her own quite real one.

And her new wingman, Connor, has another agenda of his own. Rather than the one she’s concerned about, which is that head office are trying to gain more blackmail leverage. When they're not trying to get her to recruit more ‘Deathrunners’ or to send them photographs of herself dressed as Catwoman trying on shoes, neither of which she is keen to do, for various reasons.

Death The City, released in two parts as Books One and Two, comprises the first instalment in the Tales Of The Deathrunners series.

DEATH & THE CITY

Book Two

of

TALES OF THE DEATHRUNNERS

L. Scullard

Death & The City: Book Two

(Tales Of The Deathrunners)

© Lisa Scullard 2008

Category: FICTION/GENERAL. Any similarity to real persons or events is coincidental.

All rights reserved.

Cover design and artwork © Lisa Scullard

The moral right of the author/artist has been asserted.

Also by the author:

LIVING HELL

TALES OF THE DEATHRUNNERS series:

DEATH & THE CITY: Book One

THE ZOMBIE CHRONICLES OF OZ:

THE TERRIBLE ZOMBIE OF OZ (with L. Frank Baum)

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to thank Laura & Lana of the HarperCollins 'authonomy' team, for running their network site on which to gain so much insight and feedback, and for their live workshops in London. Also, thanks to Crime Fiction agent Camilla Wray, of the Darley Anderson Literary Agency, and film producer Sophie Neville, for sharing their insights.

In the same theme, I'd also like to thank Portsmouth Book Festival 2010 for running the speaker's Q&A event, Crime And The City: CSI Portsmouth, and the opportunity to talk to the genre authors (Graham Hurley and Simon Brett), and the professional experts in person – much appreciated.

I would again like to thank all the other upcoming writers that I've got to know so far, for their intellect, wit and creative support - including (alphabetically) Shalini Boland, Peter S. Brooks, Elspeth Cooper, Dan Holloway, Gerald D. Johnston, Penny Legg, Adam Sifre, and Keith A. Smith, who have made a lot of sense (and nonsense!) during my inspirational delve into literary fiction. There's so many more to name that I'll need to write a few more of these books… Academic author-photo cardigans at the ready!

On another note, a BIG thanks to all my old SIA colleagues. I wouldn't be here without you, and some of you wouldn't be here without me ;)


And my real-life family, and friends, for sharing their love, patience, and sense of humour.

Especially Caitlin.

BIOGRAPHY

L. Scullard spends her time when not writing, either working, parenting and commuting, or on trying to keep up with the gardening and housework. Occasionally things like reading, self-publishing, listening to music, artwork, knitting hoodies, customising shoes, reviewing other people's creative genius, and re-designing one-of-a-kind fashion dolls get in the way of this mundane routine.

She does not sing, ballroom dance or ice-skate, and has no plans to attempt cookery on the television. No matter how well you balance it, the wok keeps slipping off the top of the plasma screen.

For even less intimate information:

voodoo-spice.blogspot.com

www.screenkiss.co.uk

lisascullard.wordpress.com

CONTENTS

CHAPTER 21:
The Dark Dimensions

CHAPTER 22:
Vanilla Blackmail

CHAPTER 23:
Karmachanic

CHAPTER 24:
Undercarriage Of Events

CHAPTER 25:
Under The Influence

CHAPTER 26:
The Hollywood Method

CHAPTER 27:
A Plot Full Of Holes

CHAPTER 28:
Heat Seeking Wolf

CHAPTER 29:
Alice Is Wonderland

CHAPTER 30:
Dressing To Kill

CHAPTER 31:
A Rice By Any Other Name

CHAPTER 32:
Spanish Fly On The Wall

CHAPTER 33:
Early Christmas

CHAPTER 34:
The Mogwai Diet

CHAPTER 35:
Fish Out Of Water

CHAPTER 36:
Encounters Of The Nth Kind

CHAPTER 37:
Invisible Man Syndrome

CHAPTER 38:
Quality Time

CHAPTER 39:
Capital City Of Moonlighters

CHAPTER 40:
Short Notice Cases

From where we left off, in Book One…

Chapter 21:
The Dark Dimensions

"I am so having one of those," Martha the pixie witchy Goth announces, as we perch on the Perspex and leather-cushioned bar-stools, in the very swanky Green Room restaurant.

We're downstairs in the Allegra Sands Hotel, between reception and the spa, watching the barman mix up Midday Margaritas. N.E.R.D.'s
Don't Worry About It
plays on the surround speaker system, and the atmosphere is one of relaxed affluence.

"The cocktail, or the barman?" Elaine asks.

"Oh, I would, but he's so gay," Martha shrugs. "Check out those sideburn tramlines. And fake tan. Even from behind I know he thinks he's the next Iglesias, only gay. No, I want a Cranberry Margarita. Or two. And then get de-toxed in the spa. How about you?"

"I like your style," Elaine enthuses. "That's nearly a Rude Cosmopolitan, isn't it? I want a Chocotini. Or a Gingertini. One of each. How about you, Lara?"

"I'm on Superflu," I reveal, with suitable regret. "It'll have to be a Virgin On The Beach for me."

Elaine groans, and Martha rubs my back in sympathy, but they both know me well enough to understand when I'm not drinking, it means just that. Martha winks, and I guess from her expression that she's indicating Elaine didn't drive here on purpose. She wants to enjoy a day off from club management, getting wasted and eyeing up hotel staff.

"I can mix you up something more interesting," the barman suggests. "You have to taste it before you ask what's in it. Good if you're under the weather as well."

It's sort of murky green in a half-pint hourglass cocktail flute with ice, but actually tastes rather nice. I let the girls take a sip. Martha likes it, especially the colour. Elaine gives it her professional approval.

"What's in it?" I ask.

"Orange juice, passion fruit juice, cola and Red Akuma," he says, with a wink. "Vitamin C for your cold, and caffeine to perk you up."

"Have you got a name for it?" asks Elaine. "I've been trying to think of some Virgin cocktails, for if we do another University Christian Society ball."

"How about 'Passion Devil'?" says Martha.

"You'll find Christians shagging in the toilets if you call it that," I chuckle.

"I was just calling it a Green Day," the barman remarks. "Green Room - kind of green colour - can drink it during the day - plus I like the band. And it's quite good for hangovers too."

"Hmmm." Elaine leans over to have another taste from my spare straw. "Don't think I want Christians going all heavy metal, moshing in the club. Maybe, hmmm…"

"Call it a Green Angel," Martha and I suggest simultaneously.

"Perfect." Elaine nods, typing a note to herself into her phone. "Hope you don't mind?"

"Good by me," the barman grins. "I got the idea off a mate at Shotz anyway."

Martha gets her two Cranberry Margaritas, and Elaine her Chocotini and Gingertini. While we all salute each other's company with 'Cheers' I feel as though I've heard the name 'Green Angel' before, and wonder what it reminds me of. I have a momentary impression of being detached from my body, not quite in the room or in the conversation, but it passes quickly.

"Do you see many celebrities in here?" Elaine asks sociably, still determining in her own way if the barman is likely to be gay or not.

"A lot of footballer's wives mostly," he grins. "Especially just before home games."

"Yeah, I bet," Martha agrees. "Expecting a big flashy turn-out from the competition. And I don't mean the other team players."

I use their conversation to scan the Green Room myself, thoughtfully. A few businessmen of varying ages in either suits or gym clothes, enjoying a lunchtime beer or coffee. Two women who look like mother and daughter, maybe out on a birthday treat.

A Japanese couple - no, make that a man and a woman travelling together - he's on the phone, and she's industriously working on a laptop. Looks like she's his P.A, or secretary. He's speaking French on the phone, but when he hangs up talks to her in Japanese. She nods. He approaches the bar right next to me, and orders another pot of Earl Grey tea in English, with a businesslike, confident London accent. The barmaid says she'll bring it to their table and asks if it's to pay or on their hotel bill, and he gives her his room card to scan. He gives me a little nod and smile before returning to his corner, and I just notice the peek of a tattoo above his shirt collar as he walks away. I wonder if it's all over, Yakuza-style.

I gradually return my attention to Elaine and Martha catching up, and by the general tone and inflections, I've luckily just missed Elaine dropping a whopping hint to Martha about wanting her husband back, and if there was a magic wand that could be waved to do it. Martha is trying to introduce her to the concept of free will being a good and healthy thing.

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