Book Excerpt: Sherlock Holmes & the Singular Affair by M. K. Wiseman

I am pleased to be welcoming M. K. Wiseman to Novel Kicks. She’s here with the book birthday blitz for her book, Sherlock Holmes & the Singular Affair.

Before Baker Street, there was Montague.

Before partnership with a former army doctor recently returned from Afghanistan, Sherlock Holmes had but the quiet company of his own great intellect. Solitary he might be but, living as he did for the thrill of the chase, it was enough.

For a little while, at the least, it was enough. 

That is, until a client arrives at his door with a desperate plea and an invitation into a world of societal scandal and stage door dandies. Thrust deep in an all-consuming role and charged with the safe-keeping of another, Holmes must own to his limits or risk danger to others besides himself in this the case of the aluminium crutch. 

M.K. Wiseman has shared an extract from Sherlock Holmes & the Singular Affair with us today. Enjoy! 

*****beginning of extract*****

Having undertaken Miss Eudora Frances Clarke’s missing man case, Sherlock Holmes does a bit of research and formulates a disguise by which he will get close to the man in question.

Chapter 6:

An overcast late-afternoon sky witnessed me leaving my rooms. Quick strides took me around the corner and up the steps of the Museum. Though the esteemed institution had never availed itself of my services—that great case was, yet, in my future—there were several present amongst the warders who knew me by sight and reputation. Thus, though in fact I carried within my pocket my pass for admission, mine was a face which could pass unchallenged when gaining entrance into that great house of culture.

Divested of coat and cane, I hunted about the large, domed room for a seat—not an easy task at such a late hour—and then took myself to the perimeter to select the materials by which I might fill my time and satisfy my brain. Not all of my aims were satiated by easy and accessible reference, however, and I was forced to make a request from one of the attendants. Passing him my form, I returned to my seat and amused myself by discerning various details of my fellow bookworms while pretending to read.

The usual crowd was present. Dour academics, lean and hungry from their having arrived at the Room’s opening and abstained from a midday meal so as not to lose custody of their favourite desk, ho-hummed over the great questions of humanity. Scrupulous gentlemen made careful comparison of books in the collection with meticulously compiled purchase lists. Young women, bright and bold, flitted about fetching their own books from the room’s grand perimeter to return to a sweetheart’s side and whisper their fierce excitement. Everywhere the sigh of turning pages and the gentle scratch of steel pens from people copying, tracing, translating, this punctuated by the ever-present motion of attendants’ carts weaving between the rows of desks. I thought of Mr. Panizzi, the Keeper of Printed Books and Principal Librarian, and his request for a large, domed Reading Room some thirty years past. Though the dome’s architect was said to have drawn inspiration from Rome’s Pantheon, I believed a comparison to an ancient straw skep all the more fitting, considering the busy bees at work inside.

I confess to some small impatience as the materials of my hunt were brought to me at the reading room attendant’s leisure rather than my own. I caught myself rapping my fingers on my desk before anyone else had cause to note it, and thus the library’s other occupants were saved from a percussive recreation of Ries’ fingering on a Paganini Caprice which I had enjoyed at St. James’s but a couple months prior.

At length, one of the attendants’ carts rolled to a stop by my elbow, and I gave an obliging tug on the leathern handle of my desk so as to make the reading table available. By this time I had engrossed myself in one of the reference books I had secured, Denman’s 1875 edition of The Vine and its Fruit, and so did not spare more than half a glance as the requested materials were left for my use.

Leaving off my rapid scholarship of all things related to the wine trade, I turned my attention to the sources wherein I might affirm the underlying facts of Clarke’s story and better establish the parentage for my own false identity.

In so far as I could tell, Miss Clarke’s claims were consistent with official record. Confirmed in the service of the 102nd were both Colonel August Clarke and Lieutenant Colonel Henry Price. The latter? Mauled to death by a tiger in 1855. This left a handy loophole into which Mr. Ormond Secker’s father could insert himself.

Now all I needed was an introduction.

And a perfecting of my disguise.

As clients were apt to come calling upon me for any reason and at any time—I had come to expect that the further afield the problem, the more exotic the hour—I could not afford untidiness in my abode. That said, things were becoming such that to stretch my limbs properly was to upset the teakettle and half of a chemistry setup. Take, for example, my indexes, already alluded to as having overrun their cupboards. Add to that my desk with its semi-permanently congested pigeonholes and the various furniture required for the proper hosting of said clients and the living of a modest life in a modern city. Simply put, my profession was outgrowing its offices.

My bedroom with its overstuffed wardrobe containing any number of costume pieces, wigs, and other similar accoutrements might have been confused for an actor’s save for the fact that it was also papered over with the many maps and other ephemera of my work that I had tacked up for convenience. I had care enough to keep that door regularly closed but as a human male of twenty-six living alone? Further self-discipline would be Herculean and, to my mind, a waste of energy.

It was within this inner sanctum that I now secluded myself. Mr. Sherlock Holmes went in. Mr. Ormond Secker was to emerge some time later.

*****end of extract****

About M. K. Wiseman: 

M. K. Wiseman has degrees in Interarts & Technology and Library & Information Studies from the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Her office, therefore, is a curious mix of storyboards and reference materials. Both help immensely in the writing of historical novels. She currently resides in Cedarburg, Wisconsin.

Say hello to M. K. Wiseman via her website, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram and Goodreads. 

Click to purchase Sherlock Holmes & the Singular Affair on Amazon UK, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, and Apple Books.

*****

Do you want to win a M.K. Wiseman Sherlock Holmes Book Bundle? 

There are two M.K Wiseman Sherlock Holmes Book Bundles up for grabs.

The prize includes a Signed and ‘annotated’ with a few margin notes copies of Sherlock Holmes & the Singular Affair  & Sherlock Holmes & the Ripper of Whitechapel and Nifty ‘magnifying glass’ bookmark.

It’s open to people in the UK, US and Canada.

To enter, click here.

*Terms and Conditions: 

UK / US & Canada entries welcome. 

Please enter using the Rafflecopter link above. 

The winner will be selected at random via Rafflecopter from all valid entries and will be notified by Twitter and/or email.

If no response is received within 7 days then Rachel’s Random Resources reserves the right to select an alternative winner.

Open to all entrants aged 18 or over. 

Any personal data given as part of the competition entry is used for this purpose only and will not be shared with third parties, with the exception of the winners’ information.

This will passed to the giveaway organiser and used only for fulfilment of the prize, after which time Rachel’s Random Resources will delete the data.  

I am not responsible for despatch or delivery of the prize.

by

Laura

I’m Laura. I started Novel Kicks in 2009. I wanted a place to post my writing as well as give other writers like me the opportunity to do the same. There is also a monthly book club, a writing room which features writing prompts, book reviews, competitions, author interviews and guest posts.

I grew up by the sea (my favourite place in the world) and I currently live in Hampshire. I am married to Chris, have a cat named Buddy and I would love to be a writer. I’m trying to write the novel I’ve talked so much about writing if only I could stop pressing delete. I’ve loved writing since creative writing classes in primary school. I have always wanted to see my teacher Miss Sayers again and thank her for the encouragement. When not trying to write the novel or writing snippets of stories on anything I can get my hands on, I love reading, dancing like a loon and singing to myself very badly. My current obsession is Once Upon a Time and I would be happy to live with magic in the enchanted forest surrounded by all those wonderful stories provided that world also included Harry Potter. I love reading chick lit. contemporary fiction and novels with mystery.