Today, we feature a sneak peek of the contemporary paranormal fantasy novel by Nicholas Forristal, Chronicles of M.
Samuel is a retired agent to the stars. During a bank deposit, a heist goes sideways, resulting in him saving the day. Due to Samuel’s actions, a mysterious man offers him an opportunity – join an ex-governmental agency who’s tasked with handling an unconventional and unpredictable man named “M” as he battles the paranormal. Will he join for the adventure of his life, or will he continue his retirement?
Chronicles of M is available through Amazon.com and all Amazon channels.
Here is an excerpt from Chronicles of M:
The house we arrive at has to be the most absurd places I have ever seen. It’s on an ordinary residential block, surrounded by ordinary suburbanite houses, on the most generic street name I have ever heard. Street Road. Surrounded by all this mundane, boring scenery is this one story, bright pink house with white trim and a small deck in the front yard. The well taken care of yard is covered in flamingos, yard gnomes, and just about every other old lady gimmick you can think of, all of which are aged from the sun. I can’t decide which is my favorite part of the yard. It’s either the four foot tall stone rabbit eating a carrot at the end of the driveway, or the sloppily hand painted yard gnomes having a tea party in the middle of the yard. The white garage door has a gigantic mural on it depicting snow capped mountains with evergreen trees scattered everywhere and a little barn in the foreground. It reminds me of a Bob Ross painting.
“This house makes me want to vomit every time I see it.” M states as we walk up to the front door.
I stop halfway up the driveway. “Okay, wait. Before I take another step, I want to know what is going on here. I agreed I would follow along this far, but if you want me to go any further you’ll tell me exactly what you two do?”
Thomas turns to look at me, thinks for a moment and says, “we’re part of a government agency that deals with situations that no one else can.” He waves me forward. “Come on.”
“An agency that works out of that?” I point at the house. “Doing what, landscaping for the elderly?”
“Not exactly,” Thomas shakes his head and smiles. “The house is just a cover, we actually work in the basement. We just wanted it to appear as though some crazy old lady lived here so that we don’t have unexpected guests.”
“Wide open for a $#@&^ attack,” M grumbles, “idiotic secret hideout.”
Thomas looks at me and rolls his eyes, and opens the front door and I walk up on to the deck and into the house. I must be out of my mind going along with this. I don’t know what is compelling me to continue, but I do.
The inside of the house is very much like the outside of the house: hideous beyond understanding. The front door comes into the middle of this open, rectangular room, giving it a split room feel. To the left is a TV area, to the right is some sort of sitting area. The walls are the same bright pink that the outside is, as though the painters thought “hey, we have some left over, let’s use it.”
