Excerpt:
Thomas Brock and Evelyn Love are attorneys who crusade for the rights of OTs—Other-Than-Humans. Their clients include ghosts, gargoyles, vampires, and things that have not yet been given names. The city’s OT element is sometimes malevolent, sometimes misunderstood, and often discriminated against. Brock and Love represent them, whatever the case, whatever the species. Magic hangs heavy in San Francisco, and danger and intrigue is as thick as the fog around the Golden Gate Bridge.
Love-Haight is a comedy, locked within a mystery, hidden in a horror story… Wonderfully clever, stylish, and ghoulish. Delightfully twisted fun! —William C. Dietz, New York Times bestselling creator of The Legion of the Damned
Making the freakiest burg in the nation ten times freakier is a considerable achievement. —Glen Cook, bestselling author of The Black Company series
Excerpt Onne
Your client is dead.”
“That does not preclude him from seeking joint custody of his two children, Your Honor.” Thomas Brock eased back from the table and prayed his nerves did not show. He’d tried cases in the Civic Center Courthouse before, but this was his first time in family court, and he’d never been before the Honorable Vernon Vaughan. The judge’s imposing bulldog like appearance unsettled him. “My client—Emanuel Holder—has lucrative employment, lives in a newly-purchased home in the city’s prestigious Sea Cliff neighborhood, and has committed no crime. Accordingly, he should be entitled to see his children. In fact, he considered seeking sole custody but decided this arrangement would be better for all concerned.”
“Your Honor, seriously?” The opposing counsel—Janet Wyndam-Smyth—pointed a manicured finger at Holder. She looked girded for war, dressed in a black suit with a pencil skirt that accentuated her thinness, bleached blond hair pulled back and slicked against the sides of her face. Her makeup was simple and severe, and her eyes were daggers aimed at the plaintiff.
Thomas glanced at his client. Holder’s expression showed a mix of hurt and surprise. It also showed that he was missing his lower lip and had a small hole in his left cheek. Death was not kind to the complexion. Holder was nearly as gray as the three-piece Armani suit he’d worn to the hearing, the maroon tie the only splash of color against a faintly pinstriped shirt. Brock had told him to dress well; he scolded himself for not dictating the colors.
“Seriously?” Wyndam-Smyth repeated. “Just look at him.”
Thomas had to admit that Holder was gaunt to the point of skeletal, the skin seeming painfully stretched over the bones of his face, revealing all the sharp angles and planes and hinting at a visage that once had been handsome. His wisps of fine hair resembled a cobweb, and black eyes that looked like wet marbles stared out from beneath his hooded brow.
“Yes, seriously,” Thomas pronounced, holding his shoulders back. “We are completely serious about this, Your Honor, Ms. Wyndam-Smyth.”
This was Thomas’s first child-custody case, and he liked the relatively informal atmosphere—no jury, no gallery of curious lookiloos, no reporters he needed to carefully posture in front of … just a discussion before a judge who had a reputation for being fair and fast. But Thomas hoped—knew—the media would eventually catch wind of this, and he looked forward to the attention that would do more good than harm for his fledgling practice, which was starting to specialize in OT law.
The “OTs,” as they were often called, tended to cluster in cities, and Thomas was well aware there were a good number of them in San Francisco, where some say true magic was born and laid heaviest in the land. OTs, or Other-Than-Humans, included creatures like his client. Holder was a ghoul, an undead creature normally associated with graveyards and considered a corpse-eater. The term OT had come from police reports and fallen into general usage: a police radio operator might say, “See the OT on the corner of Lewis and Harrel.” Journalists used it as shorthand in articles and news reports.
According to Holder, he had approached Thomas because the young lawyer recently won a wrongful employment termination case involving a succubus the ghoul knew. She had been fired because the new owner of the sports apparel company she’d worked at for a dozen years did not like OTs. The ghoul had followed the story in the news, and subsequently Thomas took on Holder’s case.
Thomas and Holder were joined at their table by Evelyn Love, an athletic looking woman with short red hair and a spray of freckles. Even in a suit, she looked more like a tennis player than a legal assistant.
The Love-Haight Case Files #1, Seeking Supernatural Justice
- ASIN : B098J8L6W5
- Publisher : Craig Martelle, Inc (August 23, 2021)
- Publication date : August 23, 2021
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From Jean:
It all started with a dead hippie
Thomas Brock and Evelyn Love are attorneys who crusade for the rights of OTs—Other-Than-Humans. Their clients include ghosts, gargoyles, vampires, and things that have not yet been given names. The city’s OT element is sometimes malevolent, sometimes misunderstood, and often discriminated against. Brock and Love represent them, whatever the case, whatever the species. Magic hangs heavy in San Francisco, with danger and intrigue as thick as the fog around the Golden Gate Bridge
A chunk of years ago I had an idea for a ghost-mystery set in 1960s San Francisco. I’d watched a history program about Haight-Ashbury and The Summer of Love, and I wanted to spindle and mutilate the setting. A couple of editors and my agent at the time told me a novel set in that decade wouldn’t sell.
Bummer.
I’d bookmarked websites full of slang from the Sixties. I was itching to have a character spew it.
Serious bummer.
I’d let the idea sleep in my computer for a few years and I went on to write a lot of other things.
Then it somehow resurfaced and I realized I was still stuck on the hippie.
I spindled and mutilated the idea more than I’d originally intended. I set it in present-day and made a supporting character out of a hippie who had died of a drug overdose on the corner of Haight-Ashbury, where a young attorney had since hung out his shingle.
The Love-Haight Case Files was born.
I added a supernatural element … ghosts, zombies, werewolves, vampires … just because it seemed like the thing to do. And then I had these Other-Than-Human souls come to the attorney for legal representation. Some of them were discriminated against and wanted to seek redress.
I wrote a couple of novellas in my version of San Francisco. And then I called Donald J. Bingle to ask if he’d like to join me. Don was an attorney for a lot of years in Chicago and Denver, and so not only could he write wonderfully interesting cases for the realm, he could make sure the legal stuff was correct.
The ghost’s name is Valentino, Val for short … named after a hunky college friend from back in my days at Norther Illinois University in DeKalb.
Gretchen turned and looked over her hunched shoulder. “Oh, and Val pestered me pretty much all afternoon. He cut out just before you showed up. Tell him to lay off me, will you? Can’t go through the case paperwork and deal with him at the same time. You tell him that, will you? He never listens to me.”
“Certainly, Gretchen. Enjoy your week—”
“I’m hoping for some Zinfandels. I like blackberry zin. Gonna watch the Forty Niners game on Sunday. They’re gonna crush Detroit.”
Though he’s a secondary character, Val is scattered throughout all of Thomas Brock’s cases:
The ghost had first revealed himself to Thomas after the law office had been open two months. Thomas had spent time with a handful of OTs at college, including his vampire roommate who’d become a close friend during his senior year of law school, but ghosts…? Val had been his first ghost.
Always open-minded and curious, Thomas nevertheless didn’t initially like the dead hippie. Val was all about getting high and talking about Haight-Ashbury’s summer of love; he definitely “lived” in the past, not in the “now.” Straight-laced Thomas just wasn’t a good fit with him. But as the weeks wore on, Thomas mellowed on the spirit, eventually coming to enjoy the ghost’s company. Now he almost considered Val a friend.
Val was certainly all about the music and getting high in life, and he managed to hold onto some of that in death:
“Sounds like that dude’s running open pipes,” the spirit observed.
Thomas agreed that the car was loud, probably a bad muffler, and the driver could get cited for it. Maybe a potential client was behind the wheel, looking in to see if the office was still open. Thomas realized he hadn’t turned the sign around yet. Maybe he’d get another case. With the windows of the car tinted like that, you couldn’t tell who was driving. Maybe an OT.
“I’d at least put a glasspack on that baby, don’t you think? Pigs’ll pick him up if he keeps revvin’ like that.”
Thomas took a step toward the door. Let the driver realize we’re still open. But then the car squealed away. An opportunity lost, he thought.
“Val … about Gretch—”
“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I’ll lay off Gretchen. Really, I will.”
“Thanks.”
“You have to understand—It’s just—” The spirit let the thought dangle for a moment before explaining. “It’s just that her arthritis was acting up more than usual today. Can you dig it? She was popping Vikes.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said Gretchen got her a script for Vicodin and popped a couple with her Cheese Doodles, and I hung close to get the effect. That was all. I wasn’t really bothering her, just … you know … copping the buzz. Didn’t you notice how she practically floated out of here?”
The good folks at WordFire Press published The Love-Haight Case Files, Seeking Supernatural Justice more than a few years ago. The rights reverted back to us. And the most marvelous Craig Martelle agreed to take Love-Haight on. So it is being re-released August 23 with a new, nifty cover. And the second volume in the series comes out the following month.
Too many ideas percolating in San Francisco to leave it at one book. In fact, I’m already playing with the idea for a case for volume three … and, yeah, Val will be in it.
The first volume received three prestigious Silver Falchion Awards from Killer Nashville and some delightful reviews.
Love-Haight is a comedy, locked within a mystery, hidden in a horror story… Wonderfully clever, stylish, and ghoulish. Delightfully twisted fun! —William C. Dietz, New York Times bestselling creator of The Legion of the Damned
Making the freakiest burg in the nation ten times freakier is a considerable achievement. —Glen Cook, bestselling author of The Black Company series
The Love-Haight Case Files #1, Seeking Supernatural Justice
Bio
Jean Rabe writes with dogs wrapped around her feet. She wears mismatched clothes and 18-year-old worn-out (but seriously comfortable) sandals to work. When the weather is fine she writes on her back porch. Jean loves summer.
She calls herself a mutt because she writes bits of this and bits of that, not sticking to one genre. She writes mostly mysteries, but also urban fantasy, high fantasy, and sometimes science fiction.
Jean is a recipient of the Faust, the grand master award of the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers, and the Illinois Author Project’s Soon-to-be Famous Award. She’s won three Silver Falchion awards from Killer Nashville, with co-author Donald J. Bingle. Jean has also been on the USA Today’s Bestseller list several times. She’s written more than forty fantasy, mystery, and adventure novels (including some ghosted projects), more short stories than she’s bothered to count, and edited magazines and anthologies. She is a member of the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers (IAMTW), and the International Thriller Writers (ITW).When writing, she listens to classical guitar and 60s rock. When not writing she tosses tennis balls for her cadre of dogs.
Jean’s web page: www.jeanrabe.com
On Twitter: @jeanerabe
Jean’s Amazon author page at: https://www.amazon.com/Jean-Rabe/e/B00J1QR5U2/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_1
Jean has a newsletter filled with tidbits about weird news items, pictures of her dogs, discussions of upcoming books, reviews of things she’s reading, and writing advice. You can subscribe here: http://jeanrabe.us14.list-manage1.com/subscribe?u=89364515308e8b5e7ffdf6892&id=9404531a4b
Random true facts about Donald J. Bingle: He was the Keeper of the World’s Largest Kazoo. He made up the science of Neo-PsychoPhysics for a time travel roleplaying game. He once successfully limboed under a pole only nineteen inches off the ground. He has written short stories about killer bunnies, civil war soldiers, detectives, Renaissance Faire orcs, giant battling robots, demons, cats, werewolves, time travelers, ghosts, time-traveling ghosts, spies, barbarians, a husband accused of murdering his wife, dogs, horses, gamers, soldiers, Neanderthals, commuters, kender, Victorian adventurers, lawyers, and serial killers (note the serial comma). Of those subjects, he has occasional contact in real life only with dogs, cats, gamers, lawyers, and commuters (unless some of those are, unknown to him, really time travelers, ghosts, demons, serial killers, spies, and/or murder suspects). He was once hit by lightning. He was the world’s top-ranked tournament player of classic roleplaying games like Advanced Dungeons & Dragons for about fifteen years.
Donald is the author of eight books and more than sixty shorter works in the horror, thriller, science fiction, mystery, fantasy, steampunk, romance, comedy, and memoir genres, including the Dick Thornby Thriller series (Net Impact; Wet Work; Flash Drive), Frame Shop, a murder mystery set in a suburban writers’ group, Forced Conversion, a near future scifi thriller, GREENSWORD, a darkly comedic eco-thriller and (with Jean Rabe) The Love-Haight Case Files, Books 1 & 2, a paranormal urban fantasy series about two lawyers who represent the legal rights of supernatural creatures in a magic-filled San Francisco. He also edited Familiar Spirits, an anthology of ghost stories.
Donald’s website is at www.donaldjbingle.com.
His Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/Donald-J-Bingle/e/B001JP4BBE?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2&qid=1628605515&sr=8-2