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Blue Martini
by Don Okolo; Edited by D. Christine Browne
414 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #04-0810; ISBN 1-4120-2983-X; US$25.82, C$25.82, EUR17.64, £13.33
A Fantastic read...a great page turner. BLUE MARTINI is a true international crime novel.
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About the Book About the Author Excerpts Catalogue Information
About the Book
Greatly disappointed with his life, he took an overdose of expired drugs to end what he believed was a pathetic exsistence. Four days later he emerged from a comatose state. His ex-wife came knocking on his door one hour later bearing gifts, a new lease on life......money and lots of it!
Before lunch was over Bono Shadoni was sucked into one of the most amazing, intriguing and bizarre con-games ever conceived. This game, offered by the Queen Bee herself, was so sweet that the idea of being a willing drone in the hive gave him immeasurable joy.
However, Bono didn't count on deception and countless murders as part of the deal. Nor did he expect to travel across three continents before grasping the sheer enormity of the scam...his country was being swallowed in a swirling vortex of greed, deceit and the worst kind of mayhem.
With his suspicions heightened, he begins his own investigation, enlisting along the way a Scotland Yard Sleuth, A Cabdriver and two very capable ladies.
Soon the crew will fight a thousand battles of wit and raw skill. They will match strategies with an organized, complex, group of criminals and mischief makers. They will tangle with men sworn to the single act of protecting their financial empire by any means necessary.
About the Author
Don Okolo arrived in the United States from his native Nigeria in 1975. He attended Philander Smith College in Little Rock, Arkansas and later completed his education at Texas Southern University in Houston, Texas, earning a Master's Degree in Public Administration.
As a result of his passion for storytelling, Okolo quickly established himself as an independent film maker and screenplay writer. He has served as writer and director of four feature length films, with as many as thirty screenplays to his credit. His film credits include; Material Witness, the Kangaroo, the Stalk Exchange, and Return of the Exile.
Blue Martini is his first novel.
His second book Bargersville is expected to be released December 2004.
Excerpts
I had gone through the entire maze before noon. The Hocus Pocus Edge and the Palm Wine Ledge were a couple of blocks from each other. A bunch of people sat on the dirt road playing five card stud next to the metal earthlings and the old juke boxes on Puke Grass Causeway. I made a brief stop at the Harlots Square, talked with Jeremiah Orika-Agu, bought the required carton of Odeku, and dealt with the naked twins. The twins worked as prostitutes at a club house called the Grotto.
I was at the meandering Broken-Hearted Roadway looking at an evenly spaced out subdivision of the most beautiful houses on the entire Island of Lagos. Ten long years in one city, and I didn't know this place existed. I zeroed in on a green colored house standing quite alone inside a beautiful wooded firmament. I didn't care for the color. It was the unbelievable monstrosity and the structurally aesthetic overkill of the house named 'The Coconut Estate' that got me thinking that maybe, just maybe, Susanna Pango lived there.
I stood on a little mound of earth viewing the house. I needed more than just a few minutes to appreciate and imbibe the architectural fine points. Everything about the house was in excess. I had to convince myself that the house and its denizens presented no immediate danger to me. A million things went through my mind in a flash. Why would any man in his right mind, and for that matter, a woman, build a house this big? I shouldn't ask. 'If you've got it, flaunt it'. You couldn't find anywhere else in the world where those famous last words ring so true. We possess an inordinate and unmatched desire for hyperbole. And with this house, the exaggeration was in overdrive. However, I'd give anything to own this baby that looked like Count Dracula's castle in so many ways.
In the second floor window, I saw the blurry outline of a female in a red flowing gown. She was not moving, and neither did she conceal the fact that she was watching me. My mind had an Etilogue Umuoma War Song going. This song would make you leap higher than you stood. Inside, I was truly hyped up. I followed the rhythm and groove lines of the war song. My whole body was swaying gently to the beat. It was a beautiful symphony of flutes, congas and thumb guitar. But, there was an undercurrent of unexplained mystery trailing the beat. A smidgeon of real fear hung like an overcast before my eyes. Danger was always apparent in situations such as this. My dear heart, with the entire village orchestra to back it up, couldn't save me. If I hadn't put the brakes on it, it'd have leaped out of its protective cage.
Each time I looked at the window, her blurry figure mellowed, became finer and richer in her blood-red gown. I needed a smoke to stay calm. I lit up, placed the carton of Guiness on a mound of earth, and sat on it. If Susanna Pango was going to play the waiting game, hell, I had nothing but time. My idea of a long wait was to sit on this mound like a little bird on an anthill and feast on the dark nuisance. I'd learned my lesson with Ms Amallo just last night, and I reckoned it was too damn early to lose my nerve twice in two days. Then, I remembered Johnny Nwanganga saying I should approach the house fox-trotting, because she'd be watching me. She had stood there like a statue watching me. It was therefore time for me to fox-trot with the carton on my head.
I was truly afraid. It could be Johnny's uncanny directions on how to get here. Or, it could be his imaginative and surreal juxtaposition of spectral imagery and reality into an ester of truism that got me thinking, and wondering more.
I got up, picked up the carton, placed it on my head, and set sail. I wasn't sure what I was walking into. I didn't feel safe. It felt like I had walked into the Bermuda triangle, expecting the earth to open up and swallow me. Well, nothing happened. I stood next to the massive gate looking like a two bit messenger with the carton on my head. The double gates split open. I waited for something to prompt me. Pretty soon, something did. The door to the main house cracked open...just enough to pass a hand through. My approach was deliberately slow. I reached the open door and threw it wide open. I entered, leaving the door open in case I'd have to run for my life. I set the carton down as I heard soft footsteps coming down the staircase.
If she had hit me with a sledgehammer, I'd have had a chance at breathing again. This was an impact from a freight train traveling at the speed of light. And, I didn't see it coming. It hit me dead on, sending my whole body, and my mind going in different directions, and causing me to gasp for air. A double whammy. I wanted my mind back. It was all I had, and what I needed the most. I forced my mind to accept as true, that it was her in the room. It wasn't a dream. It was her, in the flesh. I looked away from her to the side of the living room that had some of the most expensive Renaissance art. I wanted to be sure that other realities existed in the same room with her.
Catalogue Information
