ELEVATOR PITCH – Dark Star
Writer: Oliver Langmead
Publisher: Unsung Stories
Science fantasy, hardboiled noir and epic verse collide in this unique debut. ‘A future cult classic.’ ‘In short, a masterpiece.’
What is “Dark Star?
Dark Star is a powerful combination of science fantasy, hardboiled noir and epic verse. The city of Vox survives in darkness, under a sun that burns without light. Three Hearts bring power to the light-deprived citizens of the city whilst ghosts haunt the streets, clawing at headlights. Prometheus, liquid light, is the drug of choice.
‘Hero’ cop, Virgil Yorke is already investigating the murder of a promising student, Vivian North, whose blood shines like floodlights, when one of the Hearts is stolen. Now Yorke needs to save the city from darkness and the Heart’s power.
But Virgil has had a long cycle and he doesn’t feel like a hero, whatever the papers say. It’s just him and his partner, Dante. Haunted by the ghosts of his past and chased by his addictions, which will crack first, Virgil or the case?
Why should we pick this up?
‘Beautifully written, masterfully plotted, and built around a character that is at once a complete stranger and an old friend. In short, a masterpiece.’ ReaderDad
‘Truly fresh and original. Perfectly paced and structured yet in a form virtually unknown to the genre, Dark Star is detective noir for the 21st century.’ Speculiction
‘This one is a possible future cult classic.’ Book C***
‘5* An unexpectedly gorgeous story in verse. Langmead is simply a brilliant writer’ Books, Bones and Buffy
‘In a word – WOW!’ Mutt Cafe
‘Oliver Langmead’s Dark Star is one of the most inventive and interesting debuts I’ve read since starting this blog. It’s a soon-to-be classic, I’m sure of it.’ Acerbic Writing
Dark Star Sample
Dante drives the borrowed squad car direct.
He’s an accident of flesh and blunt bones
Shaped human, ugly and mostly scowling,
Made bitter by the job and the city.
The car’s engine coughs, groans loud and sounds sick,
Making the noises that mark how I am.
Here’s this cycle’s comedown, deserved of time
Spent pricked and dissolved into my habits.
Good old Dante pretends not to notice.
He watches the glinting out in the road,
Keeps us on course, wherever we’re going.
The radio is coarse static chatter.
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