Here is chapter one of my friend Chris Knopf's new novel, The Last Refuge. While I live in the comfortable, warm climate of Key West, Chris is up north and writes about Long Island. I like to visit his New York, but via his books. It's too chilly up there otherwise. I know you will enjoy this tease. The book is available on Kindle.
One afternoon in the Fall of 2000 I was out in the drive under the Grand Prix, where I spent much of the time when the air temperature was above freezing and below 85o. I was under the car on a wood creeper when I caught a whiff of something. It was strong enough, and strange enough, to stop my work. Then it seemed to disappear, swept away by the clean, dry October air. About twenty minutes later it was there again. Holding the wrench still on the bolt, I stopped turning and took another whiff. There was something primal in the air. It reminded me of a pile of leaves I’d once set on fire that had a dead squirrel hidden inside. Something corrupt, decayed.
All right, you enjoyed it and here is a review from The East Hampton Star. It will give you a hint for the rest of the story:
Real estate, development, property values, subdivisions, wetlands, zonings,hearings, housing permits, appeals board, nonconformance, leases, exclusives, variances, bulldozers, backhoes. As dryly, factually used every week in our Hamptons newspapers, perhaps not, but they are at the heart ofthis classy, wholly credible page-turner.