R J Dent’s novel, Myth, is now available from Vanguard/Pegasus.
Myth is a darkly erotic fantasy set on a Greek island that harbours a terrible secret.
Here’s an extract from this powerful debut.
The nightmare started during the second week of the holiday.
Up until then, James Barratt and Penny Ward – partners for almost three years – had enjoyed a beautifully idyllic week in Greece. They’d spent three days on Crete, followed by four days on Rhodes. Having then gone on to Aphros, they’d found the tiny island to be so beautiful they’d decided to stay there for the remainder of their holiday. Spending their days in a leisurely fashion, they had lazily sunbathed, enthusiastically and energetically fuck, swum, fished, eaten, got drunk once and gone to look at the ruins of an acropolis.
On day ten, things had started to go wrong. Badly wrong.
They were staying in a taverna in the tiny village of Luminos, which was bordered on three sides by a vast range of pumice-coloured hills and mountains. The fourth side was the sandy beach of a beautiful semi-circular bay that stretched for a kilometre in each direction. Luminos resembled an old western frontier town in that it only consisted of two rows of white-painted one-storey wooden dwellings running along opposite sides of the makeshift coast road that meandered its way to Praxos, the only other village on Aphros – and situated at the opposite end of the island. Praxos was also the only place on the island that the once-a-week boat from Athens stopped at. Barratt and Penny had been intrigued by the wooden houses of Luminos – they’d seen enough Greek architecture to know that wooden buildings were unusual – Greek buildings were usually made of whitewashed stone or brick or concrete.
Day nine of their holiday coincided with the anniversary of the third year of Barratt and Penny’s relationship. They spent most of that day in bed, only getting up and dressing to go for dinner in the small outdoor dining area at the back of the inn. They ate well, and then went into the bar to celebrate their anniversary.
Day nine was also one of the many days that the chimera got mentioned – although this time the reference was a little more direct than some of the others they’d heard. They’d heard the mythical beast mentioned by hawkers of goods and had seen a few artistic representations of it since their arrival in Greece. Barratt thought about the little he knew about the chimera. The main myth was that the chimera was a ferocious beast with a goat’s body, a lion’s head and a snake’s tail, which had once terrorised Lycia. A Greek soldier named Bellerephon had flown on Pegasus to the chimera’s lair, where he’d killed it by beheading it and pouring molten lead down its neck.
As he looked out of the open door at the rapidly darkening mauve evening sky, he became aware of two voices raised in anger. An old man, seated on a barstool, exchanged a few angry words with Marcos, the barman. The other patrons of the bar fell silent as the quarrel went on for a few more seconds. Finally, Marcos came out from behind the bar and stomped over to the inn door, which he closed firmly and then bolted shut.
Barratt was surprised. He glanced at his watch and saw that it had only just gone eight.
“Are you closing early?” he asked as Marcos walked past him back to the bar.
Marcos paused and shook his head. “No,” he said simply, his face still bearing traces of anger from his quarrel with the old man. “I shut the door to keep the chimera out.”
Barratt decided to find out if Marcos was having them on – a little joke at the expense of the ignorant tourists.
“The chimera?” Barratt asked hesitantly.
The inn owner nodded. “That is right. The chimera. The three-in-one.” He pointed a finger at the closed door and Barratt knew he was indicating the hills and mountains beyond Luminos. “It lives in the hills and has preyed on this village for years.”
You can now buy this novel from Pegasus or from Amazon
