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Devil’s Run
Collector’s Edition, by Gordon Mohs
The first of a trilogy, Inspector Eddie Julian of the Tribal Police Force finds more than he bargains for when a fisheries officer is found dead in the river during a river-wide fishing ban. The investigation takes Eddie Julian into a world he’s unfamiliar with as he begins to solve this case, while searching for his biological roots, and battling with the emotions that surface as he discovers the truth about the murder – and himself.
Collector’s Edition – 1,000 numbered and signed. Cloth-bound, 361 pp. with glossary, original artwork, Gift box This edition is sold through the publisher only at $89 plus GST & shipping.
ISBN: 978-0-9686046-0-9
To order, click [here]
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Sample Read:
Chapter 6The fog was thick, and lay like a heavy blanket over the big river, spilling up onto its banks. The fog was a blessing, a disguise from watching eyes.
“The most dangerous part is pulling them in.”
“Yes Uncle.”
“Don’t you be smart now, young woman. Every once in a while the Sturgeon People claim one of their own, and I wouldn’t want it to be you.”
“Yes Uncle.”
The conversation continued on in her mind, as though he were here. It was strange fishing without him.Rose braced her body against the edge of the sleek riverboat, and carefully drew another fathom of line. It was big. Her excitement and nervousness mounted.
“Always brace your line when you feel movement, and always keep your knife handy.”
Rose slipped the little knife between her teeth. Her big knife was secure in a snap-sheath, strapped to the left leg of her jeans. The Velcro had been her uncle’s idea.
“Years ago, when I was out with the Walker twins, Bruce was hauling in this big sturgeon when suddenly it broke the surface and flipped. A thing of beauty, seeing that. But two barbed hooks came flying into the boat. One snagged an oar. The other snagged Duane Walker’s hand, and boy did he scream. Well that sturgeon began hauling us up the Fraser River, so I yelled at Bruce to cut him free.
“Now Bruce was quick. He grabbed Duane’s hand, stuck his knife in, and cut Duane free of the hook. I never laughed so hard in all my life. I meant for him to cut the LINE.”
Her uncle’s words. He was full of stories. Rose smiled. Everything she knew about the river, everything she knew about sturgeon fishing, everything she knew about Devil’s Run, she had learned from her uncle. And she knew to be careful. There were too many names going around the valley with no one attached to them. Common names. People Rose had known.
She carefully drew another fathom of line, detected movement with the tips of her fingers, and quickly braced the line against the side of the boat. She wished her Uncle Joe were here now.
“Leukemia”, they said. It wasn’t fair. And now, all the sturgeon were dying. “A mystery”, they said.
“Be careful, Rose Blossom.”
“Yes Uncle”, Rose said aloud.
The catch was alongside her now. She could feel the weight. Rose carefully anchored the thick nylon line with her left hand, and picked up the elongated, ironwood club in her right.
“If you whack them just right, you can get them to shore before they wake up.”
The currents were steady, the boat holding position. Rose raised her right arm.
“A good solid whack, right between the eyes.”
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She gently drew the remaining fathom of line toward the boat. Her eyes darted over the dark green surface, searching for the tip of the triangular, green head. Water rippled. Rose lifted her club. Adrenaline rushed as she began the downward swing.
At that moment, a pale hand broke the surface of the water. Rose screamed, and then felt bone crushing, flesh being torn away. The little knife tumbled into the bottom of the riverboat.
