Author: Dexter C. Channing
Jolyon Jones, Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, knows that it is a race against time to find a vaccine for this highly infectious virus before the consequences wipe out humanity. He also knows that the virus is not the only killer. Small pockets of resistance are slowly emerging; survivors ready to fight not only against the virus, but against each other.
In the midst of the battle for survival, the faithful know that their wait for the Second Coming is nearly over. They know that He is here again. But who is He and will He be able to stop the virus before science reaches an apocalyptic solution?
I have to laugh whenever I am told that being the Prime Minister’s wife is glamorous and carefree. How I wish it was!
They forget, very easily, that I had no choice. That Jolyon and I had the roles thrust upon us because the former Prime Minister caught the virus. They, the people that wish they were me, that see me as a spoilt, insipid woman standing in the shadow of her powerful husband – they don’t know what it’s like. They don’t understand.
A few weeks ago, I was kidnapped. Yes, kidnapped, you heard me. Seized from my parent’s apartment in China. I was collateral. They killed my poor mother, but she was ill anyway, and I doubt if she would have ever recovered, so maybe it was a blessing that she went quickly. A gunshot, and then nothing. Better that than a lingering, painful death.
Glamorous! Being thrown in a tiny, airless room, being given one meal a day and the toilet was in the same room. I imagine that was what being in prison would be like.
I was released, thankfully, and so now, after an admittedly loving reunion, I am back in the shadow of my Prime Minister husband. The role is a blessing and a curse. We are obviously treated with deference and there are days when all I have to think about is myself, and how I look, and what to wear. Then I sit and wait, in the apartment, for some of the time Jolyon can spare. It isn’t much. I try not to mind, but I do. That’s the bit which is the curse. I hardly ever see him and when I do, he doesn’t see me, I mean, really see me. He wouldn’t be able to tell you what colour dress I’m wearing today, for instance. Then again, does any husband really look at his wife?
Other wives are luckier, I know, because they can tell their husbands how afraid they are – of the virus, of the repercussions. I mean, our son, Luke – he’s a doctor – a doctor of Virology, no less. Luckily, he has a research post, so he’s not on the front line, but for how long? This virus is sweeping the country, people are falling sick, dying, and then – well, then there’s the other things that this virus is causing. How long before Luke has to join a hospital and fight the virus in an intensive care unit? It terrifies me, but I’m not allowed to tell Jolyon and of course, he wouldn’t listen. He is like everyone else in Government at the moment, they are fighting an unseen killer, but the virus isn’t the only thing that isn’t seen.
I’m more or less invisible. I may as well be dead. Would Jolyon even notice? Would anyone?
I have to go now, there’s some woman coming to see me to talk to me about Jolyon. Her name is Marianne Benjamin. She says she knows Jolyon, but he’s never mentioned her before. I wonder why?
~Try an Excerpt!~Across the Atlantic, early evening sunlight bathed the White House in an auroral light, shimmering in the gentle breeze which sighed across the velvet green lawns. Inside the Oval Office, nobody cared for the view, despite how peaceful and ordinary it looked.
The President was wearing his most mulish look as the Secretary of State and the Defence Secretary reeled from his latest revelation. For a moment, only the distant wail of sirens could be heard in the thick silence which surrounded them following the President’s declaration. The sound mingled with the groan of despair from the Defence Secretary, an involuntary reaction to what he had just listened to.
‘Mr President, Sir,’ the Defence Secretary looked at the other man and felt like smashing his fist into the supercilious expression he found staring back at him. Did the President not understand what was happening and how there was a need for unity, not discord within global relationships? Obviously, he did not! ‘Could I ask you if Professor Benjamin did this without coercion?’
Spreading his arms out in a gesture that indicated he did not know or understand, the President replied, ‘All I know is that I have been told of a call made to Beyler School of Medicine from Professor Benjamin’s office. Who instructed him to make the call, I don’t know, but I do know that if there is a second spike, another “mutation”, then Watpharm had better understand it will need Gileath to bail it out of its fucking mess, pissing about with some bloody college students and those yellow skinned freaks!’
‘This has been done as retaliation because what, Watpharm didn’t want to set up shop with an American Company? Jesus fucking Christ!’ The Defence Secretary’s fist came down on the desk, making the other two men jump. ‘We’re in the middle of a fucking world changing crisis, Mr President, Sir! We have the threat of extinction and we have got non-humans running amok on the fucking planet and some idiot professor wants some more business for his company?’
‘This administration gives Gileath a hell of a lot of dollars,’ the President glared at his Defence Secretary, ‘and I don’t want those dollars wasted! Working with Watpharm might also go some way to restoring America’s credibility on the world stage.’
‘I think what the Defence Secretary is trying to say, Mr President, is that if there is a second spike or another mutation of this current outbreak, then the world stage may not have much of an audience left to play to, Sir.’ The Secretary of State intervened.
The President threw his papers down onto his desk and stormed out of the office wearing a truculent expression.
The Secretary of State shook his head. ‘Sometimes, the thought crosses my mind that a couple of cups of disinfectant or bleach wouldn’t go amiss.’
They were both thinking of a disastrous video link press conference which had been held towards the end of April. It had been beamed around the globe, one of the few broadcasts that were made that day and America still hadn’t recovered from the backlash. Both men looked to the door, which the President had just slammed.
‘How much is a bottle of Clorax these days?’ Asked the Defence Secretary and they both burst out laughing, amazed that they still could.
Dexter C Channing is something of a mystery to the literary world – and indeed, the team at Just Jane Publishing has never actually met this author, having been introduced through another writer during the Covid 19 Lockdown.
Fact, fantasy and science all combine in this author’s often dark writing style, which takes you through conspiracy theories to conclusions you’d rather not reach in the real world. Or maybe, as Dexter says, you’re already there.
Is Dexter C Channing an American? There’s a possibility, but then anything is possible, if you believe what goes on in Channing’s imagination, often taking us to places we’d rather not go. It’s clear at some point that Channing did live in America, and still has some links to Miami and Deerfield Beach.
More of late, Channing has been residing in England and has actually allowed the team at Just Jane Publishing access to a list of favourite places which include Chesterfield in Derbyshire, Liverpool, and a surprising one, given the penchant for city living – a tiny village called Kettlewell, in Yorkshire.
What does a mysterious author who nobody really knows do when they’re not writing? Channing watches. Things. Events. People. Then they get written about. Is Channing a one trick pony? Far from it. There are links with law, property, and a love of music, which is always in the background when Channing is writing.
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ReplyDeleteAn exciting genre. Not one I have read before.
ReplyDeleteThank you kindly ma'am for having me on your blog and highlighting my latest novel.
ReplyDeleteSounds like a good book.
ReplyDeleteI am so excited to read this. I was tense even reading this post. I have a feeling I won't be able to put this book down until I reach the end.
ReplyDeleteSounds like a very interesting book.
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