I am working on a novel about a group of thieves who travel through space and time to steal historical artifacts, under the thumb of a sinister society of alchemists. Books in the urban fantasy genre for adults are few and far between, and I’d like to address this gap with my work. Check out the following extract and please don’t hesitate to contact me if you’re interested in learning more about this project.
“If you passed Krish Khatri on the street, you probably wouldn’t notice him. Instead of taking in his rumpled, disheveled appearance, your eyes might glaze over as you contemplate what to do about your sucky boss. Or your mouth might salivate at the sight of the pani puri stand right across the street. You might even be busy shielding your eyes away from the beggars huddled in the corner, pleading with their eyes and the metal pans they thrust in front of you to entreat them to your generosity, too busy ignoring them to notice the slight flick of hands that relieves you of having to be a miser. Your wallet would have nothing left inside.
Of course, Krish could make himself noticeable if he wanted to. He’d stop slouching, walk with a swagger and his head held high. He’d wear clothes that needed no labels printed over it to look expensive. He’d stride in your shop, flirt with the checkout girl, and leave with the contents of your cash register, without so much as batting an eyelid.
A chameleon, that was Krish’s spirit animal.”
Another project I’m working on is an experimental novel about the life of a man, seen through the eyes of the female strangers that come across him. Check out the following extract and please don’t hesitate to reach out to me if you would like to learn more about this project too.
“It had been two weeks, but Kayalvizhi still had not gotten used to the air conditioning on the Silks Floor. Having worked in inventory for three years, she was more accustomed to the dusty and sweaty grime that comes along with running around, rummaging through boxes to find the exact style or shade a customer was looking for. ‘The customer is always right’, she was taught, even if they were loud, rude, or downright obnoxious. ‘The customer is always right’, even if after being shown every rose-colored sari in the shop, they suddenly change their mind and prefer peacock-blue.
If not for the customers, Kayalvizhi would have loved her job. Being surrounded by all the vibrant colors, modelling the exquisite designs for people on her own body, the cool feeling of the soft silk on her sunburnt skin, these were the highlights of her day. It almost made shivering in the cold room and plastering a fake smile on her face all day worth it. Almost.”