If that’s your cry, you’ll be pleased to learn that there five totally new adventures coming this fall in the book Sherlock Holmes – The Golden Years, by Kim Krisco.
These five tales take place after Holmes and Watson believe they have gone into retirement. This new action-packed, historically accurate series of stories clearly show that some of their most remarkable and dangerous adventures await them.
The saga begins with The Bonnie Bag of Bones that lead the infamous duo on a not-so-merry chase into the mythical mountains of Scotland.
Curse of the Black Feather continues the adventure in which Holmes teams up with the Irregulars, and a gypsy matriarch, to expose a diabolical “baby-farming” enterprise.
Maestro of Mysteries begins with a summons to Mycroft’s office and ends with a deadly chase in Undertown, far beneath the streets of London.
The Cure that Kills sees Holmes and Watson in hot pursuit of the diabolical Ciarán Malastier, racing across America, and pitting them against the largest detective organization in the world.
In the final story, The Kongo Nkis Spirit Train, Holmes and Watson travel to the Dark Continent to derail a “spirit train” that ensnares people’s spirit, and enslaves their bodies.
In the end, this wonderful new chronicle sheds new light on greatest mystery of all, Sherlock Holmes himself.
Targeted Age Group:: 12 to 112
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
I read mostly non-fiction most of my life. So, I suppose it was natural that, when I turned to writing for a living, I initially wrote non-fiction. Then, something happened when I moved into the isolated Rocky Mountains, I began reading fiction almost exclusively — all kinds: science fiction, fantasy, action adventure, etc. I thought about writing fiction for a long time before I actually sat down to my laptop. I suppose, this is because I instinctively knew that fiction is harder to write than non-fiction. Of course, before writing Sherlock Holmes – The Golden Years, I read all of the Sherlock Holmes stories, and more than that, I read everything that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote . . . and he wrote a lot! It was a “warm-up” before the “race.”
To hone my writing skills I wrote my first Holmes pastiche — The Bonnie bag of Bones (which appears in this collection). I shared it with some fellow authors and they encouraged me to publish it. When I look ed around for a publisher I immediately found the world’s largest publisher of Holmes pastiches and the like — MX Publishing in London. I submitted a query letter, followed by my story and . . . now I am published!
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
Sherlock Holmes – The Golden Years is a collection of new Holmes pastiches. As such, the main protagonist is Sherlock Holmes., As Doyle did in 54 of his stories, Watson is the storyteller. However, the “supporting cast” in this new collection of five novellas includes Irene Adler – “the woman,” and two new diabolical antagonists, among a large cast of other characters. I also enjoyed researching and writing some remarkable “real life” historical characters such as G.K. Chesterton, Leander Starr Jameson, Emmeline Pankhurst, Harry Houdini, and President Theodore Roosevelt. I didn’t set out to include these larger-than-life characters, but they seemed to naturally emerge from the rich historical backgrounds for these stories. As one of my editors put it, “These tales read like mini-historical novels.” The research was time-consuming, but rewarding to me as a writer – and hopefully to my readers, as well.
Of course, I had to create a villain for Holmes. That was fun. I think I succeeded in creating a worthy antagonist. And I am proud to report that Roger Johnson, of the Sherlock Holmes Society of London said, in a recent review, Kim has created “. . . a worthy successor to Moriarty.”
INTRODUCTION: Sherlock Holmes’s powers of observation, combined with his great intellect, are what distinguish him as the world’s greatest detective. This excerpt takes place in the first of five stories in the collection, Sherlock Holmes – The Golden Years. The story is entitled: The Bonnie Bag of Bones.
Holmes is on the trail of the bones that leads to the apartment of a woman who has resisted Holmes’s inquiries. As always, however, Holmes has picked up a small thread of a clue at her apartment that, in the end, unravels the entire mystery. Holmes and Watson are talking:
“I can tell you that Miss Arabella Kenna did not appreciate my inquires. She, of course, denied any association with this matter. I regretted having to confront her with the facts that we unearthed at The Days of Yore. I may have implied that we knew more than we do. She was shaken to the marrow. Indeed, the mere mention of Aviemore nearly caused her to swoon. When I mentioned Godfrey Norton she did her best to disavow any knowledge of him.”
“No. She made no confession, but her behavior belied her involvement.”
“So, where does that leave us?
“I had hoped that my visit might cause Ms. Kenna to bolt and lead us in some new direction, but alas the woman remained in her quarters on Curzon Street for some time. However,” said he, with a raised index finger, “my interview did tell me that a gentleman had been in the very parlour where we chatted, not too long before my arrival.”
“What did you see, Holmes?”
“Not see, Watson: smell. My olfactory senses picked up on a singular male cologne wafting in the air. A redolent aroma that is familiar to me.”
“And where, if I may ask, does that take us?”
“This scent, while I am not familiar with its particulars, emanates from a family of Chypre colognes,” Holmes explained. “On the morrow we go shopping, Watson.”
The next day Holmes was up early and had already, by the time I was dressed, made a list of establishments we should visit.
“I can’t see how you expect to find the unique scent among the hundreds that sit upon the shelves of the many shops on your list.”
“The nose’s memory is long and resilient. Smells are deeply imbedded in our brains. The smell of sweet yeast not only conjures up baking bread, but images of home, mother and Sunday picnics of long ago. The nose is an olfactory time machine, Watson, and this ancient old-fashioned scent is one I will always remember.”
“Where does it transport you, if I may ask?”
Holmes peered out beyond the walls of this room, “It is similar to the scent my grandfather would wear on special occasions . . . like Christmas.”
After breakfast we set out. The first shop on Holmes’s list was Penhaligon’s in the Burlington Arcade. The counters sported bottle after bottle of scents. Holmes went straight to the men’s section and inquired about offerings in the Chypre collection, but there were none.
Next we went to Floris Estates on Jermyn Street. Better luck there with Holmes sampling something called Vetivar from a scent box. On to J. D. Harris, a tonsorial parlour, with it’s rich mahogany walls and private rooms. No luck there; however, that changed when we walked into the George F. Trumper establishment. Holmes’s nose immediately picked up on something that told him we might find our scent here. The proprietor approached.
“Good morning, sir. May I be of service?”
Holmes took on a foppish demeanor. “I have always loved fragrance,” Holmes exclaimed, “and your shop verily abounds with possibilities.”
“I believe it is not boastful to say the George F. Trumper offers the most rare and unique colognes in Britain and the continent.”
Holmes inquired, “Cologne is my one indulgence. My skin chemistry is particular, and, as well, my nose. I am hoping you might have an ancient scent that I have not been able to find in all of London. It is in the Chypre family.”
“Ah, Chypre,” the proprietor said, “from Cyprus in French. I can see you are a discriminating olfactory connoisseur. While everyone is rushing to the florals, a chosen few prefer the darker, mysterious aroma of the woods.”
“So, you have something to offer me then?” Holmes asked.
“Indeed,” the proprietor said, “Let me show you something from the collection of Francois Coty,” he said, reaching under the counter to reveal a small glass bottle filled with an amber liquid. “Please, put this to the test.”
Holmes picked up the small bottle and lifted the stopper. He then waved the bottle slowly back and forth just below his chin several times.
The proprietor broke in on Holmes’s apparent reverie. “It is called Mistero.”
“Very nice indeed,” Holmes declared, “but I was looking for something even darker, if you understand.”
“I do sir, I do! I believe I have just what you are looking for.”
He produced a large round bottle with a cork stopper topped with the silver letter T. He tilted the bottle so that it wet the stopper and then presented it to Holmes.
Holmes held it in front of him and, using the stopper as a kind of wand, slowly waved it in small circles in front of him. Then he lowered the stopper to the counter and leaned his face forward to capture the scent.
“Yes,” Holmes said, with his eyes flashing. “Warm, liquory, very unconventional. I love it.”
“We call it Tobac Blonde,” the proprietor said. “It is our very own fragrance. There are but a few gentlemen connoisseurs such as yourself, who can appreciate this rare fragrance.”
“Then you do not sell much Tobac Blonde?” Holmes inquired.
“It is popular on the continent, sir, but I have few customers in London.”
“Oh, and I can guess one of them,” Holmes exclaimed, as he turned to me. “Mister . . . Mister . . . you know, Watson. The gentleman we recently met who lives on Curzon Street . . . in Mayfair.”
Holmes caught me off guard. I blinked and furrowed my brows not quite knowing what to say. Fortunately, the proprietor came to my rescue.
“You must be speaking of Mr. Norville,” the proprietor said.
“Quite so,” Holmes said, “that’s the name. Forty-three Curzon if I am not mistaken.”
“Indeed, sir. Then you are acquainted? It has been only fortnight since we made our last delivery to him.”
“Oh dear,” Holmes said. “If I were to wear Tobac Blonde my colleague might take offense. I hadn’t contemplated that. But perhaps a gift? Very well. I’d like to purchase two ounces.”
The storekeeper returned after a few moments with a wrapped package.
As we departed, I remarked, “Holmes, you are a wonder! I trust you are not thinking of wearing that ‘dreadful concoction.’
“I rather enjoyed it, Watson,” Holmes replied, but I fear, I already have too many bad habits. No, Watson, I intend to use this ‘dreadful concoction’ to bait the gentleman who is frequenting the apartment of Miss Arabella Kenna.”
Kim Krisco, author of three books on leadership, now follows in the footsteps of the master storyteller Sir Arthur Conan Doyle by adding five, totally new Sherlock Holmes adventures to the canon. He captures the voice and style of Doyle, as Holmes and Watson find themselves unraveling mysteries in, and around, turn-of-the-century London that, as Holmes puts it, “appears to have taken on an unsavory European influence.”
Meticulously researched, all of Krisco’s stories read as mini historical novels. Sherlock Holmes – The Golden Years started out as a series of mysteries based upon British mythology. He traveled to the UK and Scotland in May of 1913 to do research. One of his treks brought him to Aviemore Scotland and Ben MacDhui Mountain, where he was introduced to the Legend of the Grey Man of Ben MacDhui. There he learned about a creature known locally as ‘Fear Liath Mor,’ reported in dozens of sightings as a humanoid about ten feet tall, covered in hair, and having long arms. When he spoke with locals about this malign creature, one local historian remarked, “It’s a mystery that only Sherlock Holmes can solve.” That gave Kim the idea to change the entire series of stories he was writing into a collection of Sherlock Holmes mysteries.
In Sherlock Holmes – The Golden Years, Kim Krisco breathes new life into the beloved “odd couple,” revealing deeper insights into Holmes’s and Watson’s protean friendship that has become richer with age . . . and a bit “puckish.”
Krisco’s diverse career created a circuitous route to his becoming a full-time writer. He has taught college; managed instructional media and distance learning programs, written and directed TV and films; and served in corporate communications, human resources and training functions. As he puts it today, “I am being re-educated by Nature.” This is his way of saying that he lives in a relative seclusion in an area of the Colorado Rockies, in a straw-bale home he and Sara Rose built themselves.
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