Clash of Eagles and Eagle in Exile are the first books in a trilogy set in the same universe.Smale applied the Page 69 Test to his new novel, Mad Dogs & Englishmen, and reported the following:
As luck—or fate—would have it, page 69 of Mad Dogs & Englishmen works magnificently to give readers a good feel for the story. This is especially striking since Mad Dogs is a short novel (like all the other cryptid books in the Systema Paradoxa line), and so page 69 is over halfway through, when the climactic action has already begun. That makes it a little spoilery, but I’d challenge anyone to figure out how the story winds its way from page 1 to page 69 without actually reading the pages in between.Visit Alan Smale's website.
It also marks the beginning of a new chapter. So, as Chapter Twelve begins, my unfortunate protagonist Lindsey Ambler’s already terrible day is getting quite a bit worse as we get reveals of the principal mad dogs in question, both cryptid and human, all within the confined space of a cottage on the edge of the Yorkshire Dales:The beast was over three feet tall at the shoulder and longer in proportion than a real dog would have been, and it was shaggy, hugely shaggy. But it was not the creature’s coat that drew the eyes first, but those thick, wide claws that now skated across the hardwood floors, leaving deep gouges before the animal braked to a stop. Next it was the great jaws, lined with thick, sharp teeth, in that long snout, and finally the blazing red eyes of the beast, bright with rage. The barghest appeared to fill the room.Phew. OMG. It’s all go, I tell ya.
Greta looked around at the sudden smashing sound and froze at the sight before her. The piano-wire garotte loosened around Lindsey’s neck and she gasped, sucking air in through a raw throat that still felt constricted. She rocked forward and her hands landed on Greta’s shoulders; had she not done so, she would surely have slid down to the ground.
Men of action, Briggs and Draken reacted far more swiftly, with Atkinson not far behind. Briggs raised his shotgun and fired, and again the crashing noise of the blast slammed into Lindsey’s ears, ratcheting up her sick headache to a new level.
Buckshot raked the barghest’s body, its multiple points of impact evident from the way his fur flew. The creature skidded and howled, its roar of pain almost as loud as the shotgun discharge.
From the floor in front of it, Draken leaned back, swinging the zombie knife, and the serrated blade raked across the barghest’s left foreleg.
Uncanny as the beast was, it was still living flesh and blood. Quite a lot of blood, as it turned out.
Lindsey tried to shove Greta away, but the smaller woman seemed to regain her senses. She raised her knee to pin Lindsey back against the wall and jerked again at the ends of the piano wire.
As page 69 commences we’ve obviously already quite deep into the heat of battle, and stress, and pain, and very loud noises in a very small space, and so there’s a lot to unpack. But up until this point the tale has been very atmospheric, very character-driven, and the tension has ramped up gradually. It’s certainly not this breathless all the way through, thank the feral gods.
Mad Dogs & Englishmen was a labor of love rather than strategy. If I have an author “brand” it’s certainly alternate history rather than alternate zoology. But I couldn’t resist the opportunity to tell a thrilling tale set in the north of England where I grew up, with a landscape and people I feel a very strong affinity with, and featuring the type of mythical beast I’ve always been fascinated by, tossing in several handfuls of gritty British crime drama to spice it up. Writing Mad Dogs & Englishmen really felt very natural … which is perhaps a little scary in itself.
The Page 69 Test: Clash of Eagles.
The Page 69 Test: Eagle in Exile.
The Page 69 Test: Eagle and Empire.
Writers Read: Alan Smale.
--Marshal Zeringue
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