TITLE: Charles Sampson - Paranormal Investigator
GENRE: YA Detective / Magical Realism
Autumn was over. The leaves had turned and the light of the sun was slowly dimming as it hung over Whitegrove. The weather could not keep people from their business across the streets, and life continued as normal as the cold set in. A large rook hopped along the roof of one of the busier establishments. A wooden sign hung high and declared it to be called the Chambers Club, home to various ways of losing ones money and senses. A loud bang on a table inside startled the rook and it took to a hasty flight.
Smoke hung in the air of the Chambers Club, floating lazily across the card table and around it's five occupants. Only two men were left in the game. They sat opposite each other in silence with a small array of coins in between them. The first man kept his eyes calmly locked on his opponent who couldn't seem to decide between looking at his cards, his money or the man across the ocean of wood. The silence around the table was broken by the man with nervous eyes,
“Damn it, Sampson, you must be bluffing. You can't have a winning hand again.” He struggled to hide the agitation in his voice, his thin moustache quivering as he spoke.
“That did not sound like a wager to me, Davenport.” Their eyes were locked now. Davenport looked torn between folding and betting.