Excerpt from Hungry Ghosts by Kevin Jared Hosein, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Every half hour until sunrise, she got up to check the window. Nothing each time. She began to wonder if she'd seen anything in the first place. Maybe she was just paranoid. In the daylight, there was nothing there. She made Ceylon tea, went to the porch. Vishnu trotted up to her. She could see Shiva in the middle of the grounds, on his side. Nervous, she whistled for the dog's attention.

But there was no reply.

Snapped her fingers and called its name. Nothing.

There is usually the moment at the betokening of horror, where one simultaneously accepts and rejects it. Where two worlds blend into one. The gradient of the shadow where light and dark meet, where time slows and hope cowers. A closing slit in the deep promise of pessimism. Where a long-sick child on a bed has croaked and wheezed themself to sleep – or something deeper than sleep. The long silence that follows. That silence came for Marlee, and in that silence was the promise of coming darkness.

She set the tea down on the white rattan table, sat upright for a pensive half minute, knowing better than to snap her fingers once more. Forced herself to get up and walked to the lying dog, its brother trailing behind. Before she could see its face, that same smell of decomposition hit her.

The dog had ejected the watery contents of its entire gut. The fur on its rear and tail were matted with it. A long, broken trail of it on the grass. Somebody had poisoned this dog.

She ran into the house and locked the door before realising that the workmen were soon scheduled to arrive. Kept a lookout from the bedroom window. Thankfully, it took only a matter of minutes until a pickup pulled up at the gate. Robinson and Hans. When Marlee came up to them, they looked at her with aged weariness in their eyes. She led them to the dead dog.

Hans knelt beside it to inspect it. 'What happen here?'

Marlee kept her distance because of the smell. 'I woke up, found him like this.'

He stroked its ears as if it were his own. A long pause before Marlee uttered, 'I think somebody—'

'Christ in heaven, my brain jump out my head,' Robinson muttered suddenly.

She paused. 'What do you mean?'

'When I bury Brahma, I didn't think to whistle them damn dogs back up. I left them there. Them dogs aint accustom going down there like that.'

Hans covered his mouth, in shock.

Marlee narrowed her eyes, overwhelmed. 'What are you talking about, Robinson?'

'Apologies, ma'am. I'm saying I shoulda clear that area up before leaving. Now look and what gone and happen.'

Hans got up. 'He sayin that the dog probably eat the cherries.'

Robinson turned to Vishnu and then uttered in a worrisome tone, 'I wonder if this other fella was foolish enough to do the same thing. God have mercy!'

Marlee's eyes fluttered. 'The Surinam cherries did this?'

Robinson explained, 'Them cherries does kill dogs. One or two, no. But a handful is serious problems. The dog bowels done blow up there. Is like senna tea for them, but worse. Much worse. I know a fella from church. Drink a whole case of senna tea. Dead on the floor, you know!' He got on his feet. 'Mrs Changoor, if you don't mind me sayin so, I think you need to watch yourself. Bad luck is one thing. But it look like somebody put the maljeaux on you. We should ask Reverend Kissoon for a blessing.'

'Is nobody fault,' Hans said, scratching his head. 'Right?' As if he himself needed convincing.

Marlee pursed her lips, wary of the consolation that this was yet another accidental death. A mirage of hope in the quickly gathering darkness. She didn't want to fool herself. Or else she would be no different from this dog, having shat itself to death.

Robinson in a resigned tone, 'Suppose I gonna have to bury this one too then.'

'I'm sorry. I know it's early ...'

'You should say a nice word for this one then,' he said sternly.

Excerpted from Hungry Ghosts by Kevin Jared Hosein. Copyright © 2023 by Kevin Jared Hosein. Excerpted by permission of Ecco. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.