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

Dalton's accelerated flightiness since that day made her nervous. He no longer took to the bed – instead he slept on the floor and moaned at phantoms in his head. Slept with a dagger. Not just any dagger, but an SS honour dagger, scabbard burnished with black, some quote in German along the axis of the blade. He was the kind of man who could get such a thing. Usually kept it in a glass case, but now it was under his pillow. He said the blade was infused with the demon magic of the Third Reich. Now the dagger was missing as well – wherever he'd vanished, he'd taken it with him.

Marlee eavesdropped on his final conversation with the painting – blubbering to his mother that the village still held him in disdain. That the devil was coming to get him. And that it might already be too late. That he would no longer be able to buy her a flower-eyed grandchild from Bell – a child who would have become the true heir to the Changoor estate.

2
A Creature as Dumb as This

The three workers arrived at 8 a.m.: Baig, Robinson and Hans. Baig was part-time. Worked in the boilers at the sugar factory and was only scheduled to be at the farm three times a week. His hair sparse with growth, tucked under a tweed scally cap. He worked the crops. Weeding, pruning, taking care of the fungus and fruit flies. A boisterous man with no filter.

Robinson did the tilling, irrigation, mulching. He'd retired from his old job as a machinist and enjoyed the solace of the farm. He had a pickup of his own and often ran the errands. Seedlings, fertilisers, iron nails, plywood, dry goods, haberdashery, he knew where to get them. A wide-brimmed sun hat shaded his eyes, crimped his wavy, ash-hued hair. He was tall, his features sharp like a stray cat's. Spoke with a samaan tree baritone. Always had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his forearms rippling with muscle. Baig frequently remarked on his neat manner of dress and that more Black men should take as much pride in their appearance as he did. Robinson never entertained such remarks.

Hans was the most visible worker of the three. Marlee often lost herself gawking at him. He was fit. Rugged in all the right places. She was infatuated. That he'd spent his entire life in a barrack was a shame – but he never had that aura of filth like the other people from such a life. She had no person she considered to be a real friend and, in Hans, sensed something kindred. Something beyond lifestyle and customs.

She told the workers that Dalton had urgent business to attend to. Wasn't a lie, according to his note. It seemed simpler to say this than mention the note. Despite him being their boss, she didn't want them thinking too hard about Dalton. Telling people anything before knowing the full story herself wasn't smart. At the same time, she thought to let them discover Brahma on their own – but ultimately decided against it. She directed Hans to the coconut trees to remove the tarp. Then told Baig and Robinson about the dog. When she led them down to the cherry orchard, the wind had already started to whiff the smell of decomposition into the humid air.

'A damn shame,' said Baig, arms akimbo. 'Aint that right, pardner? A damn shame.'

'Which one that be?' asked Robinson, going for the rope.

'Like you could tell which damn dog is which.' Baig laughed.

'Look like Brahma to me.'

Marlee took a step back from the rope, giving a nod.

'How you could tell?' asked Baig, genuinely curious.

'Brahma is the only one that have that ring of black round the neck.'

Baig nodded. 'What the hell happen here anyhow? The boss forget to untie the dog? Had to be for it to end up in a state like this.'

Robinson's veins surfaced as he pulled the dog up.

'It was an accident,' was all Marlee could muster, her attention on the rope.

'A damn unlucky accident. A sin, almost.'

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.