Simian Knight PI had been shot at once before. Well, not technically shot at, but the bullet had gone past his head. Well, not really past his head, inasmuch as it went past his office building and embedded itself in someone’s car. It didn’t so much embed in the car as bounce off, as it was one of those foam bullets kids stuff in the end of play guns and run around going, “Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da” with. But the whole unsavoury episode had unsettled Simian Knight PI so much that he became a recluse, took to drinking herbal tea and watching reruns of Downton Abbey until he dreamed of butlers.
That was a long time ago, and he got over it. Now he must face his biggest challenge, when a beautiful blonde dame waltzes into his office asking for his help. The trouble is, Simian Knight PI can never say no to a beautiful blonde dame, even if helping her means going up against the mob. Not to mention all the Greek Gods knocking about the city, too. It’s his toughest case yet, and it just might be his last, which would be a shame as there’s plenty of potential for a sequel.
Dark bleatings, my godly tribe.
So…I….what is it about Millard’s book that always make me so speechless? This isn’t horror but I do want to briefly review it here because it was quite the experience. Things must be said, if I can ever untie my tongue.
Private Investigator, Simian Knight, is the kind of dude that wants to protect himself above all else, unless there’s a really hot woman involved and a potential pile of cash, so his priorities are prone to wavering. In this snippet of this character’s life, we are treated to several gods and their issues, human gangsters, and the calamity that is Simian Knight navigating through their silliness.
This novel provides mob madness, gods and their petty disputes, the merging of these worlds, a PI that knows what he’s doing but also doesn’t know his ass from his elbow, and Millard’s signature brand of comedy. We get such classic details as this opening line:
“Our story begins, as many do, with a drunken fox playing chess with an angry squirrel in a dark alleyway.”
and choices such as including footnotes at the bottom of several pages, which the author uses to *checks notes* break the fourth wall with absurd (untrue) statements about real world things and – my favourite – critique his own writing.
Reading this was – I’d imagine – much like dropping a huge load of acid, falling asleep watching Thor, and then having a nightmare about being Saul Goodman. It’s a good time.
If you’d like to check out the author or the book, I’ve popped some links below for you:
Bleeeeeat!
Happy Goat Horror 
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