Enigmatic Zeke Olsen has everything he ever wanted. A well-paid job, a beautiful wife, close friends, and a baby on the way. Fumbling his way through a traumatic childhood, heâd carved out the existence of his dreams. His life is perfect until a business trip to New York brings about a catastrophic turn of events.
Zeke returns home and finds his life spiralling out of control, battling his memory, addiction, and pain. He struggles to grasp what happened, who he is, and what he is capable of. His dream slowly fades into a nightmare and unravels chaotically around him.
A boundary-crossing dark, psychological thriller that will keep you guessing as you ask yourself, how well do you know really know anyone?
Enigmatic Zeke Olsen has everything he ever wanted. A well-paid job, a beautiful wife, close friends, and a baby on the way. Fumbling his way through a traumatic childhood, heâd carved out the existence of his dreams. His life is perfect until a business trip to New York brings about a catastrophic turn of events.
Zeke returns home and finds his life spiralling out of control, battling his memory, addiction, and pain. He struggles to grasp what happened, who he is, and what he is capable of. His dream slowly fades into a nightmare and unravels chaotically around him.
A boundary-crossing dark, psychological thriller that will keep you guessing as you ask yourself, how well do you know really know anyone?
1
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âHold up, hold up, Karan!â Ray yelled. He stood with one arm propped against a building in the cold alleyway as he took a sip from the lukewarm lager. âDude, stop a second, will ya? I gotta take a leak,â he said.
âRay, no!â Karan jerked around, scowling. âCome on, not here. Not now! Youâre better than pissing in alleyways!â
âIâm not. Iâm really not.â Ray shrugged. âEspecially when itâs a matter of life or death.â
Karan shook his head. âCome onâI said weâd be there at eight!â
Rayâs hand moved from the wall and his frozen fingers grasped his zipper. âAs if Zekeâs ever been on time for anything in his life? He probably doesnât even know what time it is!â He let his trousers slide down and drop to his ankles and continued to drink stale beer as urine trickled. Then the dam burst, and his desperation was relieved. âAhhh!â
Karan stared at the vintage watch on his wrist. âDude, hurry up! I swear, five minutes, and weâll be at Zekeâs, and you can piss all over his toilet seats.â
âCalm down, Tonto. Youâll see the new place soon. Just hold your horses, will you?
 With his bare bottom exposed, the light caught Karanâs attention, and he shifted his gaze. Starting at the zip, he slowly raised his eyes. As they ascended, he got the briefest glimpse of Rayâs crown jewels, but it was taboo, so he looked away. Ray continued to pee as he drank. Karan turned his back and let out an indulgent âsighâ. He should have been frustrated, but he knew his buddy all too well.
A few feet away, Ray lingered in limbo. As the liquid vacated him like a powerful hose tossed on a lawn.
There was a splatter as warm urine hit the ground, like blood coursing from an artery. Ray was emptying himself one way or another. Urine or blood? It could be either.
The golden, beery respite released like furious demons desperately fleeing hell; it was one of lifeâs most fundamental tasks yet such a simple pleasure!
Karan paused in the dark with his back turned to refrain from the lure of another glimpse of Rayâs manhood. He glanced up at the night sky and took in the scene. The alley was cobbled, reminiscent of a German market town, but it wasnât Germany; it was the South of England in September, and the weather had grown particularly torrid. The ferocious wind howled down the stark stone walls that served only to funnel its fury like a pack of tortured wolves ringing into Karanâs ears. He shuddered. The sound was unnerving.
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Karan strolled to the end of the tunnel and noticed a vehicle mirror, and he paused to look becoming trapped alone in a bubble of his noise. Stuck in his reflection. He looked at it and saw Ray in the background, forcing him to juxtapose the two of them. They were of similar age, both mid-forties, but if you had to guess, Ray was the one who looked it!
 Ray was destined to be bald from birth, and his metabolism had long since abandoned ship. A hedonistic lifestyle of sausage rolls, pork pies, and ale was catching up with him, but somehow it worked. His height, bulk, and rugged good looks had given him a stocky appearance. People naturally assumed he was a hard man and wouldnât trifle him. He wasnât ill-intentioned, but a lifetime of losing meant he revelled in his newfound glory.
 Ray was a knowledgeable chemist, and no idiot, but fidelity and diplomacy were skills that sorely eluded him. He was the owner of many failed relationships. Yet, despite his detractors, something about his mid-forties âmanâ look aided him in his quest to sleep his way through the local population of youthful females.
In contrast, Karan was boyish in complexion, tall, and lean. His parents had emigrated from India as betrothed children, and he had a naturally darker skin tone. A reason oft used by Ray when it came to explanations as to why Karan looked so much younger. A sentiment Karan would repeatedly do his best to ignore, given its wild cultural unacceptability. The truth was he did look younger. But it had everything to do with their difference in lifestyles and body maintenance and absolutely nothing to do with his ancestry.
Karan and his husband Ivan both ate, drank, and socialised vigorously. But when they werenât, they were dedicated to living a holistic lifestyle that included gym, swim, spa, massages, and spin classes. In comparison, Ray spent his free time eating, drinking, fucking, or watching the History Channel. Karanâs only tell-tale sign of his age was the greying of his otherwise exceptionally black hair. But it consolidated his look, and there was little to suggest that he wasnât closer to twenty than fifty.
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After an eternity of piss Ray finally finished, pulled his clothes back up and opened his mouth as he closed his zip.
âRemind me again why weâre going?â
âWe are going to see our friend,â chastened Karan.
âHmmm,â a noise by way of reply. âMore your friend than mine.â
âShut up! Weâve known Zeke almost as long.â
âKnowing someone doesnât make them my friend,â said Ray. âWere it not for you, I donât think Iâd see him at all!â
âOh, now thatâs just the beer talking. How many have you had?â
âSpeaking of knowing him, does anyone know Zeke? I mean, do you? Really?â Ray continued as he waved his arms wildly in the air.
âWhat are you talking about?â
âZeke,â replied Ray. âHeâs in there, but he isnât! I stare into those eyes, and I see nothing. Itâs just a blank slate that stares back at me. The guyâs pathological.â
âIf by âpathologicalâ you mean he calls you on your shit?â replied Karan. âThen youâre right!
âAnyway, you love telling the blank slate story.â
âTabula rasa? Yeah, thatâs because itâs weird!â Ray replied. âHa-ha, anyway donât get me started on that evening. That was the night you made me meet him!â
âHey, you brought up blank slates! Anyway, the guy is perfectly normal, happily married, child on the way.â
âHappily married,â muttered Ray. He shook his head towards Karanâs platitude. A movement laced with cynicism and perhaps a nod towards his failed marriages.
âIf anyoneâs weird, itâs you,â Karan said, facing him. âYouâre pathologically incapable of being happy.â
âIâm just saying,â continued Ray. âIf your gut tells you something is off, it is! Do you know how many prescriptions I fill with that manâs name?â
âYouâre drunk. Zekeâs cool, man, and you know it! When you dislike someone, you usually dislike the part that doesnât resonate with yourself.â
 âSave the psychobabble for school!â Words uttered, Ray, caught up with his friend, snuck up on him and barged into his side playfully.
âWell, weâre waiting on you now,â Ray joked as he turned about and ruffled Karanâs hair as he walked away. Head ruffled; Karan glanced up at his scalp.
âEww.â
Oblivious to his friendsâ protests, Ray walked, talked, and drank. Warm beer dripped onto his t-shirt and fell towards the floor, a beery tear that fell like blood and smashed and broke on the cold concrete.
âAnyway, he says weird thimgs!â The mispronounced words fell out of Rayâs mouth as he oafishly multitasked.
âWell, if he does, at least he can pronounce the word âthingsâ,â Karan replied as he caught up to his buddy. âAnyway, Zeke is complicated. You would be too if youâd been through as much trauma as he has! Cheer up, you grouch. Weâre off to see friends, drinkââ Karanâs own words trailed off as he snatched the lager from Rayâs hand and stole a sip before his friend could protest. âEugh, thatâs warm,â Karan proclaimed, shuddering as he let the lukewarm liquid glide past his lips.
âWell, itâs yours now,â Ray beamed with a bullish smile.
They turned left at the end and disappeared into the darkness, their voices now just an echo that danced into the night. In the background, Rayâs warm urine pooled like blood as it trickled down the cold stone towards the drain.
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Stood at the perimeter gate, the duo huddled side by side. The journey (time that included Rayâs pit stop) had taken forty-five minutes.
âFifteen minutes.â Ray had said as they left his house on foot. They were cold, shivery, and keen to escape the elements. Yet as they entered the gate, they stopped and turned to each other, both sets of eyes aghast as they took in the vision.
âWoah,â said Ray.
âFucking Woah, you mean?â It reminded Karan of a secret hideaway an eccentric Bond villain would own.
âWhat did you say Zeke did for a living?â asked an unusually speechless Ray.
âErm, art dealer?â Karan answered.
Ray eyed up the converted barn before he replied, âArms dealer more like.â
Karan laughed, still barely able to believe his senses. He had seen some of the renovations but had little interest in visiting the Olsenâs construction site/fuck den. Outside of social occasions, he hadnât seen much of them since they bought the land. No one really had. Sometimes it annoyed him, but he knew he was probably jealous of their marital bliss.
To Ray, marriage was a disaster and to Karan a vacancy. His husband Ivan ran a pharmaceutical company and travelled regularly, often, frequently, usually, mostly. There were many ways to phrase it, but Ivan was typically in absentia.
âWe should enter,â Karan said to Ray. His words were laced with a tinge of anxiety. Theyâd been stood for an excessive amount of time, and the silence had only grown louder.
The main building loomed before them. A behemoth, incandescent before their eyes. It was no longer the dilapidated, small, ancient barn. It had come a long way.
The day after theyâd purchased it, Zeke had insisted that Karan came to see it. Heâd told him all about it, their plans, and what they would do with it. Zeke even made Karan go inside. He itched every time the memory was recollected in his brain, forever scattered across his mind. He was scared of what it could have been, but now he feared what it was. It was irrational. But isnât that what fear is? Irrational?
 Karan had dreaded an evening in a small, dirty barn. This, however, was not that! It was a stunning duplex, contemporary and old, stylish, and shabby. It was both modern chic and intimidatingly cool. Karan knew Zeke made good money, but this was something else. Â
They had kept a few of the original wooden beams and filled them with humongous windows. Panes that featured hefty metal shutters, primed and ready to slide across. They stood on duty like an executioner, hovering over the axe. LED lights shone out from behind the windows like a lighthouse. Karan looked at the shutters once more and felt uneasy. Could they keep people out? Or trap them inside?
The compound contained the main house, a garage, and an annexe. Beyond that, there was only land for miles, an open field that met a tall electric fence. It had once seemed like a never-ending project. But now it was complete. It was almost incomprehensible.
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They reached the front door and hovered in darkness for too long until Karan stepped forward and pressed the doorbell. The circular button illuminated at the edges and changed colour as it spun. It reminded him of a Catherine wheel, but the light came without sound as he stood captivated. They were trapped in a bubble, waiting, had the doorbell rung? Did anyone know they were here? Ray stepped forward and prepared to wrap his fists against the robust metal door. But as he balled his hand and readied for an attack, the door creaked before swinging open like a safe vault. They remained lifeless as their senses were assaulted by lights, sights, smells, and sounds. The visceral, sensual attack on their wits landed mere moments apart. It left their brains attempting to decipher and take it all in at once. From complete silence and relative darkness, they found themselves momentarily stunned.
Zekeâs figure appeared like a mirage as the door rolled open. His intimidating frame loomed and hung in the entrance. He was of average height but muscular in build, dressed in shorts, a vest, and flip-flops, which showed large chunks of his tattooed body. He registered the pair and ran his hands through his jet-black hair. His bright blue eyes glared at them menacingly before a smile appeared and etched itself slowly over his face.
âGuysss,â he said excitedly as he stretched out his muscular frame to accommodate a double hug.
Keen to enter the Elysium but unable to avoid the clutches of the outstretched armed giant, they entered awkwardly in unison, immediately finding themselves trapped in a bear-like hug.
âKaran, Ray,â Zeke exclaimed excitedly.Â
After almost having the life physically squeezed out of them, they were set down by Zeke, who addressed them individually. He took Karan first and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders.
âKaran,â he asked. âHowâs Ivan?â
âHeâs good, Zeke, heâs good.â
âAnd how are you?â
âIâmââ
Zeke immediately turned his attention to Ray and lunged toward him. He clutched at his arms in a movement that almost physically raised him.
âAnd Ray,â he said, âyou smell like beer.â
âBrought one for the road,â Ray replied.
âNaturally, who doesnât? That must have been some journey!â Zeke then stared at him inquisitively. âBut the real question is do you smell too much like beer or not enough?â
 âNever enough, buddy, never enough,â Ray answered. He snuck past his host and sauntered away. Having made his escape, he turned back towards Karan. Their eyes connected just long enough for Ray to spin his finger around his ear and mouth the words âcrazyâ while pointing at Zeke.
Karan chuckled and rolled his eyes simultaneously before stepping in and disrobing.
âRay being Ray?â Zeke asked.
Karan nodded. âYou know how he is after a few?â
âAbsolutely,â replied Zeke. âStill, we canât have a housewarming party without his brand of charm, can we?â
âHe does have a certain je ne sais quoi!â replied Karan. Having entered and prised himself from the long grey trench coat, Karan found a nearby hook and hung it neatly inside the front door.
âDigging the place,â Karan said, turning towards his host. Zeke grinned.
âItâs cool, isnât it?â
âBuddy, cool doesnât even cut it. I love the garage.â
âWait until you see whatâs inside it.â
âYou got the GTA?â Zeke smiled some more.
âAmong others.â
âDude, I gotta see! Those things cost a fortune. Do you remember looking them up online years ago?â he asked rhetorically.
âAll in good time, my friend. Come, let me show you around.â
âHowâs Cassie?â Karan asked as they walked.
âAt her mother's,â replied Zeke.
âOh!â
âAh, itâs nothing. Iâm away in the morning.â
âBut itâs your housewarming! Itâs unlike Cassie to miss a soirĂ©e.â
âSheâs pregnant. And youâre welcome!â he said, hitting Karan playfully on the arm. âYouâre not missing out. Itâs mood swing city! Anyway, take a deep breath, and look around you. Itâs like a scene from Scarface in here. I know itâs still inside of her, but this is no place for my baby.â
 Karan laughed, âDuh, of course. Although presumably less blood and machine guns?â
âFor now,â Zeke replied, winking at him.
âThe funny thing is, I wouldnât put it past you.â Karan laughed. âZeke Olsen, the man who can get you anything.â
âCheers to that,â replied Zeke.
Karan paused before moving the conversation along, âNew York, right?â
Zeke clicked his fingers in Karanâs direction. âThatâs the one!â
âWhat is it you do when youâre out there again?â
âThe magic is in the art, my friend.â
Karan cocked an eyebrow and looked at Zeke. âCome on!â
âIâve told you a thousand times, buddy! Anyway,â he said, placing his arm around Karanâs shoulder, âLetâs not talk about work now, itâs playtime. Letâs go upstairs. You two were the last to arrive.â
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I was intrigued by the title âTabula Rasaâ (a clean slate) The author has a fast-paced, quirky writing style which works well for this genre and the setting he has chosen.
Zeke Olsen is happily married to Cassie and they are expecting a baby. When Zeke travels to New York for business, he finds himself implicated in murdering several men. At this point, it is unclear to the reader whether he is responsible. The fact that he had dissociative amnesia meant that any scenario would have been possible. I felt invested in Zekeâs journey and found myself willing him not to get involved romantically with his colleague, Lara, and not to have been involved in the murders. The supporting characters were well-written and formed an integral part of the storyline, particularly Zekeâs close friend, Karan.
âAll personal effects should be removed before engaging in any potentially murderous activity.â This made me smile. The possibility of evidence remaining on Zekeâs ring was an interesting thread and the reader could feel that there was something not quite right about the situation. I became more engrossed as the story unfolded and had my own theory about what was going on. The author cleverly drip-fed enough information to keep you guessing but not enough to make it obvious, thus making the reveal at the end even more dramatic.
Hidden amongst the drama is some beautiful writing. For example, when talking about his daughter, Zeke says âshe was a blank canvas, and he had no idea how to paint it.â Â The detailed descriptions of setting also helped bring the story to life. I liked the authorâs thoughts that to âfollowâ someone in real life is âinsidious and borderline creepyâ whereas to do so online is commonplace nowadays- perhaps a premise for another novel?
One small note would be that Zeke and Cassie agreed to begin âCaraâsâ name with a C not a K, but she is referred to as Kara. At the beginning, I felt that the authorâs narrative with a wide range of descriptive vocabulary perhaps contrasted too much with the more colloquial dialogue of the characters. Â With its strong characters and well-structured plot, I feel the novel lends itself to a successful drama series. I will have no hesitation in recommending this read.