Book Title: A Case of
Madness (Or the Curious Appearance of Holmes in the Nighttime)
Cover Artist: Ksenia
Release Date: March 20,
Genres: Adult Contemporary M/M Rom-Com
Tropes: Opposites attract, Emotional scars,
Themes: Coming out, friendship, mental illness, love
Heat Rating: 2 flames
Length: 82 000 words/272
It is a standalone book and
does not end on a cliffhanger.
Publisher | Amazon US | Amazon UK
A world-weary Sherlock
Holmes scholar loses his job and his sanity when the great detective materializes in his flat
to help solve a mystery that involves a handsome male stranger. What ensues is a thrilling
adventure in literature, London, and love.
Andrew Thomas just got sacked. He’s permanently drunk.
He’s got cancer. Is inescapably gay. Was hit by a bus. And he’s fallen in love with a stranger
whose life he saved.
As a newly-unemployed Sherlock Holmes scholar, Andrew
knows only Holmes can help him untangle the madness his life has become, but Holmes isn’t
real. Except he absolutely appeared in Andrew’s house, told him he’s in love with a man he
just met…and then in a fit of pique Andrew sent him away.
Sure Holmes is probably a hallucination or a specter or a
ghost, but now Andrew desperately needs his help. So to find the answer to his case and the
man of his dreams, Andrew takes to chasing a fictional character through London with his
very own Watson.
While strolling amid the students and scholars rushing into
the University of London, I ignored the urge to check my pocket watch.
If there was ever a day to dawdle, it was today. The first day
of summer that actually felt like the season it claimed to be. And the day of my personal
It wasn’t a ‘this train will split at the next station and you
just sat down with your meal deal’ disaster, but it was equally inconvenient. After decades of
laboring in academia, I was about to become involuntarily unemployed. Apart from that –
and this might be even more important – I was also going to die.
To delay the confrontation a bit longer, I looked for a
shaded place to smoke and then took long, luxurious drags on my cigarette. A cough
struggled to tear itself free from my chest, but I suppressed it. Not now. Focus.
Few people knew my name or my publications. But some
such people existed – people who were as fascinated by a very specific man as I was, and
who seemed to value my works more than I did. The man I wrote about lived in Baker Street,
and he was partly to blame for my situation. Though I liked to think of myself as a charmingly
anachronistic gentleman, I increasingly felt I was just a dafter in a fine suit who lurked
around public buildings. Instead of engaging in modern life, I was immersed in the world of
Sherlock Holmes and all things Victorian, with the natural effect of many acquaintances
leaving or going extinct. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the company of others; it was that I
struggled in the company of others. And they struggled in the company of me.
You see, the fact that I knew my dearest detective had
appeared on-screen in over two hundred and twenty adaptations did not give me much
hope I would find out what people did for fun. But what of fun? What about achievement?
Holmes is the most filmed novel character of all time – among humans, at least; Dracula has
been filmed even more often. This connection filled me with joy, and I believed it could be
combined in a curious way. Dracula Holmes: he investigates at night because he’s not just a
detective, no – he’s also a vampire. Greedy for blood and knowledge.
I finished my cigarette and stepped from the shadows only
to immediately collide with a young man in the most colorful trainers I’d ever seen. In a split-
second knockout victory, he fell to the ground covered in the flyers he had been holding in
his hand just seconds before.
I bent down immediately to help him. “I’m so sorry,” I said,
quickly picking up his flyers from the pavement. At least those which hadn’t fallen into the
grey puddle right next to us.
“It’s okay,” he said, and he looked at me. His blue eyes
seemed friendly though his gaze was intense.
I quickly looked down again. To my surprise, the flyers
weren’t gig announcements or takeaway adverts. In fact, they were promoting something
very dear to my heart. “I like theater,” I said, handing him back a few of the flyers. “I thought
theater was dead for young people.”
He smiled. “Most young people get run over by perfect
That’s why so few make it to the stage. Anyway…I’m still
That he was. Alive, handsome, and holding a slim stack of
remaining flyers. Slightly crumpled.
“I’m far from perfect,” I remarked, thinking of the trouble I
had caused him.
About the Author
Yvonne is a bi and nonbinary
writer who dedicates their free time to extending the secret Gay Agenda – in part through
their debut novel A Case of Madness.
Although born and raised in
the north of Germany, Yvonne’s passion for Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Who, their sassy
humor, and aversion to talking on public transport made them suspiciously British from early
As a natural matter of cause
and effect, Yvonne moved to London in 2014 and started to write (a novel for the drawer).
No word was written until 2017 when the sudden question of ‘What if I could talk to
Sherlock Holmes?’ came up to them.
Conducting PhD research in
the world’s most extensive Sherlock Holmes collection, located in Minneapolis, USA, was a
great help for answering that question. The result was not a PhD, but their debut novel
A Case of Madness,
originally written in German and in a bold move translated by the author themselves when
nobody in Germany understood a word they were saying.
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