A dark journey through madness...
Publication Date: May 30, 2014
Genre: Psychological Thriller
The Point is a dark thriller that will allow you to witness a truly dangerous sociopath wander through madness guided by a treasured family heirloom, and a pensive young woman find her way after discovering, that which doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. With echoes of the Coen brothers’ Fargo, the folksy town of Iron Bay and the nearby north-woods community of Deer Lake are the destinations for Mr. Buchman’s many misdeeds.
G. Nykanen was born and raised in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. This small, rural land mass seems to cultivate a wide variety of colorful characters who provide a plethora of inspiration. The Point, Nykanen’s first novel, is filled with nuances of these local characters and the landscapes one might find in the north woods.
G. Nykanen was born and raised in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. This small, rural land mass seems to cultivate a wide variety of colorful characters who provide a plethora of inspiration. The Point, Nykanen’s first novel, is filled with nuances of these local characters and the landscapes one might find in the north woods.
Well traveled thanks to her husband’s government career, she has lived in Europe and many of our United States over the last twenty years. She has recently returned home, moving back to her beloved Upper Peninsula where she resides with her husband and three children.
With The Point now completed, she will continue working on her next novel, Accumulation, along with continuing to develop other stories in the works.
Sneak Peak
She kept Jake tucked in the back of her mind, her loneliness masked by the company she was keeping with Dane.
Two weeks had passed and the budding relationship seemed to consist of brief phone calls and intensely physical escapades, which were great. Who doesn’t like rolling around on the beach in the dark, Nora thought as she stirred milk into her Darjeeling. Her hand continued to blend, the spoon clinking slowly and methodically against the bottom of the ceramic cup. She stared blankly into the rolling eyes of the Kit-Kat clock. He makes me feel incredible when we’re together, but I feel so empty when it’s over…I need substance. She stopped stirring, realizing she’d drifted off.
“Why are you always judging me?” she snapped at the smug plastic feline, her stirring hand now jabbing the spoon in its direction.
The Kat continued to arbitrate, his tail wagging with a tsk-tsk, like the finger of a grandmother in mid-scold.
“I know, I know,” she conceded to the ticking custodian, her conscience burdened by the sins of her flesh. I need to stop being such a slut, she thought, unwilling to say that out loud (especially in front of the Kat).
“I just need to talk to him…clear this whole situation up.”
Nora set the cup in the sink and grabbed her keys. “Be back soon,” she assured Badger, who was licking crumbs from under the table. “And keep an eye on that Kat until I get back,” she ordered, with her thumb pointing in the clock’s direction.
“We’ll continue this when I get back,” she stated to the Kat with rebuke, her palm flat and moving in a circular motion, a gesture meant to clarify what this encompassed.
She was still thinking about the cold, rolling eyes of the Kit-Kat clock as she rounded the block to Dane’s house. Her mother had found that clock in one of the local shops. “Don’t you just love the curious look on his face?” she asked, like she already knew the answer. “Its like he sees and knows all.”
Two weeks had passed and the budding relationship seemed to consist of brief phone calls and intensely physical escapades, which were great. Who doesn’t like rolling around on the beach in the dark, Nora thought as she stirred milk into her Darjeeling. Her hand continued to blend, the spoon clinking slowly and methodically against the bottom of the ceramic cup. She stared blankly into the rolling eyes of the Kit-Kat clock. He makes me feel incredible when we’re together, but I feel so empty when it’s over…I need substance. She stopped stirring, realizing she’d drifted off.
“Why are you always judging me?” she snapped at the smug plastic feline, her stirring hand now jabbing the spoon in its direction.
The Kat continued to arbitrate, his tail wagging with a tsk-tsk, like the finger of a grandmother in mid-scold.
“I know, I know,” she conceded to the ticking custodian, her conscience burdened by the sins of her flesh. I need to stop being such a slut, she thought, unwilling to say that out loud (especially in front of the Kat).
“I just need to talk to him…clear this whole situation up.”
Nora set the cup in the sink and grabbed her keys. “Be back soon,” she assured Badger, who was licking crumbs from under the table. “And keep an eye on that Kat until I get back,” she ordered, with her thumb pointing in the clock’s direction.
“We’ll continue this when I get back,” she stated to the Kat with rebuke, her palm flat and moving in a circular motion, a gesture meant to clarify what this encompassed.
She was still thinking about the cold, rolling eyes of the Kit-Kat clock as she rounded the block to Dane’s house. Her mother had found that clock in one of the local shops. “Don’t you just love the curious look on his face?” she asked, like she already knew the answer. “Its like he sees and knows all.”
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