[SNEAK PEEK] SEKAKI PAYUNG MERAH JAMBU

Sekaki Payung Merah Jambu Oleh Orked V

 

SEPANJANG menaiki LRT hingga tiba ke tempat kerjanya tadi, Jaja masih terbayang-bayang lagi peristiwa semalam. Dia gelisah dan bimbang. Adakah Aim pulang dengan selamat? Adakah dia masih sakit lagi?

Namun, dia juga bingung kenapa dia perlu gelisah dan bimbang. Semua ini menyebabkan dia rasa tidak sedap hati. Kenapa mamat kerek itu juga mengganggu fikirannya?

“Nampak sedap. Apa benda ni?” tanya Jamie apabila membuka bekas Tupperware yang dibawa oleh Jaja.

“Quiche.” Jawab Jaja sepatah sambil menongkat dagu di atas meja pantri.

“Apa? Kuch? Macam Kuch Kuch Hota Hai tu ke?” Agaknya itu kali pertama Jamie mendengarnya. Bunyinya kedengaran tidak sesuai dengan bentuk kuih di depannya. Dia membelek-belek dan menghidunya sebelum meletakkan semula di dalam Tupperware.

“Apa-apalah. Janji boleh makan dan halal.” Jaja malas hendak mengulas lanjut. Dia sedang kusut dengan fikirannya sendiri dan malas mahu melayan Jamie.

“Oh, baru aku tahu Kuch Kuch Hota Hai tu asalnya nama kuih,” kata Jamie polos. Dia akhirnya mengambil sebiji dan mencubanya.

“Emm, sedap. Kau buat ke?” komen Jamie. Dia sudah menghabiskan sebiji dan sedang mengambil sebiji lagi di dalam bekas Tupperware tersebut.

“Taklah. Roommate aku yang buat,” jawab Jaja dengan malas.

Tidak lama kemudian, Kak Ana pula masuk bilik tersebut untuk rehat bersama mereka.

“Apa yang kau orang makan ni?” tegur Kak Ana.

“Kuih Kuch Kuch Hota Hai,” jawab Jamie dengan lurusnya.

“Hah? Kuih Kuch Kuch Hota Hai? Jamie ni biar betul?” Kak Ana mendekati mereka dan menjenguk isi bekas tersebut.

“Oh, kuih ni,” ulas Kak Ana. “Bukan Kuch Kuch Hota Hai, tapi quiche.”

“Macam sama aje.” Jamie mencemik.

“Mana sama, Jamie. Suka hati aje menambah yang bukan-bukan.” Kak Ana geleng kepala.

“Orang mana tau.” Jamie membela diri. “Jaja buat ke ni?” tanya Kak Ana.

“Taklah. Kawan serumah Jaja yang buat. Jaja tolong sikit-sikit saja. Jaja ni manalah reti masak resipi yang pelik-pelik ni,” jawab Jaja.

“Mana pula pelik? Ini kan biasa.” Kak Ana geleng kepala. “Rajinnya buat kuih. Bila buat?”

“Malam tadi.”

“Ada masa pula buat ni.”

“Saja-saja buat. Kawan Jaja tu kalau rasa stres, dia masuk dapur buat makanan.”

“Oh, bagusnya kawan kau tu,” komen Jamie sambil menelan kuih yang ada di dalam mulutnya.

“Jaja, dah siap ke baju Fatty tu?” tanya Kak Ana.

“Dah siap dah. Tinggal dia datang ambil saja.”

“Hari tu cuba baju macam mana?”

“Cerewet. Semua tak kena. Dia kata baju tu longgar,” jawab Jamie.

“Longgar? Akak rasa baju tu okey dah dengan dia.”

“Kak, dia tu kan kurus. Dia mestilah nak tunjuk aset dia.” Tukas Jamie sambil mencebik.

“Hesy! Mulut. Dia kan pelanggan kita, tak baik cakap macam tu, Jamie. Kita kenalah ikut keselesaan pelanggan,” tegur Kak Ana. Jamie hanya sengih sambil sambung makan.

“Lama juga kami pujuk dia supaya setuju dengan baju tu. Baju tu memang dah padan dengan dia, nak kecilkan macam mana lagi. Kalau kecilkan lagi, nampak macam nangka bungkuslah pula,” kata Jaja.

“Nasib baik juga PA Fatty tu kata yang baju tu sangat sesuai dan sangat ‘kena’ dengan bentuk badan Fatty tu. Kalau tak, mesti Fatty nak juga kecilkan baju tu. Hei, tak fahamlah aku dengan selera orang ni. Yang elok nampak buruk, yang buruk itulah orang selalu tengok elok,” sampuk Jamie pula.

“Tapi yang bagusnya, dia suka dengan perincian manik yang Jaja buat tu.” Beritahu Jaja sambil tersenyum gembira. Sekurang-kurangnya, apabila ada orang yang memuji hasil kerjanya, bolehlah dia berasa bangga. Terlupa sebentar perkara yang mengganggu fikirannya tadi.

“Jaja mesti rasa puas hati dapat beri perkhidmatan yang baik kepada pelanggan, kan?” tanya Kak Ana.

“Yalah. Walaupun pelanggan cerewet mana pun, kalau kita dapat beri apa yang mereka nak, mereka mesti akan gembira. Jaja rasa puas hati dapat beri mereka kepuasan. Jaja tengok Fatty senyum pun dah rasa puas hati sebab Jaja rasa macam dah buat sumbangan besar dalam majlis dia nanti.”

“Itulah, walau penat macam mana pun, akak masih kerja di butik ni. Akak puas hati kalau pelanggan bangga dapat pakai pakaian dari butik ni.” Kak Ana tersenyum.

Tiba-tiba, telefon bimbitnya berbunyi. Jaja melihat nama pemanggil.

“Assalamualaikum. Kenapa Faiz? Hah, depan butik?”

SEBAIK KELUAR dari butik tersebut, dilihatnya Faiz telah menunggu di hadapan keretanya. Melihat kelibat Jaja yang sedang menghampirinya, Faiz melempar senyum.

“Surprise?” tanya Faiz setelah Jaja berada di hadapannya.

“Tak juga,” jawab Jaja bersahaja. Dalam hati, dia sebaliknya memang terkejut apabila Faiz menelefon dan memberitahu sudah berada di depan butik untuk berjumpa dengannya.

“I tahu ni masa rehat you. Sebab tu I datang.”

“Ada apa, ni?”

“Pergi makanlah, apa lagi.”

“Masa rehat I tak lama. Nanti pergi makan dengan you, lambat pula I masuk kerja,” kata Jaja. Dia sebenarnya malas mahu keluar makan. Lebih-lebih lagi dengan Faiz. Dia sedang serabut memikirkan perkara yang baru sahaja terjadi baru-baru ini dan dia tidak perlukan Faiz untuk menambah beban fikirannya lagi.

Faiz tertawa mendengar alasan Jaja.

Jaja kerut dahi melihat reaksi Faiz yang tiba-tiba itu.

“Oh, I baru teringat. You kan sangat menepati masa. I memang kagum dengan you tentang hal ini sejak dulu lagi.”

“So?” soal Jaja.

“I dah sampai sini, kan. Takkan you nak suruh I balik, kut?” duga Faiz.

Kalau boleh memang itu yang Jaja mahu, tapi tidak manis pula kalau dia menyuarakannya.

“Kita bukan makan dekat tempat jauh pun. Dekat-dekat sini aje. Lagipun I ada benda nak bincang dengan you,” kata Faiz lagi.

“Penting ke?”

“You memang tak nak makan dengan I ke? Teruk sangat ke I ni sampai you tak nak jumpa dengan I?” Nada suara Faiz sudah berubah.

“Bukan tu maksud I, tapi…” kata-kata Jaja terhenti apabila terdengar namanya dipanggil. Dia menoleh dan kelihatan Jamie di pintu butik.

“Jaja, ada panggilan daripada wedding planner Fatty. Dia kata urgent!” laung Jamie.

“Hah, wedding planner Fatty? Sejak bila… err, suruh dia tunggu kejap,” jawab Jaja.

“Cepat sikit tau,” katanya lagi sebelum menghilang ke dalam. Jaja memandang Faiz semula.

“Tengok, I bukan tak nak keluar dengan you,” kata Jaja kepada Faiz. Faiz menarik nafas dalam-dalam.

“Of course, kerja you tak sama dengan I. I tak sepatutnya datang. Sorry ganggu you.” Faiz memusing tubuh.

Jaja berasa berbelah bahagi dan mula rasa bersalah. “Faiz…” panggilnya.

Faiz menoleh ke arah Jaja semula.

“Bukan kata you tak boleh datang tapi bagi tahu awal-awal dengan I dulu. Baru I boleh urus siapa yang ganti tempat I kalau ada apa-apa hal nanti,” kata Jaja.

“Of course,” jawab Faiz sambil jongket bahu. “Okey. Lepas waktu kerja nanti, you telefon I semula. Atau I telefon you. Okey?”

“Pergi makan?”

“Yup. Tapi tak nak pergi jauh, okey?”

“Okey. See you then,” kata Faiz sambil tersenyum.

“Okey, assalamualaikum.”

“Wa’alaikumsalam.”

Sebaik kereta Faiz berlalu, Jaja cepat-cepat masuk ke dalam butik dan mencari Jamie. Apabila tidak kelihatan Jamie di ruang kerja, dia mencari Jamie di dalam pantri. Kelihatan Jamie sedang menjamah nasi bungkus.

“Jamie, betul ke ada call untuk aku?” tanya Jaja.

“Mana ada. Aku tipulah tadi.” Jawab Jamie sambil tersengih.

Jaja menarik nafas lega. “Tapi gaya kau tadi macam betul.”

“Kau ingat ada ke wedding planner yang nak telefon kau yang baru setahun jagung dekat sini? Baik dia telefon Cik Kira,” kata Jamie.

“Itulah. Aku rasa Fatty tak ada wedding planner sebab dia buat sendiri. Terkejut pula aku tadi,” kata Jaja sambil membuka peti ais.

“Ala, bukan cik abang kau tu tahu siapa Fatty tu. Janji aku dah selamatkan kau,” kata Jamie.

“Yalah, terima kasih.” Jaja menarik sebuah botol air dari dalam peti sejuk dan menuang isinya ke dalam sebuah cawan.

“Jadi, aku memang berbakat dalam lakonan, kan?” tambah Jamie lagi sambil tersengih lebar.

“Ceh, masuk bakul angkat sendiri.” Jaja mencebik.

“Kenapa Jaja nak mengelak daripada dia?” tanya Kak Ana yang masuk semula ke pantri.

Tadi, sebaik menerima panggilan Faiz, Jaja ligat mereka alasan di dalam kepala untuk mengelak daripada berjumpa dengannya. Tepat dugaannya apabila Faiz mahu berjumpa dengannya.

Sebelum keluar untuk menemui Faiz, Jaja sempat meminta Jamie memanggilnya semula ke dalam butik dengan sebarang alasan. Dia sudah berpesan kepada Jamie yang dia tidak kesah Jamie mahu menggunakan apa-apa alasan sekalipun. Akhirnya, jadilah perkara seperti tadi.

“Hal famili.” Jawab Jaja pendek.

“Macam kena kahwin paksa saja aku tengok,” kata Jamie.

Jaja berubah wajah. Dia menarik kerusi dan meletakkan cawan berisi air sejuk di atas meja. Dia tidak meneguknya tetapi sebaliknya mengeluh. Dia kemudian menyembam wajahnya di atas meja.

“Jaja, err… Kuch Kuch Hota Hai?” Jamie menyuakan seketul quiche. Jaja langsung tidak terpujuk dengannya.

 

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[REVIEW] NOVEL HERO

Novel HERO Oleh Hilal Asyraf

 

Tragedi menimpa keluarganya menyelak jendela konspirasi yang lebih besar. Diri yang penuh dengan noda kini menggalas sebuah perjuangan, menjadi HERO Kotaraya Angsana, harapan kepada Malaysia. Dua tahun berlalu, negara masih lemas dalam korupsi, dirinya pula terpaksa menikahi Sang Bidadari kontradik dengan diri, sedang muncul watak misteri bakal mengancam perjuangan suci. Mampukah dia mengusahakan perubahan?

Novel-novel oleh Hilal Asyraf tidak lagi janggal didengari dikalangan peminat novel pada masa sekarang. Novel HERO ini mengisahkan bagaimana kehidupan seorang pemuda yang dipanggil Afam ini telah berubah dari tiada hala tuju ke tanggungjawab besar yang perlu dipikulnya. Afam bertanggungjawab berjuang dalam sut yang canggih demi melindungi rakyat Malaysia. Begitu menarik sekali apabila, latar tempat ini menggambarkan Malaysia pada zaman yang akan datang, kotaraya yang baru, mempunyai bangunan yang mengalahkan bangunan tertinggi di dunia dan penuh dengan teknologi yang tiada tandingannya. Hilal Asyraf gemar menceritakan realiti latar masyarakat Malaysia pada zaman ini dan secara tidak sedar, jalan cerita ini ada juga menyelitkan dakwah dan nasihat yang sangat bermanfaat untuk rakyat Malaysia menjadi lebih baik dan bertanggungjawab terhadap persekitaran. Secara keseluruhannya, jalan cerita novel ini sangat best dan saya cadangkan anda semua tidak melepaskan peluang untuk membaca eBook ini.

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[SNEAK PEEK] THE GIRL WITH THE MERMAID HAIR

The Girl With The Mermaid Hair by Delia Ephron

 

“BUT Mom, we have the same nose.”

“Not anymore,” said her mom cheerfully, now ensconced on the bed, surrounded by mail, slicing open some envelopes with her nail file but tossing most into a junk pile. “Where’s Señor? Why isn’t Señor here? Señor?” she called. “He’s rejecting me, what can I do? How have you been? Tell me everything.” Her mom patted the bed for Sukie to sit.

“How did you change it?” asked Sukie, standing in the doorway. She’d been twirling her hair nervously and was surprised to discover that she’d yanked out some strands.

“Well, aren’t you a broken record. It’s just one piece of the pie.”

“What pie?” Sukie didn’t know what to do with the hair in her hand. She stuck it in her pocket.

“My face. Stop obsessing.”

“I’m not obsessing.”

“You are obviously obsessing. I obsess, so don’t tell me you don’t obsess. Come on, sit, talk.”

“Today was horrible,” said Sukie.

Her mother flinched. “Don’t touch your stitches,” she scolded herself. She slapped her own hand, which had misbehaved and scratched a spot under her ear. “My whole scalp itches,” she confided. “I have a staple in my head. What happened?”

“My phone. I lost it. At the club.”

“They’ll find it, I’m sure. Don’t go getting hysterical.”

“I’m not hysterical,” said Sukie, wondering if she was.

“Because you’re always getting hysterical.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Don’t bother to deny it. Doesn’t Sukie get hysterical?” she asked her husband, who had creaked in carrying a bag of frozen peas. He carefully lowered himself into an armchair, flicked on the TV, and pressed the bag against the bruised and battered side of his face. “Doesn’t she?”

Sukie’s dad simply winked at Sukie with his only visible eye.

Her mom perused a letter. “Well, this is inconvenient.”

“What?” said Sukie.

“The big school meeting about college is Wednesday night.”

“You don’t have to go,” said Sukie.

“Of course we have to go.”

“This counts, kiddo. Big time,” said her dad.

“No, really, you don’t have to go.”

How would she explain her mother? What lie would cover it? A box fell on her head. A spa accident. What was a spa accident? Sukie’s mind was racing while her mother prattled on. “You have to get into the best college. We have to make sure that we’re doing everything and that you’re doing everything. Perhaps you should volunteer at a homeless shelter. Is there one nearby? That would be so wonderful for your college application. We’ll see what they say on Wednesday. We’re not the kind of parents who don’t care that we’re not doing everything possible for your future. Look at me, Susannah Danielle Jamieson.”

Sukie twisted to face her mom directly, realizing as she did so that her mom had pieces of Scotch tape next to her eyes and below her ears.

“We love you,” said her mom.

“I love you, too,” said Sukie. “What’s that tape for?”

“To hold my stitches in place.” Her mom leaned close. Sukie could see the bits of black thread underneath.

“How long does the tape stay there?”

“Until the stitches come out. Listen, darling, don’t worry. I’ll wrap myself in something fantastic. No one will ever know.”

Sukie wandered out of her parents’ bedroom and into her own. Señor was waiting. She looked into his eyes. She often did that to channel his strength, his confidence, his judgment, or another of his gifts that she wished she possessed. Today, feeling the damp sweat that heralded the onset of the jumps, she searched for Señor’s stillness, hoping to shore up her own. After a minute of silence, Señor made himself clear. “I know,” said Sukie, “but who?” She didn’t have a close friend. She liked Jenna, but Jenna was best friends with Frannie. Sukie couldn’t possiblyspend time with Frannie. She couldn’t even look her in the eye.

Maybe Issy would understand. She was older, but she was so friendly and warm. Still, Sukie couldn’t just turn up at Clementi’s, order a pizza, and pour out her heart.

A true friend. She was reluctant to write how much she longed for one even in her private journal, for her eyes only.

Usually she pushed it out of her head.

She planned her school days judiciously, making sure she had a meeting every lunch—Educating Girls Globally, Debate Club, Spanish Club, Math Club. On Fridays, when there were no meetings, she went to the cafeteria. Kids never minded if she joined their table, but no one ever called her over or saved her a seat. Sometimes she sat alone, spread papers around as if she needed the entire space, and knocked off the weekend’s homework. By these means, if she didn’t stop herself from feeling lonely, she at least kept everyone else from thinking that she was. Friendless. The bleak word skittered around the fringes of her mind, scurried ahead of her through the halls, clearing the empty way.

In her journal she railed against the unfairness of it. It’s not my fault that I’m the total package, looks and brains. Everyone’s jealous. That, she told herself, was why her cell phone hardly rang, even though every week she changed the ring as if the ring tone had become stuck in her head from hearing it again and again and again.

Bobo.

She let herself fall backward onto the bed and crossed her arms over her face. This was a way not to cry. Tried and true. Tears could trickle out, but mostly, in this position, her eyes would simply fill to the brim like glasses of water.

Your dad’s slime.

Already she could hardly remember the grim man’s face, only his red Windbreaker and his thin lips barely moving. He hadn’t spoken in a threatening way, more as if he were breaking the news, tipping her to it.

Your dad’s slime. Never forget it.

Bury it. Bury it deep. It’s not a truth, it’s a falsehood. A horrible lie. Blot it out. Think about something else—ice cream, dancing elephants, Señor’s eyes. Bobo. Think about Bobo. Your dad’s slime. Never forget it. She had buried it and already it rose from the grave.

Sit up. That’s an order.

It wasn’t Señor’s idea, it was Sukie’s, but she knew he would approve.

She stormed into the bathroom and faced the mirror. “Don’t feel sorry for yourself,” she ordered. “Hup, two, three, four.” Calling out the numbers, she marched in a circle until she came face-to-face with herself again, and then, almost as if someone were beckoning her, she drew closer.

“If I can’t have an actual friend, I want a friend in the mirror,” Sukie announced, and, in a blink, instead of her own reflection she beheld Issy with her punky pink hair and sly eyes twinkling with fun. Issy was wearing an outfit Sukie had once admired—a baby-doll dress with straps that came over her shoulders, crisscrossed under her breasts, and wound around her body at least two more times (binding her tiny waist snugly) with still enough length for her to twirl the ends languidly as Issy in the mirror was doing right now. It was a summer dress, but Isabella, who Sukie suspected never did the obvious, wore it in cold weather as a jumper with a long-sleeved jersey underneath. “I love your dress,” said Sukie.

“You can borrow it,” said Issy. “Anytime. We should go shopping.”

“I’d love that,” said Sukie.

Issy smiled her wonderful, wide, and welcoming smile. “If I had a little sister, I’d want her to be you.”

“Thank you,” said Sukie. “Today, especially, I really need that.”

Issy disappeared from the mirror, and the good feeling generated by an imaginary visit with Issy dissolved as Sukie confronted her own nose.

From the tip to the top, she pinched it, trying to round the narrow flat ramp.

Scotch tape. That’s what she needed.

Sukie had a label maker. She used it to identify things that didn’t need identifying, like her Scotch-tape dispenser. She’d printed SUKIE’S SCOTCH TAPE and stuck it on. The label wasn’t a warning to her younger brother: “This is mine, don’t touch.” She just loved to label. Everything that could be labeled was labeled, and had assigned seating across the top of her desk. A place for everything, everything in its place. In rows straight and even. The Jamiesons’ housekeeper, Louisa, who came in twice a week, marveled at Sukie’s order and at how little work she had to do in Sukie’s compulsively arranged room. Lopsided equals bad luck, Sukie believed it utterly. She tore off short strips of tape, about two inches, sticking one on each fingertip. If she fluttered her fingers, they waved like flags.

Returning to the mirror, she stripped the tape bits off and, so that they would be handy when she needed them, stuck them on the silver frame. As she did, she leaned sideways. She could still look at herself, but at the same time she could see back through the doorway into her bedroom where the telephone sat. “Do it.” She cracked the whip. “Just do it. Grow up, you miserable baby.”

She marched to the desk and dialed.

The phone rang and rang. To distract herself from the depressingly inevitable—no answer—she examined her cuticles.

“Shoot, how does this work?”

“I can hear you,” yelped Sukie.

“Who is this?” The man sounded amused.

“Susannah Jamieson. This is my cell. You have my cell.”

“Warren’s kid?”

Sukie tried to tell if he disapproved of her dad, but it wasn’t like talking to Mrs. Merenda, where she sensed something weird. “Yes,” she said. “I dropped it at the club.”

“Here you go.”

“What?”

“I was talking to the conductor.”

“The conductor?”

“I’m on the train.”

“The train?”

“I’ll have some of those, please. Sorry. Wait a second while I pay for this.”

Sukie straightened the stapler. She turned the mug of pens so SUKIE’S SHARPIES faced front. Lopsided equals bad luck. Lopsided equals bad luck.

“I’m sorry,” said the man. “I meant to leave your phone at the club, but I put it in my pocket and forgot all about it until it just now rang. I’ll cruise by your house and drop it off as soon as I get back.”

She tapped down the paper clips so she could close the box neatly. “Back from where?” she asked.

“New York City.”

Her phone was on its way to New York City. “When are you coming back?”

“Wednesday.”

Four whole days. She wanted to bang her head against the wall. She really did. She wanted to walk over to the wall and knock herself out.

“You know what? I’ll drop it at your dad’s office. I’m Glen Harbinder. Your dad knows me.”

Sukie adjusted the label maker. Now everything on her desk was straight. Later she wrote in her journal,Emotionally I was at the edge of a cliff. Should I leap? I closed my eyes.

Sukie leaped. “Would you please read me my text message?” She trotted out her most pitiful little-girl voice.

“How do I do that?” he asked.

“Touch the little green square at the top.”

“Got it. You’ve got two.”

“Two?” Sukie’s eyes snapped open.

“Two from Bobo.” He enjoyed the name, she could tell. She could hear him thinking, How cute.

“What’s the capital of North Dakota?”

“That’s the message?”

“No, I’m not telling you the message until you answer the question.” He chuckled, or maybe chewed.

“Bismarck.” God, was he mentally ill? She knew them all. She could recite the presidents backward and forward. Who did he think he was dealing with?

“‘Meet me after the game.’”

“That’s the message?”

“And the other is ‘Danger cation.’”

“What?”

“‘Danger cation.’”

“Is that one word?”

“No, two.”

“Would you spell it?”

“D-A-N-G-E-R C-A-T-I-O-N.”

She hung up and began jumping. She bounced into the bathroom and back into the bedroom. MEET ME AFTER THE GAME. DANGER CATION. Cation? Cation? Caution. He must mean caution!

MEET ME AFTER THE GAME. DANGER CAUTION.

Definitely caution. He must have misspelled it. Everyone makes mistakes texting. Lots of really smart people were bad spellers too. She’d heard that somewhere.

DANGER CAUTION.

He is not only a bad speller, he is bad. She’d never known a guy who was bad. There was no one bad atCobweb. Kids there were sickeningly decent. ROLL ME OVER. Sukie was tingling.

Thank God she’d straightened everything on her desk. Who cared that he couldn’t spell? She was a good-enough speller for both of them. With luck, their children would take after her.

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[REVIEW] SURIHATI ENCIK PEMBUNUH

Surihati Encik Pembunuh oleh Hilal Asyraf

 

Novel sambungan Pemburu ini mengisahkan Faisal, seorang pembunuh profesional bagi Organisasi Hitam. Dia telah meragut sekitar 900 nyawa sehingga digelar “Izrail” dalam dunia gelap. Namun Faisal diserang rasa meluat dan benci kepada kerjayanya ini dan rasa ingin keluar membersihkan diri semakin membuak-buak. Takdir menentukan pertemuannya dengan Amirah Sophia, rakan sepengajian di universiti yang aktif dengan gerakan dakwah. Faisal membuat keputusan drastik mengutarakan lamaran. Sangkanya jalan perubahan sudah terbentang, namun apa yang Faisal tidak nampak ialah onak dan duri yang terpacak bersamanya.


Novel genre aksi ini mengisahkan tentang pembunuh upahan profesional yang ingin berubah ke arah kebaikan. Jalan cerita novel ini dapat memberikan kita bayangan tidak kisah berapa dalam pun seseorang di dalam lohong kegelapan, akhirnya pasti terbuka hati juga untuk membersihkan diri. Segelap mana pun kehidupan kita, pasti ada orang yang sanggup terima kita seadanya dan sanggup iringi kita ke jalan yang benar. Kehidupan berzina, minum arak seperti rakan-rakan Faisal dari Organisasi Hitam membuatkan Faisal mual dan loya dan itu menunjukkan bahawa kehidupan sebegitu rupa tidak lah membawa faedah kepada umat Islam seperti Faisal. Banyak juga pengajaran yang diberi seperti tidak semua orang boleh dipercayai di dalam dunia ini dan haruslah kita berhati-hati ketika bersosial dengan orang-orang sekeliling jika tidak mahu ditikam belakang. Novel ini layak mendapatkan 4 stars kerana novel ini menceritakan kisah yang masih lagi terjadi di Malaysia pada masa kini. Adakah Faisal akan terselamat dari kancah kegelapan yang dijerat Maximus, boss Organisasi Hitam atau adakah harapannya untuk berubah itu satu perkara yang sia sia? Untuk tahu apakah endingnya, boleh baca eBook dengan lebih lanjut di link bawah ini.

 

eBook penuh boleh didapati di E-Sentral.com
https://www.e-sentral.com/book/info/207124/Surihati-Encik-Pembunuh