I just got sacked. I'm permanently drunk. I have cancer. I'm inescapably gay. I was hit by a bus. And, incidentally, I've fallen in love with a stranger whose life I saved.

My name is Andrew Thomas, newly-unemployed Sherlock Holmes scholar, and I don't know how to do any of this.

I know only Holmes can help me untangle this madness, and he isn't real. Except he absolutely appeared in my house, told me I'm in love with a man I just met, and then in a fit of pique I sent him away.

Maybe he's a hallucination or a specter or a ghost (pick one?), but now I desperately need Holmes' help.

So to find the answer to my case and the man of my dreams, I'm chasing a fictional character through London with my very own Watson (hi Mina).

Business as usual.