By Jana DeLeon
Who killed Helena Henry? The shorter checklist can be who didn’t wish her useless.
Psychic Raissa Bordeaux concept she’d left her former existence in the back of, but if a baby is abducted, she dangers her mystery identification via delivering the police aid with the case. New Orleans Detective Zach Blanchard doesn’t think in psychic hooey and is bound Raissa didn’t get her evidence concerning the case from a crystal ball. He suspects her of whatever in addition to being the main exciting and engaging he’s each come upon. but if Raissa’s secrets and techniques positioned her at risk, can Zach persuade her to belief him with the reality ahead of it’s too late?
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Jason M. Hough’s pulse-pounding debut combines the drama, swagger, and brilliant characters of Joss Whedon’s Firefly with the expertise of sci-fi writer John Scalzi.
within the mid-23rd century, Darwin, Australia, stands because the final human urban in the world. the area has succumbed to an alien plague, with lots of the inhabitants reworked into senseless, savage creatures. The planet’s refugees flock to Darwin, the place an area elevator—created by way of the architects of this apocalypse, the Builders—emits a plague-suppressing aura.
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Praise for The Darwin Elevator
“[Jason M. ] Hough’s first novel combines the rapid-fire motion and remarkable characters linked to Joss Whedon’s short-lived Firefly television sequence with the accessibility and clinical acumen of J. S. Corey’s ‘Expanse’ sequence. ”—Library magazine (starred review)
“The better part approximately alien tales is their secret, and Jason Hough is familiar with that like no different. jam-packed with compelling characters and thick with stress, The Darwin Elevator can provide either depression and wish besides a huge dose of ask yourself. It’s an excellent debut, and Hough can take my cash every time he writes whatever any longer. ”—Kevin Hearne, manhattan occasions bestselling writer of The Iron Druid Chronicles
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“Jason M. Hough does a very good activity with this large tale. the area of Darwin and the Elevator is deliciously advanced and fulfilling. Skyler, Tania, and the entire different characters are delightfully drawn and enjoyable to spend time with. . . . the tale unfolds with simply the best stability of excessive event, espionage, humor, and emotional fact. . . . once you end, you’ll wish extra. ”—Analog
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“Hough writes with impossible to resist power and gritty realism. His places his characters via hell, mixing a resounding plot with heart-stopping motion and moments of uncooked terror because the international is going loopy within the shadow of unfathomable alien intentions. ”—Sara Creasy, writer of the Philip okay. Dick Award–nominated track of Scarabaeus
A black jockey with a genius for horses and ladies . .. his white grasp, a slave to the corrupt wishes of his flesh . .. an amoral Southern good looks queen, out to seduce and take advantage of them either. .. . From this twisted human triangle comes one of many sensational novels of our time—a revelation of ardour, perversity and weird hungers.
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Extra resources for Showdown in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, Book 3)
I know. ’ Dexter raised his head and stared bleakly at the grimacing samurai. ‘When it came to it, I didn’t . ’ Joan shook his shoulder, irritated by him. ‘So what? Nobody does. ’ ‘I had the balls . ’ Dexter calmed her with his quirky smile. ‘What I didn’t have was hope, or trust. I was relying on myself. For me, those children were already dead. I should have remembered who I was trying to be. ’ I waited for Dexter to reflate himself, jaw flexing as it reengaged with his scarred face. ‘The travel agency you tried to attack.
The planet is full. ’ Her voice rose to a derisive hoot. ‘Gangs of coolies who mix the cement and lay the runways. ’ They’re the real victims. ’ I held my ribs, no longer thinking of whether I could walk as far as the King’s Road. Kay Churchill was launched into a well-rehearsed rant, counting off the chipped beads in her catechism of obsessions. According to Henry Kendall, the tape found in the Heathrow air vent had contained a similar tirade. I remembered the amateur video of Laura lying among the glass and suitcases, and listened to Kay addressing her real audience, the weary magistrates who would finally consign her to a cell in Holloway.
Laing and a familiar figure on CND marches, joining Bertrand Russell at anti-nuclear sit-ins and being glamorously dragged away by the police. Late-night discussion programmes on television were as much her natural home as the consulting room. As a child I watched her on my grandmother’s TV set, deeply impressed by the caftans, waist-length black hair and fiercely articulate passion. Free love and legalized drugs meant little to me, though I guessed they were in some way connected to the friendly but unfamiliar men who appeared on her weekend visits, and to the home-made cigarettes she taught me to roll for her and which she smoked despite the protests of my wearily tolerant grandmother.