Ballsier than any Clint Eastwood line from the Dirty Harry franchise is one I read in the Robert Crais novel L.A. Requiem. Joe Pike had been framed for murder and, enroute to jail, pulls off a daring getaway. When questioned why he escaped by his private eye partner Elvis Cole, Pike ultimately responds “I don’t…
I dodged into the middle of the road. The car’s headlights were forty maybe fifty yards away. I held up both palms as though to wave the driver down, a look of terror smeared across my features. I glanced back from whence I’d fled; from the lakeside—from his lair—and saw the madman gaining on me.…
PROLOGUE LAST SUMMER I spent the bulk of the call with my eyes shut, thinking I was still asleep and in some kind of lucid dream. I may have even called the night sergeant out of the Chicago Police Department’s 12th District “Mom” before he barked at me to wake the hell up and get…
Sure, I love me my Mitch Rapp and John Rain and Lucas Davenport and Jack Reacher and Charlie Parker and Bobby Lee Swagger, and I’ll continue reading each and every one of their books until I’m hauled out feet first. However, I’ve also found myself developing a deep and growing fondness for Domestic Thrillers. My…
CHAPTER 1 Christine Dack was hung over. It had been a crazy Chicago wedding weekend all right. How could it not be with her old sorority mates? Sure, even though she and Sierra had been besties from back in their AOII days at dear old Ski-U-Mah, Christine hadn’t been selected as one of Sierra’s bridesmaids.…
