Creation in Death
(Sprache: Englisch)
IF YOU HAVEN T READ ROBB, THIS IS A GREAT PLACE TO START. Stephen King
A WITTY, DARK, PAGE-TURNING TALE OF FUTURISTIC CRIME FIGHTING. RAYMOND CHANDLER MEETS BLADE RUNNER MEETS SILENCE OF THE LAMBS. Jonathan Kellerman
New York City, 2060:...
A WITTY, DARK, PAGE-TURNING TALE OF FUTURISTIC CRIME FIGHTING. RAYMOND CHANDLER MEETS BLADE RUNNER MEETS SILENCE OF THE LAMBS. Jonathan Kellerman
New York City, 2060:...
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IF YOU HAVEN T READ ROBB, THIS IS A GREAT PLACE TO START. Stephen KingA WITTY, DARK, PAGE-TURNING TALE OF FUTURISTIC CRIME FIGHTING. RAYMOND CHANDLER MEETS BLADE RUNNER MEETS SILENCE OF THE LAMBS. Jonathan Kellerman
New York City, 2060: Lieutenant Eve Dallas never forgets a corpse. Her new case will resurrect the memories of women she couldn t save and the killer who slipped out of her grasp
When the body of a young brunette is found in East River Park, artfully positioned and marked by signs of prolonged and painful torture, Lieutenant Eve Dallas is catapulted back to a case nine years earlier. The city was on edge from a killing spree that took the lives of four women in fifteen days, courtesy of a man the media tagged The Groom because he put silver rings on the fingers of his victims.
But this time, it becomes chillingly clear that the killer has made his attack personal. The young woman was employed by Eve s billionaire husband, Roarke, washed in products from a store Roarke owns, and laid out on a sheet his company manufactures. Chances are, The Groom is working up to the biggest challenge of his illustrious career abducting a woman who will test his skills and who promises to give him days and days of pleasure before she dies: Eve.
Lese-Probe zu „Creation in Death “
Prologue For him, death was a vocation. Killing was not merely an act, or a means to an end. It certainly was not an impulse of the moment or a path to gain and glory.
Death was, in and of itself, the all.
He considered himself a late bloomer, and often bemoaned the years before he d found his raison d être. All that time lost, all those opportunities missed. But still, he had bloomed, and was forever grateful that he had finally looked inside himself and seen what he was. What he was meant for.
He was a maestro in the art of death. The keeper of time. The bringer of destiny.
It had taken time, of course, and experimentation. His mentor s time had run out long before he himself had become the master. And even in his prime, his teacher had not envisioned the full scope, the full power. He was proud that he had learned, had not only honed his skills but had expanded them while perfecting his techniques.
He d learned, and learned quickly, that he preferred women as his partners in the duet. In the grand opera he wrote, and rewrote, they outperformed the men.
His requirements were few, but very specific.
He didn t rape them. He d experimented there, as well, but had found rape distasteful and demeaning to both parties.
There was nothing elegant about rape.
As with any vocation, any art that required great skill and concentration, he d learned he required holidays what he thought of as his dormant periods.
During them he would entertain himself as anyone might on a holiday. He would travel, explore, eat fine meals. He might ski or scuba dive, or simply sit under an umbrella on a lovely beach and while away the time reading and drinking mai tais.
He would plan, he would prepare, he would make arrangements.
By the time he went back to work, he was refreshed and eager.
... mehr
As he was now, he thought as he readied his tools. More, so much more ... with his latest dormant period had come the understanding of his own destiny. So he d gone back to his roots. And there, where he had first seriously plied his trade, he would re-form and remake connections before the curtain came down.
It added so many interesting layers, he mused, as he tested the edge on an antique switchblade with a horn handle he d purchased while touring Italy. He turned the steel blade to the light, admired it. Circa nineteen fifty-three, he thought.
It was a classic for a reason.
He enjoyed using tools from long ago, though he also employed more modern pieces. The laser, for instance so very excellent for applying the element of heat.
There must be a variety sharp, dull, cold, heat a series of elements in various forms, in various cycles. It took a great deal of skill, and patience and concentration to spin those cycles out to the absolute zenith of his partner s aptitude.
Then, and only then, would he complete the project and know he d done his best work.
This one had been an excellent choice. He could congratulate himself on that. For three days and four nights, she d survived and there was life in her yet. It was so satisfying.
He d started out slowly, naturally. It was vital, absolutely vital, to build and build and build to that ultimate crescendo.
He knew, as a master of his craft knew such things, that they were approaching that peak.
Music on, he ordered, then stood, eyes closed as he absorbed the opening strains of Puccini s Madame Butterfly.
He understood the central character s choice of death for love. Hadn t it been that choice, so many years before, that had sent him on this path?
He slipped the protective cover over his tailored white suit.
He turned. He looked at her.
Such a lovely thing, he thought now. He remembered, as he always did, her precursor. Her mother, he supposed.
The Eve of all the others. <
As he was now, he thought as he readied his tools. More, so much more ... with his latest dormant period had come the understanding of his own destiny. So he d gone back to his roots. And there, where he had first seriously plied his trade, he would re-form and remake connections before the curtain came down.
It added so many interesting layers, he mused, as he tested the edge on an antique switchblade with a horn handle he d purchased while touring Italy. He turned the steel blade to the light, admired it. Circa nineteen fifty-three, he thought.
It was a classic for a reason.
He enjoyed using tools from long ago, though he also employed more modern pieces. The laser, for instance so very excellent for applying the element of heat.
There must be a variety sharp, dull, cold, heat a series of elements in various forms, in various cycles. It took a great deal of skill, and patience and concentration to spin those cycles out to the absolute zenith of his partner s aptitude.
Then, and only then, would he complete the project and know he d done his best work.
This one had been an excellent choice. He could congratulate himself on that. For three days and four nights, she d survived and there was life in her yet. It was so satisfying.
He d started out slowly, naturally. It was vital, absolutely vital, to build and build and build to that ultimate crescendo.
He knew, as a master of his craft knew such things, that they were approaching that peak.
Music on, he ordered, then stood, eyes closed as he absorbed the opening strains of Puccini s Madame Butterfly.
He understood the central character s choice of death for love. Hadn t it been that choice, so many years before, that had sent him on this path?
He slipped the protective cover over his tailored white suit.
He turned. He looked at her.
Such a lovely thing, he thought now. He remembered, as he always did, her precursor. Her mother, he supposed.
The Eve of all the others. <
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von J. D. Robb
J. D. Robb is the pseudonym for a #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than 200 novels, including the bestselling In Death series. There are more than 500 million copies of her books in print.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: J. D. Robb
- 2008, 384 Seiten, Maße: 10,8 x 17,2 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Berkley Publishing Group
- ISBN-10: 0425221024
- ISBN-13: 9780425221020
- Erscheinungsdatum: 27.05.2008
Sprache:
Englisch
Rezension zu „Creation in Death “
All the elements of a terrific police procedural coupled with gut- searing emotional drama and in-your-face characters that only a writer of Nora Roberts' caliber can deliver. ? David Baldacci Whether she writes as J.D. Robb or under her own name, I love Nora Roberts. She is a woman who just doesn?t know how to tell a bad story. Creation in Death is an authentic page turner, with Eve Dallas?tough as nails and still sexy as hell?pitted against one of the year's creepiest super villains. If you haven?t read Robb, this is a great place to start. ? Stephen King "Anchored by terrific characters, sudden twists that spin the whole narrative on a dime, and a thrills-to-chills ratio that will raise the neck hairs of even the most jaded reader, the J.D. Robb books are the epitome of great popular fiction." ?Dennis Lehane ?There's no such thing as too much Nora Roberts. All the books are good, and they keep getting better. Creation in Death, written in her J.D
Pressezitat
There s no such thing as too much Nora Roberts. Creation in Death is a complete pleasure. Wonderful! Robert B. ParkerAll the elements of a terrific police procedural coupled with gut-searing drama and in-your-face characters. David Baldacci
J.D. Robb s In Death novels are can t-miss pleasures. Harlan Coben
Creation in Death is an authentic page turner, with Eve Dallas tough as nails and still sexy as hell pitted against one of the year s creepiest villains. Stephen King
Anchored by terrific characters, sudden twists that spin the whole narrative on a dime, and a thrills-to-chills ration that will raise the neck hairs of even the most jaded reader, the J.D. Robb books are the epitome of great popular fiction. Dennis Lehane
A taut, nerve jangling thriller. Ridley Pearson
More Praise for the In Death series
Robb is a virtuoso. Seattle Post-Intelligencer
It s Law & Order: SVU in the future. Entertainment Weekly
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