Gilded Latten Bones
A Garrett, P.I., Novel
(Sprache: Englisch)
For Garrett, P.I., loyalty and love come a close second to survival...
Garrett's attempt at domestic bliss with the fiery Tinnie Tate is sidetracked when he waylays a pair of home intruders and learns they've been paid by an unknown source to...
Garrett's attempt at domestic bliss with the fiery Tinnie Tate is sidetracked when he waylays a pair of home intruders and learns they've been paid by an unknown source to...
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For Garrett, P.I., loyalty and love come a close second to survival... Garrett's attempt at domestic bliss with the fiery Tinnie Tate is sidetracked when he waylays a pair of home intruders and learns they've been paid by an unknown source to kidnap Tinnie. But as Garrett rushes to find out who is trying to push his buttons, his best friend is attacked. Now, Garrett has to track down both malefactors.
Unless they're really one and the same-in which case Garrett might be next...
Lese-Probe zu „Gilded Latten Bones “
1For a long time it always started with a beautiful woman at the door, sometimes in the middle of the night. That had ended. Good things do. I wasn't in that racket anymore. There was only one beautiful woman for me. She was on my side of the door already.
Tinnie Tate. Tinnie had wreaked all sorts of changes in my life.
Tinnie had the word out. Garrett, that most marvelous specimen of former Marine, was no longer one of TunFaire's serious players, however you cared to define that term. Mama Garrett's boy was now devoutly monogamous. He reserved his vast professional acumen for the benefit of the Weider brewing empire and, more importantly, for that of the Amalgamated Manufacturing Combine. The man hadn't hit the mean streets in a rat's age. Which was pleasing to many and unpopular with a much smaller crowd.
Bottom feeders and parasites really liked the new Garrett. He was out of their lives. The reverse was true for workmen at the breweries and Amalgamated. Garrett had this habit of turning up just when some underpaid and underappreciated genius was about to enhance his income by reassigning ownership of company property.
My wondrous new life.
2
It did begin with a beautiful woman, in the middle of the night, a stunning redhead bereft of any perspective other than her own. She gouged me in the ribs with a specially sharpened fingernail. "Wake up, Malsquando."
"Again? What are you, trying to set a new record?"
"We'll work on that tomorrow night. We have another problem, now. There's somebody downstairs."
We lived in two story quarters we had carved out of a little-used part of the Amalgamated manufactory Annex. Something rattled down below, followed by a vague, exasperated curse.
... mehr
I was awake, now, my head filling with subjects I might offer for discussion once we got out of whatever this was. Like maybe the fact that this situation could not have come up had we made our nest at my house.
I was like liquid getting out of bed. Silently flowing. Not even a gurgle. I armed myself with an oaken head knocker that no amount of fussing or whining had compelled me to divorce.
Just in time.
The bedroom door opened with a faint creak. I was behind it, wound up. The villain entering carried a damped-down lantern. That cast just enough light for someone whose night vision had fully adapted. It revealed Tinnie lying there mostly uncovered and wearing nothing, apparently asleep. An impressive sight, I got to admit.
Lucky me, I'd seen it enough not to be distracted. Much.
"There's something wrong here, Butch." The whisperer leaned in just far enough to offer the back of his mostly bald head.
I seized the day, whacked that mole. Down he went. I spun around the edge of the door ; To stare down the length of twelve pounds of razor-edged steel. I couldn't imagine anybody having forged a sword that big. The eyes behind that monster did not belong to somebody in a merciful mood, nor even somebody truly sane.
Tinnie uncovered the goods, arrogantly showing off how lucky Garrett was. The eyes that knew no mercy did recognize those marvels when they saw them.
Clang! That blade brushed aside. Thump! A solid whack to the temple. Half a minute to make sure the villains didn't come back on us. Then, "Trollop."
"How's your health, big boy?" She had some clothes on, now. She had become the promise, not the literal truth.
"I had him."
"Sure, you did. Just a little insurance."
"Something to tell the grandkids about."
"Garrett. What the hell is going on? Are you into something? You promised. What are you into?"
"Nothing. When would I have the chance?" That was one of the costs of our monogamy. I had no life that didn't include Tinnie, nor shou
I was awake, now, my head filling with subjects I might offer for discussion once we got out of whatever this was. Like maybe the fact that this situation could not have come up had we made our nest at my house.
I was like liquid getting out of bed. Silently flowing. Not even a gurgle. I armed myself with an oaken head knocker that no amount of fussing or whining had compelled me to divorce.
Just in time.
The bedroom door opened with a faint creak. I was behind it, wound up. The villain entering carried a damped-down lantern. That cast just enough light for someone whose night vision had fully adapted. It revealed Tinnie lying there mostly uncovered and wearing nothing, apparently asleep. An impressive sight, I got to admit.
Lucky me, I'd seen it enough not to be distracted. Much.
"There's something wrong here, Butch." The whisperer leaned in just far enough to offer the back of his mostly bald head.
I seized the day, whacked that mole. Down he went. I spun around the edge of the door ; To stare down the length of twelve pounds of razor-edged steel. I couldn't imagine anybody having forged a sword that big. The eyes behind that monster did not belong to somebody in a merciful mood, nor even somebody truly sane.
Tinnie uncovered the goods, arrogantly showing off how lucky Garrett was. The eyes that knew no mercy did recognize those marvels when they saw them.
Clang! That blade brushed aside. Thump! A solid whack to the temple. Half a minute to make sure the villains didn't come back on us. Then, "Trollop."
"How's your health, big boy?" She had some clothes on, now. She had become the promise, not the literal truth.
"I had him."
"Sure, you did. Just a little insurance."
"Something to tell the grandkids about."
"Garrett. What the hell is going on? Are you into something? You promised. What are you into?"
"Nothing. When would I have the chance?" That was one of the costs of our monogamy. I had no life that didn't include Tinnie, nor shou
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Glen Cook
Glen Cook used to work the assembly line at a General Motors plant, writing in between helping to build cars as they came down the conveyor belt. He has written extensively in the science fiction and fantasy fields, and is the author of the Garrett, P.I., novels and the Black Company alternate history series.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Glen Cook
- 2010, 368 Seiten, Maße: 17,018 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: ROC
- ISBN-10: 0451463714
- ISBN-13: 9780451463715
- Erscheinungsdatum: 15.07.2011
Sprache:
Englisch
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