All Seeing Eye [NOOK Book]

Overview

The New York Times bestselling author of the Cal Leandros series delivers a bold new supernatural thriller where one man’s extraordinary abilities come with an equally phenomenal cost.

Picking up a small, pink shoe from the grass forever changed young Jackson Lee’s life. Not only did its presence mean that his sister Tessa was dead—murdered and stuffed in the deep, black water of a narrow well—but the shoe itself told him so. Tessa’s death ...
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All Seeing Eye

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Overview

The New York Times bestselling author of the Cal Leandros series delivers a bold new supernatural thriller where one man’s extraordinary abilities come with an equally phenomenal cost.

Picking up a small, pink shoe from the grass forever changed young Jackson Lee’s life. Not only did its presence mean that his sister Tessa was dead—murdered and stuffed in the deep, black water of a narrow well—but the shoe itself told him so. Tessa’s death triggers an even more horrific family massacre that, combined with this new talent he neither wants nor can handle, throws Jack’s life into a tailspin. The years quickly take him from state homes to the streets to grifting in a seedy carnival, until he finally becomes the cynical All Seeing Eye, psychic-for-hire. At last, Jackson has left his troubled past behind and found a semblance of peace.

That is, until the government blackmails him. After Jackson is forced to help the military contain the aftermath of a bizarre experiment gone violently wrong, everything he knows about himself will change just as suddenly as it did with his little sister’s shoe.

And while change is constant . . . it’s never for the better.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781451652239
  • Publisher: Pocket Books
  • Publication date: 7/31/2012
  • Sold by: SIMON & SCHUSTER
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 400
  • Sales rank: 284,487
  • File size: 4 MB

Meet the Author

Rob Thurman is the author of the Cal Leandros series, the Trickster series, and the Korsak Brothers novels, and has been a Goodreads Choice, Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice, and an Eliot Rosewater Award nominee. Rob’s work is dark, nonstop action from beginning to end, rife with purely evil sarcasm as sharp as a switchblade—and probably nearly as illegal. Contact the author at RobThurman.net and @Rob_Thurman. 
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Read an Excerpt

1

A lost shoe. That’s how it began.

It was nothing more or less than that. A shoe, just one small shoe.

At first, I didn’t recognize it, although I should have. I’d seen it hundreds of times on the front porch or lying in the yard, its shine dulled by red dust. Tess was a typical five-year-old, careless with her things. Not that she had many things to be careful with. The pink shoes had been her only birthday present. I’d been with Mom when she’d picked them out at the secondhand store in town. She’d paid two dollars for them, but that didn’t stop me from thinking she’d gotten ripped off. Pink patent leather with bedraggled ribbon ties and rhinestone starbursts on the sides, they were ugly as hell and louder than Aunt Grace’s good church dress.

Tessie loved them, of course. She wore them everywhere and with everything, even when we went blackberry picking. With hands stained berry purple and hair in lopsided pigtails she’d done up herself, she would skip along in denim overalls, shirtless, ignoring the thorn scratches on her arms, and beam at the sight of those damn awful shoes.

That’s where I was walking home from, selling the blackberries. I had a stand up at the main road. It wasn’t much to look at, a few boards I’d clapped together. A strong wind could take it down and had once or twice in a good old Georgia thunderstorm. I sold paper bags full of plump, gnat-ridden berries for a dollar to people driving by. Sometimes Glory and Tess hung around and helped, but usually not. Five-year-old twin girls don’t have much patience for sweltering in the sun in the hopes of making a couple of bucks. Besides, today was a school day. Glory was at kindergarten. Tess, with a bad case of chicken pox and spotty as a Dalmatian, was stuck at home, and I was skipping. I’d get my ass busted for it, no way around that, but it was for a good cause. A skinny teenager, I was two years away from my license and probably four years away from filling out. If I ever wanted to date, money was all I was going to have going for me. Cast-off clothes and home haircuts weren’t the way to any cheerleader’s heart, not in my school, anyway. Not that cheerleaders were the be-all and end-all of what I wanted out of life. They weren’t, but they’d do until graduation.

Mom worked bagging groceries; it was the same place she’d worked since she dropped out of high school pregnant with me. Boyd, my step-dad, worked on holding the couch down. He was on disability, a “bad back.” Yeah, right. I remembered when he’d gotten the news. It was beer and pizza with his buddies for a week. You would’ve thought the fat bastard had won the lottery. That bad back, along with a near-terminal case of laziness, might have kept him from working, but it didn’t keep him from other things. I rubbed the swollen lump on my jaw as I walked and then fingered the four dollars in my pocket. I liked the feel of that a lot better.

“Dirt poor” wasn’t a new phrase, not in these parts, but it was a true one. That wasn’t going to be me, though. I sold blackberries, delivered papers in a place where most houses were at least half a mile apart, and had an after-school job at the same grocery as my mom. It was hard work, and there wasn’t much I hated more than hard work. But I did like money. One day I was going to figure out how to get one without doing too much of the other. I had plans for my life, and they didn’t involve rusted-out cars or jeans permanently stained red by Georgia mud. I had plans, all right, and plans required money. But it wasn’t going to be made by sponging off the government like Boyd. No, not like that sad sack of shit.

He was lazy. I could swallow that. No one knows lazy like a fourteen-year-old kid. But if I could make myself work, so could he. Instead, he squatted on the couch, scratching his balding head and blankly watching whatever channel happened to be coming in that day through our crappy antenna. He yelled a lot at the girls and me, during the commercials. And on occasion, if he was drunk or bored enough, he would lever himself off the worn cushions to back up his bark with some bite. He was careful not to break any bones. Boyd might not be smart, but he wasn’t stupid, either. Coyote-sharp cunning lay behind the cold blue eyes. That same cunning held his large fists from doing the type of permanent damage that would draw the eye of the police. He hadn’t touched the twins yet, and he wouldn’t. I wouldn’t let the son of a bitch get the chance. Girls were different. Girls were good … well, I amended as I scratched the bite on my calf, mostly good.

As for me, black eyes, bruises, some welts. No big deal. Teenage boys were troublemakers, right? We needed keeping in line. I might not have believed Boyd about that, but my mom didn’t say a word when he pounded the message home. She’d only smooth my hair, bite her lip, and send me off with ice wrapped in a worn dish towel. She was my mom. If she went along with it, it must be true. Boys needed discipline, and a good smack upside the head was the usual way to go about it. I told a kid at school that once, not thinking anything of it. Why would I? It was the way things were, the way they’d been as long as I could remember. But the look that kid gave me … it made me realize, for the first time, that wasn’t the way things were, not always. And when he called me trash, I realized something else. We were trash, and trash hit each other. It was the way of the world. The law of the trailer park. Being trash, I promptly punched that smug punk in the nose so he’d know what it was like to be me.

I didn’t hate Boyd. He wasn’t worth hating. I did despise him, though. He was worth that. A mean-spirited, beery-breathed sponge that did nothing but suck up money. He hadn’t even wanted to make Tess lunch and take her temperature for a couple of days, but he gave in rather than have Mom miss work and bring home a day less paycheck. He hadn’t wanted to be bothered, that was Boyd all over. Just couldn’t be bothered about anything. Tess and Glory were hell on wheels, no getting around that, but taking care of your kids is supposed to come with the territory. Sure, Tess chattered nonstop from sunup to sundown about anything and nothing, while Glory was sneaky and wild as a feral cat, but that’s who they were. You had to accept it. That’s family. I knew I’d done a lot of accepting in my time. The bite that itched on my calf was courtesy of Glory, and the cartoon Band-Aid over it was from her twin. Two halves of a hellacious whole.

I was heading home in the lazy afternoon, still idly scratching the Glory bite, when I first saw the gleam of pink. I’d cut through our neighbor’s property, twenty-five acres of scrubby grass, black snakes, and the foundation of a hundred-years-gone icehouse. Rumor was a plantation had been somewhere around there in the day. Now there was only scattered rock and an abandoned well.

The neon flash came from a foot-long scraggle of yellowing weeds. Hideously bright and a shade found nowhere in nature, it caught my eye. Curiously, I moved toward it, stomping my feet to scare off any snakes. As I bent over to study it, the smear of color finally shifted into a recognizable shape. A typically girlie thing, it was cradled in the grass as bright and cheerful as an Easter egg. Tessie’s shoe.

She’d lost it. When had that happened? It was far from the house. Yet Tess had lost her shoe way out here. I reached out and picked it up. The plastic of it was shiny and sleek against my skin. The only scuff was on the toe, and I traced a finger over it. It weighed nothing in my palm, less than a feather, it was so small. Tess’s favorite shoe, and she’d lost it.

But …

That was wrong.

My grip spasmed around the shoe until I heard the crack of a splitting sole. It was all wrong. Tess hadn’t lost her shoe. The shoe had lost her. I had lost her. Tessie was gone. Smothered in water and darkness, her wide blue eyes forever open, her hands floating upward like white lilies as if she were hoping someone would pull her up. No one had. My sister was gone.

God, she was gone.

How did I know? Easy. It was as simple as the river being wet, as obvious as the sky being blue. Unstoppable as a falling star.

The shoe told me.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 21 )
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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 21 Customer Reviews
  • Posted February 7, 2013

    It isn't often that I run across a book that is such a great rea

    It isn't often that I run across a book that is such a great read that I want to keep it so I can reread it over and over again.This is one of them. The main characters are intriguing, the dialogue well-crafted, and the plot engrossing and packed with great twists at the end that I truly never saw coming. The only complaint I had was I wanted MORE MORE MORE. Where's the next book in the series? I'm already dying to read it. I LOVED this book. It is even better than the Leandros brothers series.

    Stop reading if you don't want any whiffs of the plot:

    Authors are told never to kill a child in a book. It turns off a lot of readers. So, I wondered when at the start of the book, the main character finds his five-year-old sister murdered. Do not be turned off by this. This winds up shaping his whole life in important ways. Read the book to the very end. It is a necessary and ultimately highly satisfying thread to the story.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted November 2, 2013

    more from this reviewer

    Reviewed by Marissa Book provided by the publisher for review Re

    Reviewed by Marissa
    Book provided by the publisher for review
    Review originally posted at Romancing the Book


    All Seeing Eye grabbed me from the blurb and didn’t let go, even after the end of the book. Two days later, I was still going over scenes in my head, reliving the final tear-inducing, mind-blowing chapters.

    Jackson Lee is a man who develops psychometric powers upon the death of his younger sister. One touch of skin-to-skin or to any object and Jackson knows your past. He lives it himself in a matter of moments – all the good, the sad, and the bad. What I found exceedingly interesting was the response of his mind to sociopaths – those with no conscience or moral compass. Jackson describes it as “locking yourself in a walk-in freezer, alone. All the warmth was immediately drained out of you.” In the extreme is what he gets from his dog – happy thoughts of running in fields, naps in the sunshine, and treats.

    Even with his past – his sister and mother murdered, killing his stepfather, separated from his other sister and put into a state-run home, then ending up as a sham psychic in a carnival – Jack comes out okay. He is honest and moral. He tries to do right by his sister and his old friend. The problem is, nothing is within his control and the more he tries, the worse things seem to get.

    I found the shifts in the ether fascinating. The idea that horrific murders can be relived again and again, using live people who happen to be in the same place, to carry out actual murders is fascinating if at the same time terrifying. This is not quite the same as imprint ghosts destined to repeat their murder in an endless ethereal loop. It sends shivers up and down my spine to think that murders could be repeated at any time, anywhere, by anyone. And that is what makes this such a good book.

    I have to admit I fell a little bit in love with Thurman after reading the author bio on the inside back cover. He not only loves dogs but he rescues them from the local pound. As an animal lover, I’m all over him. Er, it… this. The rescuing. Then I found out Rob is actually Robyn. *sigh* Sorry, Rob. But I still love the dog rescuing and the writing.

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  • Posted March 9, 2013

    You know how when the author of your favorite series writes a bo

    You know how when the author of your favorite series writes a book outside of that series so you don't want to like it cuz you just want to keep reading more of the other series? 

    That's how I was with this book, which is totally a messed up way of thinking, but hey, I'm a tad messed up. But, of course I was going to read it anyway, because it's written by Rob Effin Thurman.

    Yes, her middle name is Effin. 

    Yes, in my head I'm thinking a different word that begins with F, but I'm trying to be a good example and not say that, and no, it's not THAT word. My F-bombs are interchangeable, depending on my mood. Sometimes it's Frakin when I'm being a geek/nerd who wishes she were at ComicCon. It's Fetchin when I de-age and embrace my inner teen self's upbringing in the west, and sometimes it's Freakin or Frickin when I just want to get the point across without being crass. 

    So back to Robyn Effin Thurman. She's a freakin genius. I didn't want to like All Seeing Eye, but that lasted all of 5 pages when Jackson Lee's sarcastic nature completely won me over. What a character! 

    And the ending... RET, once again, takes it in a different unexpected direction, leaving the best reveals for last. Love it. Love all the weird twists and turns of her creative, impossible to second guess brain. 

    And...and...was that Ariel?

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 19, 2013

    Excellent!

    Wonderful read and a brand new idea. Well written and captivating.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 30, 2013

    Government conspiracy for those who hate them

    Even though I generally do not tolerate government conspiracies (or any other conspiracy tale) well, this one is truly engrossing, well plotted and not too much of the oh come on stuff. Given the ending if this is planned as a series, it's going to have to go some interesting directions.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 19, 2013

    As Always - Rob Thurman Does Not Dissapoint

    Great new character. Very dark but Rob Thurman certainly knows how to make dark sexy. Very intriguing character and I hope more is coming.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 3, 2012

    Great

    It is no surprise to me that this book was awesome. All of Ms Turman's books are awesome. This story had great characters, lots of snark, an intriguing plot, suspense, action--it had it all. I agree with another reviewer that Jackson was a lot like Cal--all that attitude but with kindness at heart. I have no doubt that there will many more great novels from this author and I look forward to reading them all. Thanks for the great getaway!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted September 20, 2012

    Amazing writing!

    Good characters and a great ending. Quite different than her other books. All I can say to the author is "more like this one, please!" Also enjoyed Cal and Leandro series.

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  • Posted September 3, 2012

    LOVED this book. Charachter alot like cal but very very good.

    LOVED this book. Charachter alot like cal but very very good.

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  • Posted August 26, 2012

    Loved this book. I have both the Cal & Niko series and the

    Loved this book. I have both the Cal & Niko series and the
    Trickster Series. This was just as good. Loved the ending.

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    Posted September 2, 2012

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    Posted August 11, 2012

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    Posted December 14, 2012

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    Posted October 15, 2013

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    Posted August 8, 2012

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    Posted July 8, 2013

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    Posted May 1, 2013

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    Posted October 18, 2012

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