Double Dexter (Dexter Series #6)

( 84 )

Overview

THE DEXTER PHENOMENON—IN PRINT, ON THE SCREEN, AND IN THE HEARTS OF MILLIONS OF FANS—CONTINUES WITH A DEADLY DUEL . . .
 
Dexter is displeased. Like any self-respecting, totally decent, soundly homicidal guy, Dexter Morgan takes great pride in his work and is careful to remain anonymous. So he is, naturally, upset to discover that someone has identified him and—worst of all—is now turning his own methods against him. The situation soon ...

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Double Dexter (Dexter Series #6)

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More About This Book

Overview

THE DEXTER PHENOMENON—IN PRINT, ON THE SCREEN, AND IN THE HEARTS OF MILLIONS OF FANS—CONTINUES WITH A DEADLY DUEL . . .
 
Dexter is displeased. Like any self-respecting, totally decent, soundly homicidal guy, Dexter Morgan takes great pride in his work and is careful to remain anonymous. So he is, naturally, upset to discover that someone has identified him and—worst of all—is now turning his own methods against him. The situation soon becomes more complicated when a brutal cop-killer begins targeting Miami’s police detectives—leaving behind bodies that are battered beyond recognition—and stoking the department’s worst fears. As his colleagues grow more paranoid of the psychotic killer in their midst, Dexter’s position is increasingly perilous. He is running out of time to track down this copycat and deliver his usual special justice, before his dark hobby is revealed to the world.

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Editorial Reviews

Library Journal
Blood splatter analyst by day, avenging angel by night, Dexter Morgan is everyone's favorite serial killer. Here the character who prompted Showtime's top-rated program discovers that some criminal out there is copying him. With a six-city tour.
Kirkus Reviews
Two sociopaths are a crowd, as Miami-Dade forensic tech Dexter Morgan (Dexter is Delicious,2010, etc.) realizes when he's crowded by a wannabe who seems bent on taking over his gig as the bloody scourge of Miami's worst citizens.

Just as he's cleaning up the considerable mess after executing Puffalump, né Steve Valentine, the pederast clown who'd killed at least three little boys before meeting his doom, Dexter realizes he's been seen at work by someone driving a beat-up Honda. Once a series of unfortunate events allows the witness to connect a name to Dexter's face, he announces his intentions via e-mail. There's a new serial killer in town, smirks the unknown witness, and he intends to learn everything he can from Dexter and then toss his unwilling teacher aside. Of course, Dexter doesn't take this threat to his star billing lightly. His attempts to track down the witness go south, though, when he stumbles over a victim butchered in much the way he would have done the job and hears police sirens in the distance. Dexter escapes this crime scene to return to his wife Rita, who's obsessed with finding the perfect new house for their growing family—her daughter Astor, son Cody and newborn Lily Anne. But Dexter's latest nemesis, remaining one step ahead of him, commits a copycat murder that reopens a case Dexter's adoptive sister Deborah had just solved for Miami-Dade. This throws a deep professional shadow over both Debs and Dexter while the newbie plots his next move and Dexter wonders how he can kill his tormentor even though he's being dogged by his old enemy Sgt. Doakes, and his hands are swollen by poison ivy.

Lindsay, who remains less interested in mystery than in the archly virtuoso first-person narration of his appealingly monstrous Human Impersonator, provides another guilty pleasure. Really, really guilty.

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780307474933
  • Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
  • Publication date: 6/12/2012
  • Series: Dexter Series , #6
  • Pages: 352
  • Sales rank: 47856
  • Product dimensions: 5.20 (w) x 7.90 (h) x 0.90 (d)

Meet the Author

JEFF LINDSAY is the New York Times bestselling author and creator of the Dexter novels, the inspiration for the hit Showtime and CBS series Dexter. He lives in South Florida with his wife and three children.

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Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1

Of course there are clouds. They take over the sky and hide that pulsing swollen moon that is clearing its throat above them. The slow trickle of its light is there—but any possible glimmer is hidden, invisible behind the clouds that have rolled in low and bloated and so very full. Soon the clouds will open up and pour down a heavy summer rain, so very soon, because they, too, are full of what they must do, full to the point of bursting, so very full that they, too, must work to hold back the flood that absolutely must come, and soon.
 
Soon—but not now, not yet. They must wait, too, swelling with the power of all that is growing in them, the true and blinding cur- rent of what will come, of what must come when it is right, when it is beyond necessary and into the true shape of this moment, when it forges the real and necessary skeleton of now—
 
But that time is not yet here, not yet. And so the clouds glower and bunch and wait, letting the need build, and the tension grows with it. It will be soon; it has to be soon. In only a few moments these dark and silent clouds will shatter the silence of the night with the unbearable bright omnipotence of their might and blast the darkness into flickering shards—and then, only then, the release will come.
 
The clouds will open up and all the tension of holding in so much weight will flow out in the pure bliss of letting go, and the clean joy of it will pour out and flood the world with its oh-so-happy gift of light and liberation.
 
That moment is near, so tantalizingly close—but it is not yet. And so the clouds wait for that just-right moment, growing their darkness, swelling even bigger and heavier with shadow, until they absolutely must let go.
 
And here below, in the lightless night? Here on the ground, in the stark pool of shadow these clouds have made with their moon-sheltering sky-hogging sulkiness? What can this be, over there, skyless and dark, sliding through the night so very full and ready and waiting, just like the clouds? And it is waiting, whatever its dark self might be; it waits tense and coiled and watching for that perfect moment to do what it will, what it must, what it has always done. And that moment skitters closer on little mice feet as if it too knows what must come and fears it, and feels the terror of the stalking moment of rightness that is even now pattering up close, closer—until it is right there behind you, looking at your neck and nearly tasting the warm flutter of those tender veins and thinking, Now.
 
And a shattering blast of lightning shreds the dark night and shows a large and soft-looking man scuttling across the ground, as if he, too, has felt the dark breath so close behind. Thunder booms and lightning flashes again and the figure is closer, juggling a laptop and a manila folder as he fumbles for keys and disappears into darkness again as the lightning ends. One more burst of lightning; the man is very close now, clutching his burden and holding a car key in the air. And he is gone again in black stillness. There is sudden silence, a complete hush, as if nothing anywhere is breathing and even the darkness is holding its breath—
 
And then there comes a sudden rush of wind and a last hammer of thunder and the whole world cries out, Now.
 
Now.
 
And all that must happen in this dark summer night begins to happen. The skies open up and let go of their burden, the world begins to breathe again, and here in the newly wet darkness other tensions flex and uncoil so very slowly, carefully, reaching their soft sharp tendrils out toward the fumbling, clownlike figure now scrabbling to unlock his car in this sudden rain. The car’s door swings open, the laptop and folder thump onto the seat, and then the soft and doughy man slides in behind the wheel, slams the door, and takes a deep breath as he wipes the water from his face. And he smiles, a smile of small triumph, something he does a lot these days. Steve Valentine is a happy man; things have gone his way a lot lately and he thinks they have gone his way again tonight. For Steve Valentine, life is very good.
 
It is also almost over.
 
Steve Valentine is a clown. Not a buffoon, not a happy caricature of inept normality. He is a real clown, who runs ads in the local papers and hires out for children’s parties. Unfortunately, it is not the bright laughter of childish innocence that he lives for, and his sleight of hand has gotten somewhat out of hand. He has been arrested and released twice when parents pointed out to the police that you don’t really need to take a child into a dark closet to show him balloon animals.
 
They had to let him go both times for lack of evidence, but Valentine took the hint; from that point on nobody has complained—how could they? But he has not stopped entertaining the children, certainly not. Leopards do not change their spots, and Valentine has not changed his. He just got wiser, darker, as wounded predators do. He has moved on into a more permanent game and he thinks he has found a way to play and never pay.
 
He is wrong.
Tonight the bill comes due.
Valentine lives in a run-down apartment building just north of Opa-locka airport. The building looks at least fifty years old. Abandoned cars litter the street in front, some of them burned-out. The building shakes slightly when corporate jets fly low overhead, landing or taking off, and that sound interrupts the constant white noise of traffic on the nearby expressway.
 
Valentine’s apartment is on the second floor, number eleven, and it has a very good view of a rotting playground with a rusting jungle gym, a tilting slide, and a basketball hoop with no net. Valentine has put a battered lawn chair on the balcony of his apartment, placed so he has a perfect view of the playground. He can sit and sip a beer and watch the children play and think his happy thoughts about playing with them.
 
And he does. He has played with at least three young boys that we know about and probably more. In the last year and a half small bodies have been pulled from a nearby canal on three occasions. They had been sexually abused and then strangled. The boys were all from this neighborhood, which means that their parents are poor and probably in this country illegally. That means that even when their children were killed they had very little to say to the police—and that makes their children perfect targets for Valentine. Three times, at least, and the police have no leads.
 
But we do. We have more than a lead. We know. Steve Valentine watched those little boys at their games on the playground, and then he followed them away into the dusk and taught them his own very final games and then he put them into the murky trash-filled water of the canal. And he went satisfied back to his decrepit lawn chair, opened a beer, and watched the playground for a new little friend.
 
Valentine thought he was very clever. He thought he had learned his lesson and found a better way to live out his dreams and make a home for his alternative lifestyle and there was nobody smart enough to catch him and make him stop. Until now he has been right.
 
Until tonight.
 
Valentine had not been in his apartment when the cops came to investigate the three dead boys, and that was not luck. That was part of his predator’s cleverness; he has a scanner for listening to police radio traffic. He knew when they were in the area. It would not be often. The police did not like to come to neighborhoods like this one, where the best they could hope for was hostile indifference. That is one reason Valentine lives here. But when the cops do come, he knows about it.
 
The cops come if they have to, and they have to if Somebody calls 911 to report a couple fighting in apartment eleven on the second floor, and if Somebody says the fight ended suddenly with the sound of screaming terror followed by silence, they come quickly.
 
And when Valentine hears them on his scanner, coming to his address, to his apartment, he will naturally want to be sure he is somewhere else before they get here. He will take any material he has that hints at his hobby—and he will have some material, they always do—and he will hurry downstairs and out into the darkness to his car, thinking that he can drive away until the radio tells him that things have calmed down again.
 
He will not think that Someone would bother to look up his car’s registration and know that he drives a light blue twelve-year-old Chevrolet Blazer with Choose Life! plates on it and a magnetic sign on the door that says, Puffalump the Clown. And he will not think that Something might be waiting for him in the backseat of this car, hunched down carefully into the shadows.
 
He will be wrong about both of those things. Someone does know his car, and Something does wait silently hunkered down on the floor of the dark backseat of the old Chevy, waits while Valentine finishes wiping his face and smiling his secret smile of small triumph and finally—finally—puts the key in the ignition and starts the engine.
 
And as the car sputters into life, the moment comes, suddenly, finally, and Something roars up and out of the darkness and snakes a blinding-fast loop of fifty-pound-test nylon fishing line around Valentine’s doughy neck and pulls it tight before he can say anything more than, “Guck—!” and he begins to flail his arms in a stupid, weak, pitiful way that makes Someone feel the cold contemptuous power running up the nylon line and deep into the hands holding it. And now the smile has melted from Valentine’s face and flowed instead onto ours and we are there so close behind him that we can smell his fear and hear the terrified thumping of his heart and feel his lack of breath and this is good.
 
“You belong to us now,” we tell him, and our Command Voice hits him like a jolt of the lightning that crackles outside now to punctuate the darkness. “You will do just what we say and you will do it only when we say it.” And Valentine thinks he has something to say about that and makes a small wet sound and so we pull the noose tight, very tight, just for a moment, so he will know that even his breath belongs to us. His face goes dark and his eyes bulge out and he raises his hands to his neck and his fingers scrabble madly at the noose for a few seconds until everything goes dark for him and his hands slide down into his lap and he slumps forward and begins to fade away and so we ease up on the noose because it is still too soon, much too soon for him.
 
His shoulders move and he makes a sound like a rusty ratchet as he takes in one more breath, one more in the quickly dwindling number of breaths he has left to him, and because he does not yet know that the number is so very small he takes another quickly, a little easier, and he straightens up and wastes his precious air by croaking, “What the fuck!”
 
A string of nasty mucus drips from his nose and his voice sounds cramped and raspy and very irritating and so we pull once more on the noose, a little more gently this time, just enough so he will know that we own him now, and he very obediently gapes and clutches at his throat and then goes silent. “No talking,” we say. “Drive.”
 
He looks up and into the rearview mirror and his eyes meet ours for the very first time—only the eyes, showing cool and dark through the slits cut in the sleek silk hood that covers our face. For just a moment he thinks he will say something and we twitch the noose very gently, just enough to remind him, and he changes his mind. He looks away from the mirror, puts the car in gear, and drives.
 
We steer him carefully south, encouraging him now and then with small tugs on the noose, just to keep that one thought in his mind that even breathing is not automatic and will not happen unless we say so, and he is very good for most of the trip. Only one time at a stoplight does he look back at us in the mirror and clear his throat and say, “What are you—where are we going?” and we pull very hard on his leash for a long moment and let his world go dim.
 
“We are going where you are told to go,” we say. “Just drive, and do not talk, and you might live a little longer.” And that is enough to make him behave, because he does not yet know that soon, so very soon, he will not want to live a little longer, because living as he will come to know it is a very painful thing.
 
We steer him carefully along side streets and into an area of battered newer houses. Many of them are empty, foreclosed, and one of them in particular has been selected and prepared and we drive Valentine to this place, down a quiet street and under a broken streetlight and into an old-fashioned carport attached to this house and we make him park the car at the back of the carport, where it cannot be seen from the road, and turn off the engine.
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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 84 )
Rating Distribution

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 84 Customer Reviews

  • Posted Mon Oct 24 00:00:00 EDT 2011

    more from this reviewer

    A Lilac Wolf and Stuff Review

    Silly me - I had no idea Dexter was based on a series of books. My husband and I saw most of season one, when it aired on CBS. I don't think it came back because with all the censoring of language and gore, each episode was only 5 minutes long.

    The cover, with the double blood-covered knives sets the creepy stage. I was actually surprised how creepy Dexter really is. In the series you get the feeling that he really is a decent guy with a serial killing bend. But no, he's a psychopath all the way. The only reason he follows the rules is to stay out of jail. The only person he really loves is his daughter. He married his wife basically because it helps him blend in more and she's a great cook. The kids are psycho too, and Dexter is taking them in hand to mold them to be like him. That's what creeps me out - instead of getting them help he is encouraging them. The baby girl is the only one with a chance of growing up normal.

    The story is from Dexter's perspective, so it does leave all the other characters slightly 2 dimensional. It works in this case. The point being, Dexter doesn't know how to read other people, remember he's psychopathic?

    In the beginning Dexter is "playing" with a guy who dresses up like a clown to prey on children. Dexter does pick people you don't mind him killing. The clown had been taking boys from the park near his hotel/apartment. When he was done with them, he disposed of their bodies nearby in a sewer tunnel. Dexter knew this was a bad egg. He's all set up and working in an abandoned house (isn't the foreclosure crisis grand?) when someone happens in and sees him. The witness leaves so fast that Dexter can't catch him. He then spends most of the book tracking this guy down.

    Mostly I enjoyed the story. But if Dexter was really worried about this guy, he would have made it more of a priority to find him. Instead it was a spare time hobby, most nights spent doing nothing more than seeing his family. Although perhaps Rita's erratic behavior was puzzling him. Even though he doesn't get people, there is enough description that we readers can guess what is going on. Trust me, you'll know Rita's problem LONG before Dexter does.

    Oh and Dexter's brother makes a comeback. He comes over every Friday for dinner and puts on the charm for Rita. He wants Dexter to join him. I thought Dexter had murdered his brother, but then again I can't really remember and the books and the TV show aren't exactly the same. Honestly I like this book better than the show. I may find Dexter extra creepy but it made for a tense, thrilling story.

    So yes, if you like Dexter, then read this book. And as someone who has not read any other Dexter book, you can just pick it up and read it. You might get a little confused when he talks about the rules of Harry. Well when Dexter was little his brother and he witnessed the very brutal murder of their mother (parents?) and were locked up with the mess. Harry, a police officer on the case, adopted Dexter. He saw what Dexter was going to be, and shaped him to only go after bad guys and only after he had proof they were indeed guilty. So Dexter has his outlet but in a useful way...kinda...even Dexter realizes it's wrong he is powerless to stop himself. So I guess if you have to better to go after people who are truly wasting air?

    7 out of 11 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted Sat Mar 31 00:00:00 EDT 2012

    Highly Recommended

    This is the first Jeff Lindsay book I have read. His writing is very well done. I purchased the book as I am a fan of the Dexter TV series. The characters are the same but much different story lines. I really enjoyed reading this book and all the twists and turns it provided. A fantastic book for the Dexter fans.

    4 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted Thu Oct 27 00:00:00 EDT 2011

    Yeah!

    I tore through this book like a maniac! Loved it! Worth every penny.

    4 out of 6 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted Tue Jan 03 00:00:00 EST 2012

    The Tables are Turned

    When Dexter finds himself on the receiving end of a serial killer's stalking, things get interesting. It's just a tad slow in the beginning, but picks quickly and you're back on the Dexter Express. It's interesting to watch Dexter as he grows in both of his rolls: "normal" human vs serial killer of those who have abdicated the right to live (according to Dexter's/Harry's Rules). Am eagerly awaiting the next installment as the character's interpersonal links and frictions continue to develop.

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted Thu Dec 08 00:00:00 EST 2011

    Fun and Fast-Paced

    Another good installment from Dexter although for much of this one he is off on his own and away from the characters that he works with. A few loose ends left to wrap up but it ended at a breakneck pace. I couldn't read the last 75 pages fast enough.

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted Fri Jun 01 00:00:00 EDT 2012

    Awesome book

    Jeff Lindsay doesn't disappoint. I've read every single Dexter book and each one is a masterpiece.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted Mon May 28 00:00:00 EDT 2012

    Great read

    Jeff LINDSAY IS A GREAT WRITER, THIS BOOK IS REALLY GOOD I HAVE READ ALL OF THE DEXTER BOOKS AND I THINK THIS ONE IS THE BEST SO FAR.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted Mon Apr 16 00:00:00 EDT 2012

    more from this reviewer

    This book is pretty much exactly like the previous books, though

    This book is pretty much exactly like the previous books, though the ending felt rushed. There is no growth in Dexter all he does is kill someone, he handles drama in the office, and drama in the family. It felt like 95% of the book was suspense leading up to the resolution. The last 20-ish pages were how Dexter resolves everything. Some of the parts in the book made me want to smack Dexter. It felt like he was oblivious to something so obvious that a child could understand it.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted Fri Nov 25 00:00:00 EST 2011

    Fun Read

    Started a little slow but once the story got going I had a hard time putting it down. I was glad to see that Dexter got Brian involved in his life and hope to see more of that in later books. Loved the ending but won't give it away here.

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted Thu Mar 14 00:00:00 EDT 2013

    I Also Recommend:

    A Serial Killers Guide: Born in Blood - Episode 1

    Got this and A Serial Killers Guide: Born In Blood which is FREE

    Got this and A Serial Killers Guide: Born In Blood which is FREE! I am a huge Dexter fan and are finally finishing up the book series and I am loving it. I hope they continue past season 8 even though they said they won't.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted Wed Feb 13 00:00:00 EST 2013

    Dexter ... Dexter ... Dexter ...

    Well, I love the way he writes and it's a good read ... a great read ... However, it is my least favorite of the Dexter series. I feel like Dexter became too afraid/wimpy and scared!!! He is Dexter for goodness sake ... henacted like a kid afraid of the boogyman for a good portion of the book. Some parts it also seemed too obvious what was going on amd that Dexter was just not using his brain anymore, although that was sorta addressed with him being comfortable as Daddy Dexter. The ending was good ... not quite excellent. I would have involved Cody. It seemed to lack being that thr whole book built up to that moment.

    I hate that I sound so negative because I really did enjoy this book! I just expected more from this writer in this series.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted Sat Dec 29 00:00:00 EST 2012

    Double dexter

    As always jeff lindsay delivers. Dexter is someone we all deep down root on as the good guy even though he is a serial killer. However, he is a vigilante serial killer who takes the really bad guys who are serial killers themselves off the streets when the criminal justice fails society. Every big city needs a secret vigilanty. This one also has a sense of humor, dry maybe., but still he is funny. I also liked in this book how he is working on his relationships with sister, his son, etc. It is so worth reading.------------- review by Judy Wallace

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  • Anonymous

    Posted Tue Dec 25 00:00:00 EST 2012

    Should have named it "Dexter the Dumb"

    I don't know what's going on but Dexter goes from being a cold, calculating killer to a complete idiot. He seems completely out of character throughout the entire novel. It was pretty frustrating to watch him stumble through one act of obvious stupidity to another. Definitely my least favorite of the series.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted Sun Aug 26 00:00:00 EDT 2012

    Love Dexter

    I really like the show and the books. My only problem is that the kids always seem to need rescuing. It's getting redundant. And Rita seems to be getting dumber each book. I mean, how many times are the children going to get in trouble before she wises up? I don't like the fact that the kids also have a darkness. It makes them less sympathetic. I mean, I care.mor for Dexter that I do the kids.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted Sat Jul 28 00:00:00 EDT 2012

    Good book but a few complaints here/there.

    In this sixth installment of 'Dexter' we see our protagonist in a situation quite similar to the plot of the fourth book (Dexter by Design). I want to make it clear that I did enjoy this book and found it witty as ever but I do have a few complaints as well. In my opinion, the book seemed to go on just a bit too long and though I definetly don't want a shorter book, I think JL could have figured out some way to fill the negative space and keep us readers more interested. I also found myself quite annoyed with Dexter for being so stupid as it was so in-your-face obvious who the shadow was a good hundred or so pages before he finally figured it out. Also as I said before, the plot was so very similar to that of the fourth book in many ways. Rita seems whiny and boring as ever and theres hardly any killing which, believe it or not, is kinda the point of these books. After the greatness of the previous book, this one seemed rather dissapointing although I enjoy Dexter in any form I can get whether he is doing his usual stuff or fighting off ancient spirits (see Dexter in the Dark).

    It was not a GREAT book by any means but its still Dexter so I reccomend it to all Dexter fans. I give it 3.5 stars.

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  • Posted Sun Jul 08 00:00:00 EDT 2012

    There is really only one rule that all criminals must follow: Do

    There is really only one rule that all criminals must follow: Don't Get Caught!. In the latest Dexter novel by author Jeff Lindsay, Dexter finds himself in this exact situation.

    For those who are not familiar with the novels or the hit television show based off of the characters, Dexter Morgan seems like a normal guy. He has a solid job working as a blood splatter analyst at the Miami Police Department. He has a wife, Rita, a new born baby girl, two step kids, and a sister, Deborah, who is his only living blood relative and who happens to be a detective at the Miami P.D. While Dexter seems like the perfect example of a suburban father, he harbors a dark secret. Dexter is a serial killer. He feeds this habit by only killing those who "deserve their punishment."

    The novel opens as Dexter is "punishing" a pedophile in a vacant home. Everything seems to be going as planned until he hears someone enter the home. He rushes to make sure he isn't seen, but he is too late. He sees the person leaving, shadowed by the night, and is left to worry that he has been seen. On top of this, someone is killing cops in Miami. Dexter is summoned by his sister to assist in the gruesome murder investigation, which adds to his stress of family life and trying to discover the person who witnessed his crime. When that person beats him to the punch, contacting Dexter through a blog and threatening to expose his secrets, Dexter becomes engulfed in a race to put a stop to this unknown witness before his entire facade of a life comes crashing down.

    The Dexter series has certainly gotten better with age. Jeff Lindsay writes with an assured voice that has grown into a unique style that can only be related to this series. The introspective narratives by the main character perfectly capture the twisted, sometimes sarcastic qualities of Dexter. I particularly appreciate the way Lindsay keeps the novels in their own world. This allows the universe of the novels and the television show to coexist without one seemingly copying the other. While this is by no means a "great" work of fiction, it is certainly an entertaining way to spend an afternoon. Six novels into the series and six seasons into the show, I am definitely hooked!

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  • Posted Fri Jun 29 00:00:00 EDT 2012

    I found Rita to be highly annoying with her constant ADD talk, a

    I found Rita to be highly annoying with her constant ADD talk, and found it frustrating that it seemed Dexter was so dense regarding her very obvious behavior. Otherwise, I loved the book!

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  • Posted Tue Apr 17 00:00:00 EDT 2012

    more from this reviewer

    Love Dexter on t.v. Love Dexter books just as much, if not more

    Love Dexter on t.v. Love Dexter books just as much, if not more. However, this Double Dexter is a bit of a disappointment for me. Not enough action. Debrah doesn't show up enough. Way too much inner narrative. Too much non-speak from Rita. Where is the active Dexter we have all come to know and love?

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  • Anonymous

    Posted Tue Feb 14 00:00:00 EST 2012

    Dexter

    Runs to deede with med bots in front tending to her

    0 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted Tue Nov 15 00:00:00 EST 2011

    Great

    This rocks

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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