Season of the Machete

( 38 )

Overview

Cool and glamorous, they appear to be a successful couple on a holiday. Yet Damian and Carrie Rose are psychopathic murderers for hire. On this picture-perfect vacation island, their target is Peter Macdonald, a dashing young American who forsakes a life of leisure to confront cold-blooded terror. But when they clash in a shocking endgame, a hideous truth will emerge - one that can destroy them all.
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Season of the Machete

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Overview

Cool and glamorous, they appear to be a successful couple on a holiday. Yet Damian and Carrie Rose are psychopathic murderers for hire. On this picture-perfect vacation island, their target is Peter Macdonald, a dashing young American who forsakes a life of leisure to confront cold-blooded terror. But when they clash in a shocking endgame, a hideous truth will emerge - one that can destroy them all.
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Editorial Reviews

Library Journal
In Season of the Machete, actor Lou Diamond Phillips does an outstanding job presenting complex accents and distinctive characterizations, both male and female. His steady tone adds greatly to this story of a small Caribbean island paradise ripped apart by racial tension. Damian and Carrie Rose are "Killers for Hire"; they've been contacted by a Mafia family to disrupt the tranquility of San Dominica, a small island catering to middle-class tourists. The Mafia wants to make the vicious killings appear to be the work of a rebel island native who uses machetes as freely as the Roses use guns. When a young American working in an island hotel accidentally witnesses one of the killings and is able to identify the elusive Damian, the murders increase in intensity and the entire Caribbean is threatened with rebellions. This straight-forward mystery moves relentlessly to a violent and unexpected conclusion. Not so fortunate is The Thomas Berryman Number, which suffers from a meandering plot and a bewildering cast of characters. Reader Will Patton does his best to keep things in order, skillfully using honeyed Southern accents to tell the story of an ambitious newspaper reporter who investigates the assassination of a beloved African American leader. Those patient enough to wade through the molasses-thick tale will find a rewarding climax awaiting them as the action moves from murders in the South to a riveting manhunt in the North. Patterson has legions of fans; these two books will find an eager audience. The other titles in this series (e.g., Honeymoon, Mary, Mary, and London Bridges) should be well within the budgets of public libraries large and small.-Joseph L. Carlson, Allan Hancock Coll., Lompoc, CA Copyright 2007 Reed Business Information.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781594834820
  • Publisher: Hachette Audio
  • Publication date: 5/28/2006
  • Format: CD
  • Edition description: Unabridged
  • Sales rank: 896,067
  • Product dimensions: 5.25 (w) x 5.87 (h) x 0.87 (d)

Meet the Author

James Patterson
James Patterson has had more New York Times bestsellers than any other writer, ever, according to Guinness World Records. Since his first novel won the Edgar Award in 1977 James Patterson's books have sold more than 240 million copies. He is the author of the Alex Cross novels, the most popular detective series of the past twenty-five years, including Kiss the Girls and Along Came a Spider. Mr. Patterson also writes the bestselling Women's Murder Club novels, set in San Francisco, and the top-selling New York detective series of all time, featuring Detective Michael Bennett. He writes full-time and lives in Florida with his family.

Biography

James Patterson had been working as a very successful advertising copywriter when he decided to put his Masters degree in English to a somewhat different use. Inspired by bestselling hair-raising thrillers like The Day of the Jackal and The Exorcist, Patterson went to work on his first novel. Published in 1976, The Thomas Berryman Number established him as a writer of tightly constructed mysteries that move forward with the velocity of a bullet. For his startling debut, Patterson was awarded the prestigious Edgar Award for Best First Mystery Novel—an auspicious beginning to one of the most successful careers in publishing.

A string of gripping standalone mysteries followed, but it was the 1992 release of Along Came a Spider that elevated Patterson to superstar status. Introducing Alex Cross, a brilliant black police detective/forensic psychologist, the novel was the first installment in a series of bestselling thrillers that has proved to be a cash cow for the author and his publisher.

Examining Patterson's track record, it's obvious that he believes one good series deserves another…maybe even a third! In 2001, he debuted the Women's Murder Club with 1st to Die, a fast-paced thriller featuring four female crime fighters living in San Francisco—a homicide detective, a medical examiner, an assistant D.A., and a cub reporter. The successful series has continued with other numerically titled installments. Then, spinning off a set of characters from a previous novel (1998's When the Wind Blows), in 2005 he published Maximum Ride: The Angel Experiment. Featuring a "flock" of genetically engineered flying children, the novel was a huge hit, especially with teen readers, and spawned a series of vastly popular fantasy adventures.

In addition to continuing his bestselling literary franchises, Patterson has also found time to co-author thrillers with other writers—including Peter de Jonge, Andrew Gross, Maxine Paetro, and Howard Roughan—and has even ventured into romance (Suzanne's Diary for Nicholas, Sam's Letters to Jennifer) and children's literature (santaKid). Writing at an astonishing pace, this prolific author has turned himself into a one-man publishing juggernaut, fulfilling his clearly stated ambition to become "the king of the page-turners."

Good To Know

Patterson's Suzanne's Diary For Nicholas was inspired by a diary his wife kept that tracked the development of their toddler son.

Two of Patterson's Alex Cross mysteries (Along Came a Spider and Kiss the Girls) have been turned into films starring Morgan Freeman; in 2007, a weekly television series premiered, based on the bestselling Women's Murder Club novels.

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    1. Hometown:
      Palm Beach, Florida
    1. Date of Birth:
      March 22, 1947
    2. Place of Birth:
      Newburgh, New York
    1. Education:
      B.A., Manhattan College, 1969; M.A., Vanderbilt University, 1971
    2. Website:

Read an Excerpt

Season of the Machete


By James Patterson

Warner Books

Copyright © 1995 James Patterson
All right reserved.

ISBN: 0-446-60047-4


Chapter One

Damian theorized that within fifty years man would move onto and into the sea. San Dominica was only a very small beginning. An exploratory expedition. Kid stuff. The people who engineered it didn't understand their own inner motivation ... three-fifths of the world is water. and that was about to be fought over on a staggering scale.... The Rose Diary

February 24, 1979; Lathrop Wells, Nevada

As the stupid, piggy Chevrolet Impala floated through buzzard-infested desert, Isadore "the Mensch" Goldman was thinking that he was slightly surprised there really was a state of Nevada.

Every so often, though, the Chevrolet passed a tin road sign with PROPERTY OF THE STATE OF NEVADA stamped into it by some convict at Washoe County Jail.

Once, Goldman even saw some Nevadans: a woman and small children with frayed ankle boots, turquoise jewelry, faces the color of pretzel sticks.

Somewhere out here they tested H-bombs, the old man was thinking. At Mercury, Nevada.

Then the seventy-four-year-old's mind went walking.

He remembered something itchy about the still-not-to-be-believed Bay of Pigs invasion. Then a very brief, fuzzy association he'd had with Rafael Trujillo that same year: 1961.

Goldman's history. All leading up to February 24, 1979. The biggest day of the old man's life.

Maybe.

A man named Vincent "Zion" Tuch was patting Isadore's gray-striped banker's trousers at one baggy knee. Death spots were all over Tuch's unsteady hand.

"Bizee Izzee, what are you thinkin'?" Tuch rasped. "You thinkin' this is a big-fashion setup, Izzie? That's what I'm thinkin'."

"Aahh ... I'm getting too damn old to think all the time." The consigliere casually dismissed the powerful old capo. It was a typically stupid, if well meant, Mustache Pete question.

Old Tuch told him to go make shit in his own pants-which was also typical.

Also typical was the fact that the caporegime smelled of cheap hair tonic spilled over twenty year-old dandruff.

Goldman had flatly predicted that the final meeting at Lathrop Wells would be ridiculous beyond human belief. Even he was surprised. It had the consistency of Silly Putty. It looked like the opening scene of an Alfred Hitchcock movie.

To begin with, both sides arrived at the farm in the most absurd "anonymous-looking" automobiles.

Goldman watched and counted bodies through the green-tinted windows of his own Impala.

There were nine chauffeurs driving such cars as Mustangs, Wildcats, Hornets, Cougars-even a Volkswagen Beetle.

There were seven bodyguards, out-and-out Buster Crabbe types.

Eleven actual participants besides himself and the shriveling zombie Tuch.

Somebody had remarked at the last meeting that they didn't want to have another Appalachia at Lathrop Wells: twenty Cadillac Fleetwoods suddenly arriving at some deserted farmhouse. Drawing attention from locals or the state police.

So there were none of the usual big black cars at the meeting in the Nevada desert.

All of the twenty-seven men wore dark business suits, with the exception of one Gucci-Pucci fag and Frankie "the Cat" Rao of Brooklyn, New York. Rao wore a black-and-white-checked sports jacket, a sleazy open-necked electric blue shirt, white Bing Crosby shoes.

"Dirty azzbole," old Tuch said. "Azzhole with all of his pinky rings."

"All very predictable," Isadore Goldman muttered. The old man lit up his first cigarette in more than eight months. Then he headed inside, through hot, heavy air that smelled like horses.

Inside the farmhouse it was air-conditioned, thank God.

A Fedders was blowing dust and what looked like cereal flakes all around the rustic, low-ceilinged rooms.

Goldman noticed the other side's head man whisper something to a younger man-his aide-decamp. The younger man looked a little like the Hollywood actor Montgomery Clift.

His name was Brooks Campbell, and he would be going to the Caribbean for them.

The older man, their side's main spokesman, was Harold Hill. Harry the Hack to the trade.

Harold Hill had spent nearly ten years in Southeast Asia, and he had a certain inscrutable look about him. Something intangible. Isadore Goldman suspected that Hill was a pretty good killer for such an obvious loser type.

Within ten minutes the thirteen important negotiators had settled down comfortably around a wide beam table in the living room. Characteristically, they had taken opposite sides at the big wooden table.

Dark, slightly European-looking men on one side.

All-American football-player types on the other.

"By way of a brief introduction"-Goldman began the meeting after allowing just a snitch of small talk-"it was agreed at the last meeting-January seventeenth-that if Damian and Carrie Rose were available, they would be satisfactory contract operators for everybody concerned...."

Goldman peeked over his silver-rimmed eyeglasses. So far, no objections.

"Consequently," he continued, "the Roses were contacted at a hotel in Paris. The St. Louis, it's called. An old gun sellers' hangout through several wars now.

"The Roses were given one month to prepare an outline for a plan that would achieve results agreeable to both sides at this table. They declined making an appearance at this meeting, however."

The consigliere looked up again. He then began to read from twenty-odd pages sent to him by the Roses. The pages outlined two rough plans for the proposed operations. One plan was titled "Systematic Government Assassinations," the other was simply called "Machete."

Also included in the brief was a list of pros and cons for each plan.

In fact, what seemed to impress both sides gathered around the table-what had impressed Goldman himself-was the seriousness with which both theoretical plans had been approached and researched.

They were referred to specifically as "rough," "experimental," but the outline for each seemed obsessively airtight. Typically Damian Rose.

"The final bid they put in for this work," Isadore Goldman reported, "is one point two million. I myself think it's a fair estimate. I think it's low, in fact.... I also think this man Damian Rose is a genius. Perhaps the woman is, too. Gentlemen?"

Predictably, Frankie Rao had the first word on the plans.

"Is that fuckin' francs or dollars, Izzie?" he shouted down the wooden plank table. "It's fuckin' dollars those loonie tunes are talking about, isn't it?"

Goldman noticed that their man, Harold Hill, seemed startled and upset by the New York mobster.

The young man who looked like Montgomery Clift broke into a toothpaste smile, however. Brooks Campbell. Good for you, Isadore Goldman thought. Smart boy. Break the goddamn tensions down a little.

For the first time since the meeting began, most of the men at the long wooden table laughed. Both sides laughed like hell. Even Frankie Rao began to howl.

As the laughter died down, Goldman nodded to a dark-haired man who sat very quietly at the far end of the table. Goldman then nodded at their side's chief man, Harold Hill.

"Does the figure include all expenses?" was Hill's only question. The young man at his side, Campbell, nodded as if this were his question, too.

"It includes every expense," Isadore Goldman said. "The Roses expect this to take approximately one year to carry out. They'll have to use twenty to thirty other professionals along the way. A Who's Who of the most elite mercenaries."

"Dirt cheap." The quiet, dark-haired man suddenly spoke in a deep, Senate floor voice. The man was Charles Forlenza, forty-three-year-old don of the Forlenza Family. The boss of bosses.

"You've gotten us a good price and good people, Isadore. As I expected.... I can't speak for Mr. Hill, but I'm pleased with this work myself."

"The price is appropriate for this kind of guerrilla operation." Harold Hill addressed the don. "The Roses' reputation for this sort of complex, delicate work is excellent. I'm happy. Good."

At this point on February 24, 1979, the United States, through a proprietary company called Great Western Air Transport, entered into one of the more interesting alliances in its two-hundred-year history: a large-scale working agreement with the Charles Forlenza Family of the West Coast. The Cosa Nostra.

For both sides it meant that they could immediately farm out some very necessary dirty work.

Neither the United States nor the Forlenzas wanted to soil their hands with what had to be done in the Caribbean during 1979.

That was why they had so very carefully sought out Damian and Carrie Rose. Les Dements, as the couple was once called in Southeast Asia. The Maniacs.

Two hours after the meeting in southwestern Nevada-on the way back to Las Vegas-a silver gray Buick Wildcat stopped along a long stretch of flat, open highway. The youthful chauffeur of the car got out. He went to the back door of the sedan and opened it. Then Melo Russo politely asked his boss to get out of the car.

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" Frankie Rao said to his driver, a skinny young shark in reflector sunglasses.

"All right, so fuck you, then," Melo said.

He fired three times into the backseat of the Buick. Blood spattered all over the rear windows and slowly misted down onto the light silver seat covers. Then Russo dragged Frankie the Cat's body outside and put it in the trunk of the car.

It had been quietly decided at the farmhouse meeting that Frankie Rao was an unacceptable risk for Harold Hill and the nice young man who looked like Montgomery Clift.

"Typical," Isadore Goldman muttered somewhere out on the Nevada desert.

(Continues...)



Excerpted from Season of the Machete by James Patterson Copyright © 1995 by James Patterson. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 3
( 38 )
Rating Distribution

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(6)

4 Star

(10)

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(7)

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 38 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted August 22, 2012

    Worst James Patterson book ever

    I love James Patterson so I took other peoples reviews with a grain of salt, but this really is a bad book. It's hard to follow and just boring. But I still love James Patterson and will continue reading his works.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted January 28, 2012

    Better Choices Available

    I didn't care for this book at all. Although I am a reader of the crime drama/mystery genre, this book was not very interesting. I thought that it took too much time to get to the point and then it didn't seem to have a point.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted April 21, 2009

    Middle of the road.

    This book was ok. It wasn't Patterson's best, and not his worst. I am on a mission to read all of his books (in order of print) and you can definately see how he has grown as an author.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted April 2, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    Patterson does it again

    James once again, gives us a lightning fast, action packed story with twists and turns to make Sherlock Homes grin. I had to read just one more chapter, until I finished the book in one afternoon. Get this one, you'll love it.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted October 15, 2001

    Very Disappointing

    Usually I am a big fan of James Patterson but I did not enjoy this book at all. In fact, it is hard to believe that this book was written by the same person that wrote Along Came a Spider. If you are already a fan of James Patterson, don't read this book. It will leave you unsatisfied and vaguely annoyed.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 16, 2002

    Excellent early effort

    I found this book to be fascinating. It is definitely not Alex Cross genre, but it is intriguing in its own right. It was so graphic that it gave me nightmares and certainly diminished my desire to visit a tropical island!

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted August 11, 2001

    Dissapointing

    I enjoyed the book once I got into it, but the beginning was slow and confusing. At the end I was left with a lot of questions and a lot of disapointment.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 12, 2001

    Not at all like the usual Patterson novel

    I really did not care for this one at all. Right from the very start , it did nothing to fascinate me and pull me in. In fact I may not finish the novel , something I hate to do. The plot seemed disjointed and choppy. There were none of the intriquing chapters that one finds in the other Patterson novels. It is sad to find that one doesn't care about the main characters in the book. If you are a fan of the Alex Cross novels , this one will seem like it is written by another author.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted August 5, 2008

    great quick beach read

    Great read, fast as usual Patterson books - almost believable... I had to make sure it didnt happen for real! James Patterson is my favorite author along with John Grisham.

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 30, 2013

    Slasher novel; worst James Patterson has ever written!

    Don't get this book even if is offered for free! There is no mystery here, just shallow characters on a killing spree. I gave it one star because the review requires at least one to be posted.

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  • Posted October 1, 2013

    more from this reviewer

    Ewwwww.......terrible.

    I wonder what the purpose of this book was? I couldn't be to entertain. It surely wasn't to shock or titillate. James Patterson, whom some love and some hate, makes me wonder how he ever got famous after writing something this pointless in his early career. It was oddly unfocused and, when decipherable, transparent. Overall, it was deplorable.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 7, 2013

    Delfinn

    Horrible book i love all j patterson books forget it move on 3/7/2013

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 6, 2012

    My favorite book Ever

    Such a goon book i loved it to death and then she died i codnt bieve my giant eyes how it rnded cant belive the serias is over :(

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 24, 2010

    Don't bother

    Not worth reading.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted January 9, 2010

    Season of the Machete

    Typical James Patterson, love everything he writes. So talented! Always keeps you in suspense and never fails to surprise

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted March 2, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    Love thrillers and mystery

    I Love all of James Patterson's books. Once I start it is hard to put it down until I'm finished. Can't wait for his new releases

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 21, 2009

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted January 28, 2009

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted January 15, 2010

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted January 28, 2010

    No text was provided for this review.

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