|Publisher:||Turner Publishing Company|
|Product dimensions:||8.30(w) x 5.40(h) x 1.10(d)|
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
I cleared the books and papers off the table. My examinations for admission to the Florida bar were scheduled for late July, just two months from now. I was a recent graduate of a night law school in a dubiously credited community college, and most of my friends predicted that I would fail the examinations on my first try. Conversely, a few non-friends, chiefly lawyers in the S.A.’s office, hoped that I might pass so that they could defeat me in court.
After dinner we carried deck chairs out onto the reef. The dog, tired and sore-pawed from chasing imaginary beasts all day, slumped at Martina’s feet with a self-pitying moan. The tide was still going out. It was a relatively cool and dry night for Florida in late May, and the moon-washed sky vibrated with stars. Many of those apparently solo stars, the astronomers told us, were actually distant galaxies, great spiraling systems which contained fifty billion or more stars. Stars, comets, planets, maybe other worlds. I looked for the Big Dipper, found it, and followed the bowl to Polaris. And there was a constellation of lights behind us, too—Bell Harbor, the sodium vapor lamps that lined the bayside esplanade, traffic lights, house lights, auto lights, and neons that bled improbable colors into the dark.
“All right,” Martina said. “What’s troubling you?”
“What makes you think I’m troubled?”
“I know you, buddy.”
“I’m serene,” I said. “Complacent, even.”
“You’ve been fine the last few months, Dan. And now this brooding again. Why won’t you ever confide in me?”
I had never found the courage to tell Martina about the day I had killed Raven Ahriman here on the reef (while she slept in the house), and disposed of his body at sea.
What People are Saying About This
“Just as polished, vigorous, lusty, frisky and occasionally athletic as its predecessor, Dead Men Rise Up Never. . . . Intricate plotting, fast-moving action, glittering dialogue . . . A great shocker.”
—Los Angeles Times
“A writer of enormous talent, a stylist to admire and a storyteller of great power.”
—Scott Turow, author of Presumed Innocent
“Faust writes beautifully . . . he reminds you of Hemingway and Peter Matthiessen. . . . Faust has it all: lyrical prose, complex characters and provocative plots.”
“Faust’s clear, unadorned prose and his deft, pure characterization ring with the force of Hemingway or Graham Greene.”