The suspense is breathtaking, the outcome never certain. A series that has garnered no end of awards -- the Edgar, the Shamus, the Philip Marlowe, the Maltese Falcon -- has ascended to a dizzying new height.
In his sixteenth Matthew Scudder novel, All the Flowers Are Dying, New York
Times bestselling author Lawrence Block takes the award-winning series to a
new level of suspense and a new depth of characterization. Building on the
critical and commercial success of Hope to Die, Block puts Scudder -- and the
reader -- at the very edge of the abyss.
Scudder, a complex character who has grown and aged in real time, confronts the implacable challenge of mortality. But he must also tackle a determined, relentless, and icily inhuman adversary, perhaps the most unforgettable villain Block has ever created.
A man in a Virginia prison awaits execution for three hideous murders he swears, in the face of irrefutable evidence, he did not commit. A psychologist who claims to believe the convict spends hours with the man in his death row cell, and ultimately watches in the gallery as the lethal injection is administered. His work completed, the psychologist heads back to New York City to attend to unfinished business.
Meanwhile, Scudder has just agreed to investigate the ostensibly suspicious online lover of an acquaintance. It seems simple enough. At first. But when people start dying and the victims are increasingly closer to home, it becomes clear that a vicious killer is at work. And the final targets may be Matt and Elaine Scudder.
The suspense is breathtaking, the outcome never certain. A series that has garnered no end of awards -- the Edgar, the Shamus, the Philip Marlowe, the MalteseFalcon -- has ascended to a dizzying new height. With this novel, Lawrence Block, who recently received the Diamond Dagger for lifetime achievement from the Crime Writers Association of the United Kingdom, is at the very top of his form.
When I got there, Joe Durkin was already holding down a corner table and
working on a drink -- vodka on the rocks, from the looks of it. I took in the
room and listened to the hum of conversation at the bar, and I guess some of
what I was feeling must have found its way to my face, because the first thing
Joe asked me was if I was all right. I said I was fine, and why?
"Because you look like you saw a ghost," he said.
"Be funny if I didn't," I said. "The room is full of them."
"A little new for ghosts, isn't it? How long have they been open, two years?"
"Closer to three."
"Time flies," he said, "whether you're having fun or not. Jake's Place, whoever Jake is. You got a history with him?"
"I don't know who he is. I had a history with the place before it was his."
If you liked All The Flowers Are Dying, try these:
Two policemen are called to an isolated farm house. Inside are two dead people. But there are no tracks in the snow leading either to the house or away. What happened here?
A stunning display of novelistic mastery - as human, as gripping, and as whiplash-surprising as any novel yet from the writer Publishers Weekly has called "today's Dostoyevsky of crime literature.
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