By Jonathon King
Along with his first novel The Blue fringe of nighttime, Jonathon King used to be praised for his "powerful storytelling" (San Diego Union-Tribune), for his "stunning" and "superb" writing (Pittsburgh Tribune), and for including "new dimensions to the fashionable crime novel" (Michael Connelly). And, in a starred evaluation, Publishers Weekly in comparison King to James corridor, Robert Parker, and James Lee Burke. Now, in a visual Darkness, King can provide one other gripping, unforgettable tale. Max Freeman is looking for shelter from the known demons of his former lifestyles as a Philadelphia police officer, in his secluded shack deep within the Everglades. yet his self-imposed isolation is inter-rupted whilst he gets a determined name from his ally, legal professional Billy Manchester. there was a contemporary string of suspicious deaths-all aged girls, all from a negative local, and all with vast and lately sold-off coverage policies-which the police were not able, or unwilling, to enquire. Billy believes whatever sinister should be at paintings, and so, to aid his good friend, Max needs to reluctantly pry the place he is not sought after, and act just like the cop he is attempting to disregard he was once. to find an unseen killer, Max will confront not just the hazards of a forgotten Florida cityscape, however the unforeseen and darkish corners of his personal earlier besides. packed with twists, turns, and a wide ranging evocation of a not often glimpsed underside of recent the US, a visual Darkness confirms Jonathon King's position on the vanguard of a brand new iteration of crime novelists.
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Extra info for A Visible Darkness (Max Freeman Novels)
Christ, hurry up, man, hurry,” one is snapping. ” “Keep pressure on the chest, pressure,” says another. “You’re cool, Danny. You’re cool, man. We got you, man. You’re cool,” says another. The paramedics are out with their bags. When I get twenty feet away the backup cops standing at the other side of the group pick up my movement and their guns come up and I am in three sight-irons. “Cop. I’m a cop,” I yell, palms going up and wide so they can see my empty hands and my jacket. The other officers and paramedics look up only for a second and then are back to their focus.
The air had gone thick and moist. I leaned back and propped my heels up on the table and surveyed: Bunk bed. Two warped armoires. A stainless-steel sink and drain board under a hanging row of mismatched cabinets. Old-style Key West shutters at the four windows on all sides and a high, pyramid-shaped ceiling topped with a slatted cupola to vent the rising warm air. The shack had once been a hunting lodge for rich tourists in the early 1900s. It was passed to state researchers in the ’50s, who used it as a home base for studying the surrounding ecosystem.
You are my attorney,” I said. ” I could hear him on the other end, could picture him taking a long draw on one of those fruit and vitamin drinks he had every morning. ” he asked. Billy thought my isolation on the river was therapeutic when I first came south. The ghost with a dead boy’s face, my bullet in his chest, was lodged hard in my head. The river was a cloak against it. Every night I had tried to grind the vision out with late night paddlings up and down the river that were almost manic with effort.
A Visible Darkness (Max Freeman Novels) by Jonathon King