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Dark Jenny by Alex Bledsoe

By Alex Bledsoe

Alex Bledsoe’s novels that includes detective Eddie LaCrosse have drawn rave reports for his or her inventive mixture of vintage delusion and hard-boiled detective fiction. Now with darkish Jenny, Bledsoe returns with an all-new story of intrigue and homicide. . . .For twenty-five gold items an afternoon, plus charges, Eddie LaCrosse will tackle such a lot any case. however the unforeseen supply of a coffin within the useless of wintry weather forces LaCrosse to appear again at a bygone bankruptcy in his past—and the premeditated homicide of a dream.Ruled by way of the noble King Marcus Drake, the island country of Grand Braun is an oasis of peace and justice in a less than excellent international. a minimum of until eventually the attractive Queen Jennifer is accused of adultery and homicide. within the incorrect citadel on the flawed time, Eddie unearths himself drafted at sword’s element to resolve the secret. With time working out, and robust nobles all too wanting to pin the homicide on Eddie himself, he needs to untangle a tangled internet of palace intrigues, buried secrets and techniques, and bewitching women—before the whole nation erupts into civil war.Murder, secret, and magic—just one other day at the task for Eddie LaCrosse.

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It was probably the best-known single weapon in the world. Fame had come hard and sudden to Marcus Drake. He’d claimed the crown at fifteen, winning over the other warlords with both charm and force, and used this alliance to drive the mainland invaders back across (or into) the sea. Now Grand Bruan stood as a shining example of the way a kingdom ought to be run, and rulers the world over were being held to Drake’s considerable standard. He’d set the bar pretty high, especially with his insistence on a rule of law that applied to nobles as well as citizens, a clear path to justice for the peasantry, and over a decade of peaceful relationships with the island’s offshore neighbors.

The figure seated expectantly atop the coffin was a small old man with a white beard, huddled beneath a cloak and heavy cap. His bright eyes peered from under the brim. He seemed unconcerned with the weather, puffing serenely on a long-stemmed pipe. The smoke vanished in the wind as soon as it appeared. ” I said. The old man looked me up and down. “Depends. ” He hopped to his feet, slogged to me, and reached inside his clothes. Beneath my own coat I closed my hand around my sword’s hilt; a single twist would make a hidden dagger spring into my hand.

He hopped to his feet, slogged to me, and reached inside his clothes. Beneath my own coat I closed my hand around my sword’s hilt; a single twist would make a hidden dagger spring into my hand. To any opponent, I’d look as if I were idly scratching myself. But the old man withdrew only a folded document with a red wax seal. ” His voice was high-pitched, almost girlish, and this close his eyes looked a lot younger than his white beard implied. He gestured at the coffin. ” I tucked the document inside my coat.

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