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SignWave

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Praise for Andrew Vachss and SignWave Vachss seems bottomlessly knowledgeable about the depth and variety of human twistedness. ... Weiterlesen
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Zusatztext Praise for Andrew Vachss and SignWave Vachss seems bottomlessly knowledgeable about the depth and variety of human twistedness. The New York Times Vachss's writing is like a dark rollercoaster ride of fear! love! and hate. The Times-Picayune An extended meditation on what Dell aptly calls 'the zen of violence'. . . . Fans of the series will lose sleep. Kirkus Reviews Entertaining. . . . Lots of assassin lessons and killing lore make turning the pages a learning experience in the dark arts as much as a riveting read. Publishers Weekly [Vachss] writes a hypnotically violent prose made up of equal parts of broken concrete block and razor wire. Chicago Sun-Times To read Andrews Vachss at his best is to take a ride on the dark side! where the plight of the oppressed and vulnerable . . . becomes the catalyst for revenge-fueled street justice. Los Angeles Times Andrew Vachss is unique among modern writers; no one else comes close to the raw power and intellectual ambiguity that he manifests so elegantly! so coldly. The Clarion-Ledger There is no other living American author with prose as razor-clean as Andrew Vachss! and there is no other writer willing to go so far into such dark extremes! either. When Vachss turns the juice on! the bad guys sizzle. The Austin Chronicle Vachss is red-hot and as serious as a punctured lung. Playboy There's no way to put a [Vachss book] down once you've begun. . . . The one-liners pierce like bullets. Detroit Free Press Vachss explores the horrific intersection of victims and victimizers! evil and avengers. The setting has moved from urban to small-town! but the eternal conflict is as it ever was. Booklist Razor-edged and compulsively readable; the pages fly by. Library Journal Vachss impresses again with his new dark and compelling thriller. Largehearted Boy.com Many writers try to cover the same ground as Vachss. A handful are as good. None are better. People Informationen zum Autor ANDREW VACHSS is a lawyer who represents children and youths exclusively. His many books include the Burke series, the Aftershock trilogy, the Cross series, numerous stand-alone novels, and three collections of short stories. His novels have been translated into twenty languages, his shorter works have been adapted to graphic novel format and stage plays, and his articles have appeared in Parade, Antaeus, Esquire, Playboy, and The New York Times, among other publications. He divides his time between his native New York City and the Pacific Northwest. www.vachss.com Klappentext Once a mercenary, later an assassin, and now struggling to maintain a peaceful life, Dell is marked by marrow-deep loyalty and no-limit protective instincts for his wife, Dolly, a former battlefield nurse. When Dolly enters the fray of a neighborhood dispute and receives a thinly veiled threat for her trouble, Dell instantly reverts to guerrilla tactics. His target is George Byron Benton, a prominent local figure who pushes an inscrutable agenda with the deadly patience of a Gila monster-and whose public life may all be an elaborate disguise. Dell is quickly down to cold objectives: decode Benton's end-game, calculate the tactics needed to recapture Dolly's stolen sense of security . . . and execute. With Andrew Vachss's trademark razor-sharp dialogue and inimitable prose style, SignWave-the final entry in the Aftershock trilogy-is guaranteed to reverberate powerfully long after it has been read.Before Dolly, I had given up many things. Some taken from me, before I learned. Some after, when I had to discard weight to move quickly. <...

Praise for Andrew Vachss and SignWave

“Vachss seems bottomlessly knowledgeable about the depth and variety of human twistedness.” —The New York Times

“Vachss’s writing is like a dark rollercoaster ride of fear, love, and hate.” —The Times-Picayune

“An extended meditation on what Dell aptly calls ‘the zen of violence’. . . . Fans of the series will lose sleep.” —Kirkus Reviews

“Entertaining. . . . Lots of assassin lessons and killing lore make turning the pages a learning experience in the dark arts as much as a riveting read.” —Publishers Weekly

“[Vachss] writes a hypnotically violent prose made up of equal parts of broken concrete block and razor wire.” Chicago Sun-Times
 
“To read Andrews Vachss at his best is to take a ride on the dark side, where the plight of the oppressed and vulnerable . . . becomes the catalyst for revenge-fueled street justice.” —Los Angeles Times
 
“Andrew Vachss is unique among modern writers; no one else comes close to the raw power and intellectual ambiguity that he manifests so elegantly, so coldly.”The Clarion-Ledger
 
“There is no other living American author with prose as razor-clean as Andrew Vachss, and there is no other writer willing to go so far into such dark extremes, either. When Vachss turns the juice on, the bad guys sizzle.”The Austin Chronicle
 
“Vachss is red-hot and as serious as a punctured lung.”Playboy
 
“There’s no way to put a [Vachss book] down once you’ve begun. . . . The one-liners pierce like bullets.”Detroit Free Press

“Vachss explores the horrific intersection of victims and victimizers, evil and avengers. The setting has moved from urban to small-town, but the eternal conflict is as it ever was.” —Booklist
 
“Razor-edged and compulsively readable; the pages fly by.” —Library Journal

“Vachss impresses again with his new dark and compelling thriller.” —Largehearted Boy.com

“Many writers try to cover the same ground as Vachss. A handful are as good. None are better.” —People
 

 

Autorentext

ANDREW VACHSS is a lawyer who represents children and youths exclusively. His many books include the Burke series, the Aftershock trilogy, the Cross series, numerous stand-alone novels, and three collections of short stories. His novels have been translated into twenty languages, his shorter works have been adapted to graphic novel format and stage plays, and his articles have appeared in Parade, Antaeus, Esquire, Playboy, and The New York Times, among other publications. He divides his time between his native New York City and the Pacific Northwest.

www.vachss.com



Klappentext

Once a mercenary, later an assassin, and now struggling to maintain a peaceful life, Dell is marked by marrow-deep loyalty and no-limit protective instincts for his wife, Dolly, a former battlefield nurse. When Dolly enters the fray of a neighborhood dispute and receives a thinly veiled threat for her trouble, Dell instantly reverts to guerrilla tactics. His target is George Byron Benton, a prominent local figure who pushes an inscrutable agenda with the deadly patience of a Gila monster-and whose public life may all be an elaborate disguise. Dell is quickly down to cold objectives: decode Benton's end-game, calculate the tactics needed to recapture Dolly's stolen sense of security . . . and execute.

With Andrew Vachss's trademark razor-sharp dialogue and inimitable prose style, SignWave-the final entry in the Aftershock trilogy-is guaranteed to reverberate powerfully long after it has been read.



Zusammenfassung
Once a mercenary, later an assassin, and now struggling to maintain a peaceful life, Dell is marked by marrow-deep loyalty and no-limit protective instincts for his wife, Dolly, a former battlefield nurse. When Dolly enters the fray of a neighborhood dispute and receives a thinly veiled threat for her trouble, Dell instantly reverts to guerrilla tactics. His target is George Byron Benton, a prominent local figure who pushes an inscrutable agenda with the deadly patience of a Gila monster—and whose public life may all be an elaborate disguise. Dell is quickly down to cold objectives: decode Benton’s end-game, calculate the tactics needed to recapture Dolly’s stolen sense of security . . . and execute.

With Andrew Vachss’s trademark razor-sharp dialogue and inimitable prose style, SignWave—the final entry in the Aftershock trilogy—is guaranteed to reverberate powerfully long after it has been read.

Leseprobe
Before Dolly, I had given up many things.
 
Some taken from me, before I learned. Some after, when I had to discard weight to move quickly.
 
Both my childhoods—the one that had been wiped from my memory before I ran from that “clinic” in Belgium, and the briefer but so much richer one that I’d had with Luc—gone forever.
 
To be a mercenary may not have been my fate, but it was the only option I had. When that first five years was up, I left La Légion. I’d served long enough to walk away . . . but to where? The five years gave me French citizenship, but I didn’t want that any more than the French wanted me. No gitan could be truly French, and that part of my chromosomal chain was stamped across my face as clearly as the thickened slab of scar tissue on my wrist. And I couldn’t cover my face with a sleeve.
 
Soldiering was all I knew. I went back to Darkville, and signed on with one of the mercenary outfits. Being a former légionnaire was all the credential I needed. They knew no man would make such a claim falsely—too many of us had later become soldiers-for-hire to take that much risk.
 
But waiting with Olaf as he stayed alive long enough to deliver his only legacy, that was when I decided. That was the moment I knew that the day would come when I would walk away from soldiering for paymasters, and never return.
 
Still, in a strange way, I have always followed his rules. Killing for money, that I did. But when Dolly accepted me, that part of me was gone—the man she wanted was no killer-for-money, and I had to be that man.
 
#
 
And now, so many years later, I was an impossible construct. A force mathematics could not rule; an assassin who once would kill anyone for money and now would forfeit his own life with equal lack of concern.
 
Worse, he would do that only for the one person who could really, truly betray him.
 

 
I spent half my life searching for what I would spend the rest of it defending.
 
That wasn’t some random thought. It wasn’t something I ever consciously considered—it was simply the way things were.
 
If others are trying to kill you, “Why?” is a question you get to speculate about only if they don’t succeed.
 
“Simple” isn’t the same as stupid. My world has been black-and-white ever since I could remember.
 
But my memory—my actual memory, a past I could look back on—that started much later than most. I’m not even sure how old I was—nine, ten, eleven, even?—when I escaped that “clinic.” That’s the word they used for it, but it wasn’t healing anyone. Or curing them, or whatever clinics are supposed to be doing. It just kept us.
 
And there really was no “us.” I didn’t actually understand this until many years later. Not until I was a légionnaire did I learn that even POW camps aren’t what they appear to be. The razor wire and the armed men walking the perimeter—some with shoulder-strapped machine pistols, some with dogs—you’d think that was just one side guarding its captives. But those captives weren’t a single unit. They probably killed more of their own than any guards did; the only weapon they would need for that was betrayal.
 
None expected to be traded for their side’s captives. Men awaiting execution are desperate. Men who would welcome execution instead of the daily “interrogations” are driven past the edge of sanity. Digging a tunnel is a madman’s task. But the plotting, that never stopped. And was never shared.
 
When the guards learned of a plot, or even discovered a weapon, some captives died. Not just the ones the guards took away; those who had betrayed them, too. The most deadly thing in those camps was always their inhabitants—suspicion was God, and traitors were sacrificed on that altar all the time.
 
If any of the captives wondered if perhaps the man they killed hadn’t actually been proved a traitor, they would keep such thoughts to themselves.
 
No barbed wire had surrounded my childhood. There were no patrols. The adults—doctors, nurses, orderlies—they were kind to us. The food was plentiful, and it was good food, not a prisoner’s slop. The place was always the same temperature, and the inside air was clean.
 
But the children inside that place had nothing in common, not even whatever brought us there. Some kids were malformed, huge heads on stick bodies. Some drooled. Some never stopped talking, in a language I didn’t understand. Some hardly moved.
 
All we had to share was the truth, and it wasn’t a truth we could share. Only this one truth: It had to be very expensive to keep us there. All that equipment, even the buildings and the grounds, never mind the salaries. So, really, two truths: whoever put us there didn’t lack for money . . . and didn’t want us in their lives.
 
I knew what “retrograde amnesia” was. Not because I was so smart, but because the doctors explained it to me. That was why I had no memory of anything before that place, they said. They also said that, if the trauma that had wiped my mind had been powerful enough, those memories might never come back.
 
“You have to start from now,” they would say. Kindly, but unyielding. They either didn’t know what had erased any memory of my life before I woke up in that place, or wouldn’t tell me. For me, those were the same.
 
They would say this “Start from now” as if it was a magic chant. But they never would say where I would be going once I started.
 
Somehow, I knew I could not “start” unless I stopped waiting. One night, I just dropped out the second-floor window of my room onto the soft, moist grass of the manicured lawn, and walked into the darkness.
 
How long it took, I couldn’t be sure—time is more difficult to measure when you move only in darkness. I know I walked all the way to Paris. There, I became a gutter rat. I was sometimes very cold. I was always hungry. But it never occurred to me to try and return to that clinic.
 
Then Luc found me.

Produktinformationen

Titel: SignWave
Untertitel: An Aftershock Novel
Autor:
EAN: 9781101910320
ISBN: 978-1-101-91032-0
Format: Kartonierter Einband
Herausgeber: Random House N.Y.
Genre: Romane & Erzählungen
Anzahl Seiten: 272
Gewicht: 280g
Größe: H202mm x B128mm x T22mm
Jahr: 2016