By F. Paul Wilson
Jack has been on hiatus because the occasions in Harbingers. together with his lover Gia's encouragement he dips a toe again into the fix-it pool. Christy Pickering's eighteen-year-old daughter is courting Jerry Bethlehem, a guy two times her age. Christy sensed anything shady and sinister approximately him, so she employed a personal investigator to seem into his previous. however the PI isn't returning her calls. Will Jack discover why?
Jack learns there's an outstanding cause of the unreturned calls: The PI is useless, a sufferer of a extraordinary water-torture homicide. As Jack delves into Jerry Bethlehem's prior he learns that the fellow isn't really who he says he's. Who-and what-he is can have a devastating impression on Jack's existence and destiny, including one other piece to the puzzle of who he particularly is and why he's been drafted into this cosmic shadow warfare.
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Jack has been on hiatus because the occasions in Harbingers. together with his lover Gia's encouragement he dips a toe again into the fix-it pool. Christy Pickering's eighteen-year-old daughter is courting Jerry Bethlehem, a guy two times her age. Christy sensed whatever shady and sinister approximately him, so she employed a personal investigator to appear into his earlier.
Additional info for Bloodline (Adversary Cycle/Repairman Jack, Book 11)
A. " I asked him. "Good a place as any. And I can get work there. " "You're a writer. " "Yeah, but there's lots of magazines in California. Staff jobs. " "Hell, I don't. " "Christ, yes. " Which brought us back to Helen. She wasn't a virgin. She was having a wonderful time except that Phil's zipper was bothering her. I didn't like to hear her complain. " She was starting to break out into a sweat and you could see she was close to coming. Her cunt had opened wide to me and I was into a nice soft glide.
She'd learned you never spent money unless you had to. You let everything fall to hell and then when the heat failed or the floor fell in and the tenants were screaming for blood you only had to scream louder and longer than they did. You told them you were broke and the city and rent-control and the unions were killing you. You screamed and you screamed and you kept screaming until the tenants went away wondering how long it would be before somebody locked you up, you poor crazy bitch. But what you did not do, you did not spend a fucking penny.
And Stroup was left to reflect glumly that everybody seemed to be having a fine old time at his game but him. His luck would have to change. It just had to. This time he picked a sevenpointer. Ah, yes. This was it. This was the one. Close your eyes and lie down, he read. The player of your choice will use his or her tongue on you however you wish, for however long you wish and however lasciviously. " He showed her the card. The floor felt cold against his ass. He didn't mind. He closed his eyes and heard Shiela kneel down beside him, felt her hair trailing over his chest.