Passions in Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

Passions in Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

Amazon / B&N / Kobo / Google Play / Apple / BAM / Bookbub

 

Description:
On a hot August night, Lt. Eve Dallas and her husband, Roarke, speed through the streets of Manhattan to the Down and Dirty club, where a joyful, boisterous pre-wedding girls’ night out has turned into a murder scene. One of the brides lies in a pool of blood, garroted in a private room where she was preparing a surprise for her fiancée—two scrimped and saved-for tickets to Hawaii.

Despite the dozens of people present, useful witnesses are hard to come by. It all brings back some bad memories for Eve. In her uniform days, she’d suffered an assault in the very same room—but she’d been able to fight back and survive. She’d gotten justice. And now she needs to provide some for poor young Erin.

Eve knows that the level of violence and the apparent premeditation involved suggest a volatile mix of hidden, heated passion and ice-cold calculation. This is a crime that can be countered only by hard detective work and relentless dedication—and Eve will not stop until she finds the killer who destroyed this couple’s dreams before the honeymoon even began…

 

 

Review:

Passions in Death by J.D. Robb is the 59th book in her fantastic Eve Dallas series.  I have noted previously that I am a huge fan of this wonderful series, having read every book and novellas. I also love Eve and Roarke, who I still consider the best literary couple. Passions in Death was another fantastic addition to this series.  I will never have enough of this series, and marvel how Robb continues to give us fascinating stories at 59 books later.

The story begins at the Down & Dirty Club, where a pre-wedding bachelorette party are dancing and drinking the night away, celebrating two women’s upcoming nuptials. Shauna Hunnicut and Erin Albright are getting married in a few days. Erin slips away to a private room to fix up a special surprise for their honeymoon; where she ended up being murdered, lying in a pool of blood, having been garroted.

Eve is called, with Roarke accompanying her to the Down and Dirty club, as someone has been murdered.  This was also a memory from Eve’s past, as it was the same room when she was attacked the night before her wedding to Roarke. With Eve and Peabody on the case, the evidence looks like a premediated murder from someone possibly close to Erin and Shauna. Eve begins to investigate all of their close circle of friends. Who within the group is the killer?  In a short time, Eve will lean toward two suspects who are clear suspects, with both having unhappy and angry pasts.

It was great to see many of the wonderful secondary characters, besides Roarke; Peabody, McNabb, Mavis, Bella, Summerset, Feeney, and of course Galahad. As always, I love Roarke, as he was many times with Dallas during interviews.  They are an amazing couple.

What follows is an intense, exciting, non-stop action filled race to find out who the real killer was; with edge of your seat suspense. To say too much more would be spoilers, and this is too great of a story to ruin it for you. 

Passions in Death was a compelling, captivating, horrifying thriller from start to finish. J.D. Robb once again gives us another masterpiece to this wonderful series, which I hope keeps on rolling for many years to come. Passions in Death is another masterpiece to this amazing series, which is always so very well written by J.D. Robb.

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

 

 

 

Share

Random in Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

Random in Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

 

Amazon / B&N / Kobo / Google Play / Apple / BAM / Bookbub

 

Description:
Jenna’s parents had finally given in, and there she was, at a New York club with her best friends, watching the legendary band Avenue A, carrying her demo in hopes of slipping it to the guitarist, Jake Kincade. Then, from the stage, Jake catches her eye, and smiles. It’s the best night of her life.

It’s the last night of her life.

Minutes later, Jake’s in the alley getting some fresh air, and the girl from the dance floor comes stumbling out, sick and confused and deathly pale. He tries to help, but it’s no use. He doesn’t know that someone in the crowd has jabbed her with a needle—and when his girlfriend Nadine arrives, she knows the only thing left to do for the girl is call her friend, Lieutenant Eve Dallas.

After everyone on the scene is interviewed, lab results show a toxic mix of substances in the victim’s body—and for an extra touch of viciousness, the needle was teeming with infectious agents. Dallas searches for a pattern: Had any boys been harassing Jenna? Was she engaging in risky behavior or caught up in something shady? But there are no obvious clues why this levelheaded sixteen-year-old, passionate about her music, would be targeted.

And that worries Dallas. Because if Jenna wasn’t targeted, if she was just the random, unlucky victim of a madman consumed by hatred, there are likely more deaths to come.

 

 

 

Review:

Random in Death by J.D. Robb is the 58th book in her fantastic In Death/Eve Dallas series. As I have noted previous times, I am a huge fan of this wonderful series, having read every book and novellas. I also love Eve and Roarke, who I still consider the best literary couple. Random in Death was another fantastic addition to this series.  I will never have enough of this series, and marvel how Robb continues to give us fascinating stories at 58 books later.

The story starts off with Eve and Roarke enjoying a quite evening at home, when she receives a call to a scene of a murder at a music concert. Sixteen- year-old, Jenna Harbough was at the concert with friends, enjoying her favorite band, when she feels being stabbed on her arm. Within minutes, she begins to feel sick, and stumbles out side and dies; as she was injected with a vicious cocktail of a various combination of deadly drugs. Jake Kincaide, lead singer to the band and Nadine’s boyfriend, tries to revive her to no avail; it is Nadine who calls Eve to hurry to the scene. After interviewing everyone at scene, the lab results show a toxic mix of substances in the victim’s body with the needle having major infectious agents.

The following day, at a different venue, another teenager is injected with a syringe needle, highly infected and she too dies. Eve and Peabody, as well as Roarke are scrambling to find the killer before another young girl is murdered. Slowly, Eve tries to put the pieces together to reveal possible perpetrator, especially after a third girl was injected, but she survived, as her extra jacket limited the injection; and she was saved, with her and her friends giving some idea what the person looked like and what they wore.

With Eve in full control of the case, she and Peabody do everything to identify the real killer. With the team helping out, they needed to explore the dark mind of a young teenager, who was a psychopath, who hated girls who ignored him. When they get closer, they rush to find the killer, who is now after a  4th girl.  Will they save her?

I have to say I love Eve and Peabody together, and I also love when Roarke goes with her on some interviews. I always enjoy spending time with the many recurring characters, such as Peabody, Nadine, McNab, Mira, Mavis, Feeney, Reo, Summerset, Galahad, Charles and Louise.

What follows is an intense, exciting, non-stop action filled race to find out who the real killer was; with edge of your seat suspense. To say too much more would be spoilers, and this is too great of a story to ruin it for you. 

Random in Death was a compelling, captivating, horrifying thriller from start to finish. J.D. Robb once again gives us another masterpiece to this wonderful series, which I hope keeps on rolling for many years to come. Random in Death is another masterpiece to this amazing series, which is always so very well written by J.D. Robb.

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

 

 

Share

Payback In Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

Payback In Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

 

Amazon / B&N / Kobo / Google Play / Apple / BAM / Bookbub

 

Description:
Lt. Eve Dallas is just home from a long overdue vacation when she responds to a call of an unattended death. The victim is Martin Greenleaf, retired Internal Affairs Captain. At first glance, the scene appears to be suicide, but the closer Eve examines the body, the more suspicious she becomes.

An unlocked open window, a loving wife and family, a too-perfect suicide note—Eve’s gut says it’s a homicide. After all, Greenleaf put a lot of dirty cops away during his forty-seven years in Internal Affairs. It could very well be payback—and she will not rest until the case is closed.

 

 

Review:

Payback in Death by J.D. Robb is the 57th book in her fantastic In Death/Eve Dallas series. As I have noted previous times, I am a huge fan of this wonderful series, having read every book and novellas. I also love Eve and Roarke, who I still consider the best literary couple. Payback in Death was a fantastic addition to this series.  I will never have enough of this series, and marvel how Robb continues to give us fascinating stories at 57 books later.

Eve and Roarke completed their vacation in Greece, which extended to a week-long stopover in Ireland, visiting Roarke’s family. It was nice to see the family again, as Eve was very comfortable around them; she also surprised Roarke with an anniversary painting of all the family. They arrived back home in New York, with plans to enjoy their last evening, before going back to work. Eve suddenly gets phone call from a friend, Webster, requesting her to take the lead, with retired Internal Affairs Captain Martin Greenleaf dead.  Eve and Roarke go to the scene, where they meet Webster, and he explains there was a suicide note, which he feels is not real. After examining the note and layout, Eve immediately recognizes that this was a staged attempt to look like suicide.  

As Eve takes control of the case, she and Peabody begin their investigation to find the real killer. The victim was responsible for putting many dirty cops away during his lengthy career; leaving many suspects who could have wanted payback.  I have to say I love Eve and Peabody together, and it was nice to see her team working all together; I also love when Roarke goes with her on some interviews. I always enjoy spending time with the many recurring characters, such as Peabody, Nadine, McNab, Mira, Mavis, Feeney, Reo, Summerset, Galahad, and Eve’s entire police team.

The tension escalates with so many possible suspects, and especially after the son is also attacked within the family home.  Eve, early on suspected some neighbors, from the beginning, but until closer to the end, she finally found the evidence that she needed to set the trap.  I absolutely love how Eve, and at times Peabody interrogate the murderer and get them to reveal themselves.  Amazing.

What follows is an intense, exciting, non-stop action filled race to find out who the real killer was; with edge of your seat suspense. J.D. Robb once again gives us another masterpiece to this wonderful series, which I hope keeps on rolling for many years to come. Payback in Death is another masterpiece to this amazing series, which is always so very well written by J.D. Robb.

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

 

                        Chapter One
Someone had either kidnapped the sun or decided screw the ransom and killed it dead.
For two glorious weeks, before its abduction or demise, it had blasted heat and light so
the sea below the villa in Greece sparkled, diamonds on sapphire. It had baked every ounce of
stress away and left generous room for sleep, sex, wine, basking, and more sex.
No better way, to her mind, to spend a slice of summer in 2061.
Lieutenant Eve Dallas, murder cop, hadn’t thought about murder and mayhem for days.
That alone equaled vacation. Add a villa of sunbaked gold stone, views of sea and hill, of olive
groves and vineyards out every window, top it all off with lazy, private time with the man she
loved, and you had it all.
It was a hell of a perfect way to celebrate their third anniversary.
Sometimes it still amazed her. How the cop and the criminal (former), two lost souls
who’d pushed, punched, and kicked their way out of misery, somehow found each other. How
they’d managed to build a good, strong life together.
Whatever changed, shifted, evolved, that remained constant.
They built together.
Now, after two weeks of ridiculous indulgence—not that Roarke would think it at all
ridiculous—they’d arrived in Ireland under a sky of stacked clouds and dripping rain.
Maybe the Irish were sun killers.
And yet, the green shined so vivid here as the fields spread, the hills rose, the stone
walls glistened in the wet. The skinny road they traveled snaked, and hedgerows dripping with
bloodred fuchsia closed in like living walls.
She checked herself. Maybe a touch of stress but only because the Irish, in addition to
being suspected sun killers, opted to drive on the wrong side of snaking, skinny roads, and
Roarke drove as if he powered down a straightaway.
He was so damn happy, and his happiness rolled right through her. She didn’t consider it
a Marriage Rule to share such a cheerful mood, but it did stand as an advantage.
She studied him awhile—a more pleasant view than the breaks in the hedgerows that
displayed sheep, cows, occasionally horses, and various other four-legged animals.
He had that face. Those wild Irish blue eyes, that perfectly sculpted mouth, and all that
black silk hair to frame it.
Those lips curved, those eyes smiled—just for her—when he glanced at her.
“Not much farther.”
“I remember.”
The last time they’d visited his family’s farm in Clare—a family he hadn’t known existed
during his nightmare childhood, or his very successful career as a thief, a smuggler, a (fairly)
legitimate businessman who’d built an empire—they’d pursued a contract killer.
Lorcan Cobbe, the vicious boy from Roarke’s childhood, became a vicious man, and one
who’d wanted Roarke dead.
Tables turned, she thought. And now Cobbe sat in an off-planet concrete cage, and
would for the rest of his vicious life.
“There’s a break in the clouds ahead.”
She peered at the leaden sky. Maybe, if she squinted, there was a slightly less gray
patch.
“You call that a break?”
“I do, yes.” Ireland, like the green, wove through his voice as he reached over to lay a
hand on hers. “It means much to them for us to come like this, spend time with the family. It
means everything to me that you’re willing to.”
“I’m happy to go. I like them, the whole insane mob of them. And it’s nice to spend
some time here when we’re not with a bunch of cops.”
“It is. And yet, that was a satisfying visit after all.”
“Because I stood back and let you kick Cobbe’s ass.”
He smiled again at the “let you.” “My cop understands me, and loves me anyway. And
there now, see, there’s a bright spot.”
She couldn’t deny what he’d called a break now showed hints of blue.
“Bright’s a strong word.”
He turned, turned again, and there she saw the field where she’d once landed in a jetcopter—with the damn cows—because he’d needed her. Where she’d first met Sinead Brody
Lannigan, Roarke’s mother’s twin.
The stone-gray house, the barns and outbuildings, the thriving gardens.
Even as Roarke turned into the drive, the front door burst open. Sean, Sinead’s frecklefaced grandson, ran out.
“You’re here at last! We’ve been waiting forever, haven’t we? And Nan and Ma made a
welcome feast. I’m fair to starving, as they won’t let me have so much as a nibble.”
He stood, fair-haired and bright-eyed, in the dripping rain.
“I’ll help with the bags.”
“There’s a good lad. And how’s it all going, Sean?”
“Fine and well. Are you wearing your weapon then?” he asked Eve. “Can I see it?”
“No and no.”
“Ah well.” He shouldered a bag Roarke handed him. “Maybe later then. We’ve had no
trouble, not even a bit, since last you came. But maybe now we’ll have some.”
“Bring that bag in,” Sinead, honey-blond hair in a sleek tail, hands on narrow hips, called
from the doorway. “And stop badgering your cousins. Welcome, welcome to you both. We’ve
missed your faces. No, no, don’t bother with the bags.”
She embraced Roarke, held a moment, then turned to Eve to do the same. “We’ve
enough able men to bring them in and up to your room.”
Inside, all color and movement, voices raised in greeting, more hugs. Eve figured she
hugged more in five minutes at the Brody farm than she did in a couple of years—or more—
otherwise.
Someone handed her a glass of wine.
Food covered the counters in the farmhouse kitchen that smelled of fresh-baked bread
and roasted chicken.
The chicken might’ve been clucking out in the coop that morning, but Eve wasn’t going
to think about it.
Someone handed her a plate piled with enough food for three starving people. A pair of
dogs raced by, then a couple of kids.
Sinead drew her aside.
“I’ve the gift you had sent ahead tucked away. You’ll just let me know when you want
it.”
“I guess after all this.”
“We’ll take it up to your room then?”
“Oh. No. He should have it here. Everyone’s here. At least I think they are.”
“Every mother’s son and daughter. I didn’t know if you’d want a private moment for it.”
“No, it’s . . . family. It’s a family thing.”
Green eyes soft, Sinead kissed her cheek. “I’m grateful for you, Eve. If I haven’t said so,
know I’m grateful for you. Now, let’s get you a seat so you can eat. Make room there, Liam, our
Eve has legs longer than yours.”
So she sat, the long-legged cop with her choppy brown hair and whiskey-colored eyes,
in the middle of noise and confusion that could rival a New York traffic jam.
She hadn’t known family, only abuse and violence, and had forged a career founded on
standing for the dead. She had family now—the family she’d made, often despite herself, in
New York.
And family here, in an Irish farmhouse.
She caught Roarke’s eye in the melee. When he raised his glass to her in a quick toast,
she did the same.”
***
She hadn’t planned just how to give him his anniversary gift, hadn’t been entirely sure she
could pull it off since she’d come up with the idea.
But when she’d considered giving it to him in Greece, alone, it hadn’t seemed the right
way.
After the feast, with the family sprawled in the living room, dining room, and kitchen,
with a dog snoring and a baby nursing, with Roarke’s great-grandmother knitting something or
other, seemed like the right way.
“Are you sure now?” Sinead asked when they went into a parlor, into a cupboard. “I
haven’t seen it or—at great cost, I’ll add—given into the temptation to take a peek, but I know
the idea of it, and there’ll be tears. Some will be my own, I expect.”
“I think it’ll mean more to him this way.”
She hoped so.
She carried the brown-wrapped gift to where Roarke and his uncle held a conversation
having to do with sheep.
“A few days late—in case you thought I forgot.”
She knew she’d surprised him—a rare thing—when she handed him the long, wide
package.
“Tear it open, would you?” Sean demanded. “Nan wouldn’t so much as give us a hint
what it was.”
“Then we’d best find out.”
More family crowded in as Roarke removed the paper, the stabilizers.
And inside, found family.
The painting held the farmhouse, the hills, the fields in the background. And everyone
stood together—the whole insane mob of them, young, old, babes in arms, Eve and Roarke
centered.
Sinead stood behind Roarke’s right shoulder. Roarke’s mother, lost so long before, at his
left.
“It’s the lot of us. Is that my aunt Siobhan, Nan?”
“It is, aye. Aye, that’s our Siobhan. Ah, it’s beautiful. It’s brilliant.” Turning, she pressed
her face to her husband’s shoulder. “And here I go, Robbie.”
“This is . . . Eve.” Roarke looked up at her, his heart in those wild blue eyes. “I have no
words.” He reached for her hand. “You’ve put Summerset in it.”
“Well.” She shrugged at that. “Yancy painted it.”
“I see the signature. It couldn’t be more precious to me. How did you manage this?”
“Sinead sent photos, and Yancy figured it out.”
“Hand it over, lad.” Robbie took it from him. “And stand up and kiss your wife.”
“That I will. I love you, beyond reason.”
When he kissed her, the family cheered. Then crowded around to get closer looks at the
gift.”
***
Young and old, the Irish partied well into the night. Music—which meant singing, dancing—
plenty of beer, wine, whiskey, and yet more food. Since the patch of blue had spread its way
over the sky, the revelers spilled outside to keep right at it under moon and starlight.
When Eve found a moment to sit—hopefully far away enough so no one would pull her
into another dance—Sean settled beside her with a plate of the cookies they called biscuits.
“I liked the case about the girls taken, then locked into that terrible school place. Well
now, I didn’t like how they were shut up in there,” he qualified, “but how you got them out
again.”
“How do you know about that?”
“Oh, from the Internet,” he said easily, and bit into a cookie. “And there was talk of it all
even in Tulla. I heard my own father saying how proud he was our own Eve freed those poor
girls from a terrible fate, and saw those who harmed them got their comeuppance right
enough.”
“I had some help with that.”
“Well now, of course. You’re the boss of the police, and wasn’t it fine meeting them
when you came last? So, when you found the bad ones, did you stun any of them?”
What the hell, she thought, and took a cookie from the plate. “As a matter of fact.”
“Brilliant, as they deserved it and more. And did you have a chance to—” He punched a
fist in the air. “And get in a good one.”
“Yeah, I got in some good ones.”
“As did Roarke, I’m sure, as they all say he fights like a demon.”
“He holds his own.”
“The one who came here in the spring meant to hurt my nan, and any of us he could.”
Those bright eyes darkened with a hard fury she not only understood but respected. “He came
to hurt Nan, as it would hurt Roarke.”
“He’ll never touch your nan, or any of you.”
“And that’s the truth of it because you locked him up. I think I’ll not be a farmer, even as
I love the farm. When I think on it, I think I’ll lock people up—the bad ones, of course.”
“There’s more to it than that, kid.”
“Oh sure and there’s more. You have to train so you know how to protect people, and
take an oath. It’s why I like reading about your cases. And I watched the vid about you and
Roarke and the clones.”
He looked around at his family with those green Brody eyes.
“Tulla’s a quiet place, but still people need protection, don’t they then? I saw the dead
girl last year, and she didn’t get protection in time. Things can happen here as well. So I think I’ll
be a cop who loves to farm.”
“A good way to have it all.”
He gave her a quick nod as if that settled it. “That’s my thinking on it.”
When she mulled it over, she’d been his age, even younger, when she’d decided to be a
cop. Different reasons, and thank Christ for that, but the same goal.
“Maybe when you come to New York for Thanksgiving, you can come into Central.”
His face didn’t light up. His whole being illuminated. “Do you mean it?”
“It’ll depend on if I have an active case, and—”
“I won’t be any trouble at all. I talked to the Captain Feeney when he was here, and
maybe I can see the EDD as well? It all seemed so grand in the vid.”
Too much wine, too much relaxation, she thought, and she’d backed herself right into a
corner. “We’ll try to work it out.”
“I have to tell Da!”
When he barreled off, Roarke took his place.
“And what was all that? It looked like you brought his Christmas early.”
“I somehow sort of offered to bring him into Central when they come for Thanksgiving.”
When Roarke laughed, kissed her cheek, she shook her head.
“He’s slippery. They’re all slippery when you come down to it.” She picked up her wine,
again thought what the hell, and took another sip. “He reminded me of me—without the
baggage. Anyway.” This time she shrugged. “He’s following my cases on the Internet.”
“Ah, well of course. You’re a hero to him.”
“If he wants to be a cop, he’ll have to learn the difference between a cop and a hero.”
“From where I sit, they’re one and the same.” He took her hand. “The painting, Eve.”
She smiled, smugly. “Nailed that one.”
“You undid me. How did you think of such a thing?”
“You have to ask yourself what do you get for the man who if he doesn’t have it already,
it’s because it hasn’t been invented. Then he’ll figure out how to invent it and have it anyway.
Has to be personal. So, chronologically, Summerset found you, we found each other, you found
all of them.”
She tipped her head to his shoulder. “When you gave me my gift back at Central, magic
vests for my bullpen? You undid me. We get each other. We get what’s important to each
other.”
“You’ve time for mooning over each other later.” Robbie strode up to pluck Eve off the
wall. “I’m for another dance with my niece.”
For a third time, Eve thought what the hell, and danced.
* * *
She woke alone, and in a stream of pearly sunlight. A memo cube sat on the stand by the bed.
Once activated, Roarke’s voice streamed out.
It seems I’m off to the fields. There’ll be coffee and breakfast down in the kitchen
whenever you’re up and ready.
If coffee was involved, she could be up, and she could get ready.
The shower didn’t come close to the multi-jets and steam at home, or the luxury of the
villa in Greece, but it did the job.
She dragged on pants, a shirt, and, with her mind still blurry, automatically reached for
her weapon harness. It took her a second to remember she’d locked it away in her bag.
She walked out in the quiet—unless you counted the occasional mooing cow or baaing
sheep (which she did, absolutely).
Down the creaky stairs and toward the kitchen. Already the air smelled like glory—with
coffee a happy top note.
“Good morning to you, Eve. I heard you stirring, so there’s coffee fresh and ready for
you.”
“Thanks.” Eve grabbed a mug while Sinead, an apron over her own shirt and pants, her
red-gold hair bundled up, heated a skillet on the stove.
“Roarke’s own blend it is, so not to worry. He told me coffee was his first gift to you.”
“Yeah. A sneaky way to get past my defenses.”
“A cagey man is Roarke. And now, can you handle a full Irish for breakfast?”
“After last night I figured I was good for a week. But maybe.”
“Danced it all off, as did I. Why don’t you start with a bit of the soda bread—it’s full of
currants and baked just this morning.”
“That’s what I smelled. I remember it from when we were here last year.”
Now the smell of frying meat joined the chorus.
Eve sat at the kitchen table. It seemed odd to just sit there while somebody cooked. No
AutoChef for Sinead. But it seemed the right thing.
“Roarke’s in the field?”
“Aye, didn’t they drag him off—and his own fault for being an early riser. A Brody trait.”
“Is it? He’s up before dawn pretty much every day. ’Link meetings, holo-meetings with
somebody on the other side of the world.”
“It is, yes. The farmer in us, I suppose.”
“It’s hard to see farmer in Roarke.”
Sinead sent a smile over her shoulder. “But he plows and plants and tends and harvests
right enough.”
“You could say that.” Eve drank more coffee. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“And you, you guard the fields and those who work them, and keep the predators at
bay. It’s a fine match you’ve made.”
In short order, she put a plate in front of Eve.
“I see his face still, the first time he knocked on my door. The grief in his eyes—my
sister’s eyes. Sure Siobhan’s were as green as mine, but the look in them, the shape of them.
My sister’s child. And I see his face as so much lifted from him when he saw you land in the
near field. And I knew, as he looked at you, he’d found the love she never did.”
She set aside a dish towel. “I wonder if I could speak to you about things on my mind.”
“Sure. Is there a problem?”
“It’s not the now, but the before. I’ll have some tea and sit while you eat.”
Sinead took her time about it, and Eve realized she sensed nerves.
“Sure I thought this a good time, with just the two of us, to say what so troubles me.”
She sat, sighed. “We didn’t fight for him, you see, for our Roarke. Just a babe, and with that
bastard Patrick Roarke. My sister’s child, and we didn’t fight for him.”
Because she thought it helped those nerves, Eve ate. “That’s not what I heard. Patrick
Roarke nearly killed your brother when he went to Dublin to try to find out what happened to
your sister.”
“He did, oh sweet Jesus, he did, and would see us all in the ground, he warned, if any of
us came back. In those times, those hard times, Patrick Roarke had cops and more in both his
hands and his back pocket. Still, we knew of the baby and let him go. We let Siobhan’s son go.
And as time went on, we thought—on my life, we believed—Roarke himself knew of us, of his
mother. And more time went on, and we heard—some time after it happened—that Patrick
Roarke was dead. I thought of my children, not much younger than my sister’s child.”
“You thought he knew,” Eve said as Sinead stared into her tea. “And if he’d wanted
contact, he’d reach out to his mother’s family, since Patrick Roarke couldn’t stop him. You
thought—why wouldn’t you?—Maybe he’s his father’s child, and I have my own to protect.”
Tears swirled, but Sinead didn’t shed them when she nodded. She sipped some tea as
she gathered herself to say more.
“And that became a kind of comfort as more time passed. You’d hear of Roarke—the
young man who made fortunes—you’d hear of deeds done in shadows—rumors of them. His
life in New York City. A kind of empire, isn’t it?”
“And not really ‘kind of.’”
“I’d wonder, when I let myself wonder, what kind of man he was. Like his father?
Ruthless, murderous, heartless? I might see a picture of him at some fancy place with some
beautiful woman on his arm. I’d think: Where is Siobhan, where is my sister in this man? I
couldn’t find her in him, you see. I couldn’t see her in him a’tall, so easier still to turn away, to
let go.”
She sighed again. “Then I saw a picture of him with you, this policewoman with serious
eyes. Not so glamorous as others, but more memorable to my thinking. And when I looked at
him standing with you, I thought: Ah, well now, oh aye, there she is, there’s a bit of my sister
after all. Who is this woman who brought Siobhan out in him?”
“She was always there, Sinead.”
Those tears shimmered over the Brody green. “I know that now. I think I knew that the
moment I opened the door to him. But—”
“You opened the door to him,” Eve interrupted. “You let him in. You gave him family.
Regrets aren’t just useless in this case, they’re just wrong.”
“We let him go.”
“You took him in,” Eve corrected, “when he needed you, and opened a door he hadn’t
known existed. One he thought you’d shut in his face. His years in Dublin, with that fucker
Patrick Roarke, and beyond that made him what he is. Who he is. Regret what you did or
didn’t? You regret who he made himself.”
Blinking at the tears, Sinead sat back. “That’s very Irish of you.”
“Is it?” With a shrug, Eve polished off her breakfast. “Just strikes me as logic.”
“You love him, very much.”
“He’s a complicated, irritating, arrogant, fascinating, generous man. I love him, very
much, even when he pisses me off. Which is fairly regularly. And yet. Do you know what he
gave me for our anniversary?”
Now Sinead smiled, dashed away a tear that got through. “I was hoping you’d tell me, or
show me. I imagine it’s blindingly gorgeous.”
“To me it is. He researched, developed, and is manufacturing what’s called Thin Shield.
It’s a lightweight, flexible body armor that can be worn as a lining in a coat, jacket, vest,
uniform. He gave them to my entire bullpen. He’s giving the next round of them to the NYPSD.”
For a moment, Sinead said nothing. “He loves you, very much.”
“Yeah, how about that? I’ll never figure out why, so I’ve learned to take it. You’ll never
figure out the what-ifs, the if-only, Sinead, so regrets are useless. And they disrespect the man
he is. That’s Siobhan’s son.”
“You’ve lifted a weight off my heart. That’s pure truth.”
“Good, because it didn’t belong there.”
“Hearing you say so makes a difference. You trusted us with him.”
After a beat, Sinead’s eyes widened. She grinned as she ticked a finger in the air. “Ah. I
see. You looked into us.”
“I’m a cop,” Eve said simply. “And watch out, because Sean’s heading in that direction.”
“So it seems. You . . . investigated us?”
“You better believe I checked you out. Every one of you. And there are a hell of a lot of
you.” Eve nudged her plate aside. “You’re an exceptional family.”
“More exceptional now. I’ll say again.” Reaching out, she gripped one of Eve’s hands.
“I’m grateful to you, and for you, Eve.”
“Roarke’s out in some field, probably stepping in cow shit in his five-thousand-dollar
boots.”
“Oh Jaysus, not so dear as all that, surely.”
“Conservative estimate.” Rising, she helped herself to another mug of coffee. “And the
idea of it really brightens up my day. So gratitude right back.”
“I’ve a mind to go out, cut some flowers. I feel light and happy thanks to our talk here.
Will you walk with me?”
“Are you going near any cows?”
“Ah, we’ll keep a good distance there.”
“Then I’m game.”
* * *
Maybe it surprised her how much she enjoyed several days on a farm in the Irish countryside,
not far from the wild Irish coast. But the people brought the pleasure. She considered the many
dogs and cats normal, even acceptable.
Cows and sheep within a stone’s throw of the house? Not so much. But she learned to
sleep through the insistent call of the rooster, and kept her distance from the rest of the stock.
On the other hand, Roarke dived right in, tromping through fields in those fivethousand-dollar boots—they’d never be the same—riding on weird-looking machines.
She wondered, seriously, if he’d gone over the top when he milked a cow.
Machines did the real work, but you still had to get up close and personal. And because
he wanted to see how it was done the old-fashioned way, his uncle obliged him.
So she stood, well back, in the doorway of the milking parlor, watching possibly the
richest man in the known universe sit on a three-legged stool at the enormous back end of a
cow who munched on a bunch of hay.
With his hair tied back in work mode, he used those clever and elegant hands to yank on
a cow tit. A huge cow tit, the sort of tit she firmly believed had no place in a civilized world.
When milk squirted out of it and into a pail, she had to hold back a shudder. In contrast,
Roarke grinned and kept on going.
“Will you have a go at it then, Eve? Our Gertie here’s gentle as a lamb.”
“Absolutely not. No. Never.” Plus, she’d heard the sounds lambs could make, and didn’t
consider them gentle.
“It’s satisfying,” Roarke told her.
“Yeah, I bet. What man wouldn’t want to get his hands on a tit that big?”
When Robbie roared with laughter, she stepped back. “I’ll just leave the two of you to
it.”
And when the three weeks away ended, she figured they’d done it all—and more. From
the quiet of sun-soaked Greece to the quiet of green-soaked Ireland.
And cows aside, she’d enjoyed every second of it

 

Share

Encore in Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

Encore in Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

 

Amazon / B&N / Kobo / Google Play / Apple / BAM / Book Depository

 

Description:
Eve Dallas is investigating the murder of a much-loved actor at a glittering party. The spotlight has never been brighter. Or deadlier…

It was a glittering event full of A-listers, hosted by Eliza Lane and Brant Fitzhugh, the most glittering of all celebrity couples. Everyone had expected the party to be in the newspapers the next day but not because one of the hosts was murdered! As the crowd had gathered to watch Eliza sing, Fitzhugh had raised a final toast to his glamorous wife and fallen to the floor. Death by cyanide poisoning. It’s time for Lt. Eve Dallas to make her entrance.

From all accounts, Fitzhugh wasn’t the kind of star who made enemies. Eliza, on the other hand, had many rivals, and a few of them could class as enemies. Since the champagne cocktail that killed Brant was originally intended for Eliza, could it be that she was the real target?

With so many people at the party, Eve has her work cut out determining who could commit murder in the middle of a crowd. As one who’s not fond of the spotlight, she dreads the media circus surrounding a case like this. All she wants is to figure out who’s truly innocent, and who’s only acting that way…

 

 

Review:

Encore in Death by J.D. Robb is the 56th book in her fantastic Eve Dallas/In Death series. I have said this many times that I loved this series, as I have read every single book, as well as all the novellas of this series. I also love Eve and Roarke, who I still consider the best literary couple. Encore in Death was a wonderful addition to this series.  I will never have enough of this series, and marvel how Robb continues to give us fascinating stories at 56 books later;

Encore in Death starts off with a celebrity gala hosted by Eliza Lane and Brant Fitzhugh, two of the most famous celebrities, as well as a married couple.  The crowd gathered to watch Eliza and young co-star sing, and when she was done, her husband raised his glass to toast his wife; immediately falling down dead. The death diagnosed as cyanide poisoning, brings Lt. Eve Dallas to the scene, with her wonderful team, including Peabody and McNab; with the media in a frenzy over the poisoning of a famous loved actor. 

Eve begins a merry chase to discover who is the murderer, with so many suspects.  This is a perfect whodunit, especially being led to believe the original target was Eliza, not Brant.  Both Eve and Peabody investigate those who had grudges against Eliza, including someone from the past.  To say too much more would be spoilers, and this is too great of a story to ruin it for you.  There are a number of surprises and twists, which totally throws us for a loop. 

What follows is an intense, exciting, non-stop action filled race to find out who the real killer was; with edge of your seat suspense. I love spending time with Eve, Peabody and Roarke together, as well as getting to see many of the wonderful recurring secondary characters, including Nadine, Mcnab, Mira, Feeney, Reo, Baxter, Trueheart and her fantastic team. 

J.D. Robb once again gives us another masterpiece to this wonderful series, which I hope keeps on rolling for many years to come. Encore in Death is another masterpiece to this amazing series, which is always so very well written by J.D. Robb.

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

 

 

Share

Desperation in Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

Desperation in Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

 

Amazon / B&N / Kobo / Google Play / Apple / BAM / Book Depository

 

Description:
New York, 2061: The place called the Pleasure Academy is a living nightmare where abducted girls are trapped, trained for a life of abject service while their souls are slowly but surely destroyed. Dorian, a thirteen-year-old runaway who’d been imprisoned there, might never have made it out if not for her fellow inmate Mina, who’d hatched the escape plan. Mina was the more daring of the two—but they’d been equally desperate.

Unfortunately, they didn’t get away fast enough. Now Dorian is injured, terrified, and wandering the streets of New York, and Mina lies dead near the waterfront while Lt. Eve Dallas looks over the scene.

Mina’s expensive, elegant clothes and beauty products convince Dallas that she was being groomed, literally and figuratively, for sex trafficking—and that whoever is investing in this high-overhead operation expects windfall profits. Her billionaire husband, Roarke, may be able to help, considering his ties to the city’s ultra-rich. But Roarke is also worried about the effect this case is having on Dallas, as it brings a rage to the surface she can barely control. No matter what, she must keep her head clear–because above all, she is desperate for justice and to take down those who prey on and torment the innocent.

 

 

Review:

Desperation In Death by J.D. Robb is the 55th book in her magnificent In Death/Eve Dallas series. I have noted this many times that I love this series, as I have read every single book, as well as all the novellas of this series. I also love Eve and Roarke, who I still consider the best literary couple. Desperation in Death is another very good addition to this series.  I will never have enough of this series, and marvel how Robb continues to give us fascinating stories at 55 books later; though this book is one of the darker books in this series, with lots of twists and turns.

Eve is called to a scene where a dead teenager is found; as she notices the clothes/undergarments on the dead girl, she begins to suspect that the girl was a victim of a sex trafficking organization. Eve and Peabody begin a search of another missing teen, who was injured and ran away; they are determined to find the missing girl, before the villains find her.  As the case continues to get darker, it causes Eve to remember her own past, as she is mentally and emotionally distraught; with Roarke and Peabody trying to keep her calm.  We learn more about the missing girl, Dorian, and her now dead friend, Mina; as they escaped the “Pleasure Academy”, only to have Mina push Dorian to safety, bringing her own death.

It was sad and dark, as we see how the young girls are being kidnapped at a young age, and forcefully trained to be a sex slave. Eve pulls everyone together, including other departments to help find the so-called academy and Dorian.  Roarke, who we know, always helps Eve on her cases, and this is no different; but he is concerned how this case is affecting Eve.

I always love to see all the many recurring characters, such as Peabody, Nadine, McNab, Mira, Mavis, Feeney, Reo, Summerset, Galahad, and Eve’s entire police team. Closer to the end, Dorian will eventually open up to Eve, and help find the villains and the Academy; giving her own justice, as well as all the girls rescued.

What follows is an intense, exciting, non-stop action filled race to find the people running the awful sex trafficking Academy. The story is grim and tragic, with the last third of the book being very tense and exciting, with edge of your seat suspense. 

With 55 books and many novellas, Eve has changed drastically from being alone to having so many friends and teammates she cares about.  J.D. Robb once again gives us another masterpiece to this wonderful series, which I hope keeps on rolling for many years to come. Desperation in Death is another masterpiece to this amazing series, which is always so very well written by J.D. Robb.

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

 

 

Share

Abandoned in Death by J.D. Robb – Review & Excerpt

Abandoned in Death by J.D. Robb – Review & Excerpt

 

Amazon / B&N / Kobo / Google Play / Apple / BAM / Book Depository

 

Description:
The woman’s body was found on a bench in a New York City playground. She was clean, her hair neatly arranged, her makeup carefully applied. But other things were very wrong—like the tattoo and piercings, clearly new. The clothes, decades out of date. The fatal wound hidden beneath a ribbon around her neck. And the note: Bad Mommy, written in crayon as if by a child.

It seems clear the killer’s childhood was traumatic—a situation Eve is all too familiar with herself. Yet the clues point to a perpetrator who’d be around sixty, and there are no records of old crimes with a similar MO. What was the trigger that apparently reopened such an old wound and sent someone over the edge? When Eve learns that other young women have recently vanished, the case grows even more urgent—and to solve it she’ll need to find her way into a hidden place of dim light and concrete, into the distant past, and into the depths of a shattered mind.

 

 

Review:

Abandoned in Death by J.D. Robb is the 54th book in her fantastic In Death/Eve Dallas series. I have said this many times that I loved this series, as I have read every single book, as well as all the novellas of this series. I also love Eve and Roarke, who I still consider the best literary couple. Abandoned in Death is another very good addition to this series.  I will never have enough of this series, and marvel how Robb continues to give us fascinating stories at 54 books later. 

Eve and Peabody are on the scene at a playground in New York, with a woman’s dead body on a bench. They are concerned, as its too close to her friend Mavis’s neighborhood; as Bella (Mavis daughter) always loves to play there.   The dead woman was made perfectly up with makeup, hair, nails, tattoo, and dressed in clothes styled from decades ago; and a sign around her neck “Bad Mommy”.

Eve, Peabody, Roarke, Mira, and her fantastic team discover more missing woman, and time is of essence, as the murderer has already killed one, with two known to be missing.  These hit close to home for Eve, as she remembers her childhood and abuse, and recognizes the murderer is acting out his bad childhood with his mother, and uses his victims to be what he always wanted, a good mother.

Eve and her team, including Dr. Mira slowly begin to unravel events in current and in the past, as they realize they are dealing with a psychopath.  Early on we got to see Eve remember her harsh childhood during her dreams, and we also get a glimpse also in the past, to see the villian’s mother and how she abandoned the child.  When another woman is found dead under the same circumstances, everyone is working overtime to find the killer before he strikes again.

What follows is an intense, exciting, baffling and surprising race to find the murderer.  The story is grim and tragic, as Eve pulls all the stops to find the guilty party. The last third of the book was very tense and exciting, with edge of your seat suspense.   We get to see many of the wonderful recurring secondary characters, including Roarke, Peabody, Mira, Feeney, Nadine, McNab, Reo, Louise, and her fantastic team.  With 54 books and many novellas, Eve has changed drastically from being alone to having so many friends and teammates she cares about.  Abandoned in Death is another great addition to this amazing series, which is always so very well written by J.D. Robb.

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

 

 

                          Chapter One
Before
The decision to kill herself brought her peace. Everything would be quiet, and warm and soft.
She could sleep, just sleep forever. Never again would she hide in the dark when the landlord
banged on the door for the rent she couldn’t pay.
Or climb out a window again, to take off. Again.
She wouldn’t have to give blow jobs to some sweaty john to buy food. Or the pills, the
pills she needed more than food.
The pills that made everything quiet, even the pain.
Maybe she’d even go to heaven, like it looked in the books in Bible study where
everything was fluffy white clouds and golden light and everyone smiled.
Maybe she’d go to hell, with all the fire and the screaming and eternal damnation.
Taking a life, even your own, was a big sin according to the Reverend Horace Greenspan, the
recipient of her first BJ—payment and penance when he’d caught her lip-locked with Wayne
Kyle Ribbet, and Wayne Kyle’s hand under her shirt.
The experience had taught her, at age twelve, it was better to receive than give
payment for such tedious services.
Still, suicide ranked as a bigger sin than blowing some grunting asshole for traveling
money or a handful of Oxy. So maybe she’d go to hell.
But wasn’t she there already?
Sick, half the time sick, and her skin on fire. Sleeping in her car more often than in a bed.
Driving from one crap town to the next.
Trading sex in steamy alleys for pills.
It wasn’t going to get better, not ever. She’d finally accepted that.
So she’d take the pills, enough of the pills so the quiet went on and on and on.
But before she did, she had to decide whether to take her little boy with her. Wouldn’t
he be better off, too?
She shifted her gaze to the rearview mirror to watch him. He sat in his grubby SpiderMan pj’s, half-asleep as he munched from a bag of Fritos she’d grabbed from a machine when
she’d pumped all but the last few dollars of her money into the gas tank. They kept him quiet,
and she needed the quiet.
She hadn’t had time—or just hadn’t thought—to grab anything when she’d scooped him
out of bed. She had money—nearly gone now—and pills—far too few of them—stuffed in her
purse.
They didn’t have much anyway, and what they did she’d shoved into a trash bag weeks
before. She had another couple of outfits for the kid—nothing clean. But she’d nearly gotten
busted trying to lift a T-shirt and jeans for him from a Walmart in Birmingham.
If she got busted, they’d take her kid, and he was the only thing completely hers. She’d
wanted the best for him, hadn’t she? She’d tried, hadn’t she? Five years of trying after the
asshole who got her pregnant told her to fuck off.
She’d done her best, but it wasn’t enough. Never enough.
And the kid was no prize, she had to admit. Whiny and clingy, Christ knew, carrying on
so she’d lost babysitters when she’d tried serving drinks or stripping it off in some hellhole.
But she loved the little son of a bitch, and he loved her.
“I’m thirsty, Mommy.”
Thirsty, hungry, tired, not tired. Always something. She’d seen motherhood as
something holy once. Until she’d learned it was nothing but constant drudgery, demands,
disappointments.
And she wasn’t good enough, just like everyone had told her all her damn life.
She slowed enough to pass the bottle of Cherry Coke between the seats. “Drink this.”
“Don’t like that! Don’t like it! I want orange soda pop! I want it! You’re a bad mommy!”
“Don’t say that. Now, don’t you say that. You know it hurts my feelings.”
“Bad Mommy, Bad Mommy. I’m thirsty!”
“Okay, okay! I’ll get you a drink when I find a place to stop.”
“Thirsty.” The whine cut through her brain like a buzz saw. “Thirsty now!”
“I know, baby darling. We’ll stop soon. How about we sing a song?” God, her head felt
like a soggy apple full of worms.
If she could be sure, absolutely sure, she’d die from it, she’d swerve into an oncoming
car and be done.
Instead, she started singing “The Wheels on the Bus.” And when he sang with her, she
was, for a moment, almost happy.
She’d put one of her pills in his drink, that’s what she’d do. He’d sleep—she’d given him
a portion of a pill before when she’d needed him to sleep. But she’d give him a whole one, and
wouldn’t he just drift away to heaven?
He could have a puppy, and friends to play with, and all the toys he wanted. Orange
soda pop by the gallon.
Little boys, even bratty ones, didn’t go to hell.
She pulled off the highway and hunted up a twenty-four-hour mart. She parked well
back from the lights where insects swarmed in clouds.
“You have to stay in the car. If you don’t, I can’t get you a drink. You stay in the car now,
you hear? Be quiet, be good, and I’ll get you some candy, too.”
“I want Skittles!”
“Then Skittles it’ll be.”
The lights inside were so bright they burned her eyes, but she got him an orange Fanta
and Skittles. She thought about sliding the candy into her purse, but she was too damn tired to
bother.
It left her with less than a dollar in change, but she wouldn’t need money where she was
going anyway.
As she crossed back to the car, she dug out a pill from the zipped pocket in her purse.
Thinking of puppies and toys and her baby darling giggling with the angels, she popped the tab
and slipped it into the can.
This was best for both of them.
He smiled at her—sweet, sweet smile—and bounced on the seat when she came back.
“I love you, baby darling.”
“I love you, Mommy. Did you get my Skittles? Did ya? Are we going on another
’venture?”
“Yeah, I got ’em, and yeah, you bet. The biggest adventure yet. And when we get there,
there’ll be angels and flowers and puppy dogs.”
“Can I have a puppy? Can I, can I, can I? I want a puppy now!”
“You can have all the puppies.”
She looked back at him as he slurped some of the drink through the straw she’d stuck in
the pop top. Her little towheaded man. He’d grown inside her, come out of her. She’d given up
everything for him.
No one in her life had ever loved her as he did.
And she’d ruined it.
Windows open to the hot, thick air, she drove, not back to the highway, but aimlessly.
Somewhere in Louisiana. Somewhere, but it didn’t matter. She drove, just drove with the
sweaty air blowing around her. Away from the strip malls, away from the lights.
He sang, but after a while his voice had that sleepy slur to it.
“Go to sleep now, baby darling. Just go to sleep now.”
He’d be better off, better off, wouldn’t he be better off?
Tears tracked down her cheeks as she took a pill for herself.
She’d find a place, a dark, quiet place. She’d down the rest of the pills, then climb in the
back with her baby boy. They’d go to heaven together.
God wouldn’t take her away from her baby darling or him from her. He’d go to heaven,
so she would, too. The God in Bible study had a long white beard, kind eyes. Light poured right
out of his fingertips.
That was the way to heaven.
And she saw a light instead of the dark. It seemed to shine above a small white church
sitting by itself on a little hill. Flowers bloomed around it, and grass grew neat and smooth.
She could smell it all through the open window.
Dazed, half dreaming, she stopped the car. This was heaven, or close enough. Close
enough for her baby darling.
She carried him to it like an offering to the kind-eyed God with his white beard, to the
angels with their spread wings and soft smiles.
He stirred as she laid him down by the door, whined for her.
“You sleep now, my baby darling. Just sleep.”
She stroked him awhile until he settled. He hadn’t had enough of the drink, she thought,
not enough to take him all the way to those angels and puppies. But maybe this was the best.
Close to heaven, under the light, with flowers all around.
She walked back to the car that smelled of candy and sweat. He’d spilled the drink, she
saw now, when he’d fallen asleep, and the Skittles were scattered over the back seat like
colorful confetti.
He was in God’s hands now.
She drove away, drove and drove with her mind floating on the drug. Happy now, no
pain. So light, so light. She sang to him, forgetting he no longer sat in the back seat.
Her head didn’t hurt now, and her hands didn’t want to shake. Not with the night wind
blowing over her face, through her hair. And the pill doing its magic.
Was she going to meet her friends? She couldn’t quite remember.
What classes did she have in the morning?
It didn’t matter, nothing mattered now.
When she saw the lake, and the moonlight on it, she sighed. There, of course. That’s
where she needed to go.
Like a baptism. A cleansing on the way to heaven.
Thrilled, she punched the gas and drove into the water. As the car started to sink, so
slowly, she smiled, and closed her eyes.
Now
Her name was Mary Kate Covino. She was twenty-five, an assistant marketing manager at
Dowell and Associates. She’d started there straight out of college, and had climbed a couple of
rungs since.
She liked her job.
She mostly liked her life, even though her jerk of a boyfriend had dumped her right
before the romantic getaway she’d planned—meticulously—like a campaign.
Yesterday? The day before? She couldn’t be sure. Everything blurred. It was June—June
something—2061.
She had a younger sister, Tara, a grad student at Carnegie Mellon. Tara was the smart
one. And an older brother, Carter, the clever one. He’d just gotten engaged to Rhonda.
She had a roommate, Cleo—like another sister—and they shared a two-bedroom
apartment on the Lower West Side.
She’d grown up in Queens, and though her parents had divorced when she’d been
eleven, they’d all been pretty civilized about it. Both her parents had remarried—no stepsibs—
but their second round was okay. Everybody stayed chill.
Her maternal grandparents—Gran and Pop—had given her a puppy for her sixth
birthday. Best present ever. Lulu lived a happy life until the age of fourteen when she’d just
gone to sleep and hadn’t woken up again.
She liked to dance, liked sappy, romantic vids, preferred sweet wines to dry, and had a
weakness for her paternal grandmother’s—Nonna’s—sugar cookies.
She reminded herself of all this and more—her first date, how she’d broken her ankle
skiing (first and last time)—every day. Multiple times a day.
It was essential she remember who she was, where she came from, and all the pieces of
her life.
Because sometimes everything got twisted and blurred and out of sync, and she started
to believe him.
She’d been afraid he’d rape her. But he never touched her that way. Never touched her
at all—not when she was awake.
She couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here. The void opened up after Teeg ditched
her, and all the shouting, and the bitching, her walking home from the bar, half-drunk,
unhappy. Berating herself for haunting the damn stupid bar he owned, putting in hours helping
out four, even five nights a damn stupid week.
For nothing but one of his killer smiles.
Then she’d woken up here, feeling sick, her head pounding. In the dark, chained up—
like something in a horror vid—in a dark room with a cot.
Then he’d come, the man, looking like someone’s pale and bookish uncle.
He turned on a single light so she saw it was a basement, windowless, with concrete
floors and walls of pargeted stone. He had sparkling blue eyes and snow-white hair.
He set a tray holding a bowl of soup, a cup of tea on the cot and just beamed at her.
“You’re awake. Are you feeling better, Mommy?”
An accent, a twangy southern one with a child’s cadence. She needed to remember
that, but in the moment, she’d known only panic.
She’d begged him to let her go, wept, pulled against the shackles on her right wrist, left
ankle.
He ignored her, simply went to a cupboard and took out clothes. He set them, neatly
folded, on the bed.
“I know you haven’t been feeling good, but I’m going to take care of you. Then you’ll
take care of me. That’s what mommies do. They take care of their little boys.”
While she wept, screamed, demanded to know what he wanted, begged him to let her
go, he just kept smiling with those sparkling eyes.
“I made you soup and tea, all by myself. You’ll feel better when you eat. I looked and
looked for you. Now here you are, and we can be together again. You can be a good mommy.”
Something came into those eyes that frightened her more than the dark, than the
shackles.
“You’re going to be a good mommy and take care of me the way you’re supposed to this
time. I made you soup, so you eat it! Or you’ll be sorry.”
Terrified, she eased down on the cot, picked up the spoon. It was lukewarm and bland,
but it soothed her raw throat.
“You’re supposed to say thank you! You have to tell me I’m a good boy!”
“Thank you. I—I don’t know your name.”
She thought he’d kill her then. His face turned red, his eyes wild. His fisted hands
pounded together.
“I’m your baby darling. Say it! Say it!”
“Baby darling. I’m sorry, I don’t feel well. I’m scared.”
“I was scared when you locked me in a room so you could do ugly things with men. I was
scared when you gave me things to make me sleep so you could do them. I was scared when I
woke up sick and you weren’t there, and it was dark and I cried and cried.”
“That wasn’t me. Please, that wasn’t me. I—you’re older than me, so I can’t be your
mother. I didn’t—”
“You go to hell for lying! To hell with the devil and the fire. You eat your soup and drink
your tea or maybe I’ll leave you all alone here like you left me.”
She spooned up soup. “It’s really good. You did a good job.”
Like a light switch, he beamed. “All by myself.”
“Thanks. Ah, there’s no one here to help you?”
“You’re here now, Mommy. I waited a long, long time. People were mean to me, and I
cried for you, but you didn’t come.”
“I’m sorry. I . . . I couldn’t find you. How did you find me?”
“I found three. Three’s lucky, and one will be right. I’m tired now. It’s my bedtime. When
you’re all better, you’ll tuck me into bed like you should have before. And read me a story. And
we’ll sing songs.”
He started toward the door. “The wheels on the bus go round and round.” He looked
back at her, the face of a man easily sixty singing in the voice of a child. “Good night, Mommy.”
That fierceness came back into his eyes. “Say good night, baby darling!”
“Good night, baby darling.”
He closed the door behind him. She heard locks snap into place.
She heard other things in the timeless void of that windowless room. Voices, screaming,
crying. Sometimes she thought the voices were her own, the screams her own, and sometimes
she knew they weren’t.
But when she called out, no one came.
Once she thought she heard banging on the wall across the room, but she was so tired.
She knew he put drugs in the food, but when she didn’t eat, he turned off all the lights
and left her in the dark until she did.
Sometimes he didn’t speak with the child’s voice, the accent, but with a man’s. So
reasonable, so definite.
One night, he didn’t come at all, not with food, not to demand she change her clothes.
She had three outfits to rotate. He didn’t come to sit and smile that terrifying smile and ask for
a song or a story.
She’d die here, slowly starving to death, alone, chained, trapped, because he’d
forgotten her, or gotten hit by a car.
But no, no, someone had to be looking for her. She had friends and family. Someone
was looking for her.
Her name was Mary Kate Covino. She was twenty-five.
As she went through her daily litany, she heard shouting—him. His voice high-pitched,
like the bratty child he became when upset or angry. Then another voice . . . No, she realized,
still his, but his man’s voice. A coldly angry man’s voice.
And the weeping, the begging. That was female.
She couldn’t make out the words, just the sounds of anger and desperation.
She dragged herself over to the wall, pressed against it, hoping to hear. Or be heard.
“Please help me. Help me. Help me. I’m here. I’m Mary Kate, and I’m here.”
Someone screamed. Something crashed. Then everything went quiet.
She beat her fists bloody on the wall, shouted for someone to help.
The door to her prison burst open. He stood there, eyes wild and mad, his face and
clothes splattered with blood. And blood still dripping from the knife in his hand.
“Shut up!” He took a step toward her. “You shut the fuck up!” And another.
She didn’t know where it came from, but she shouted out: “Baby darling!” And he
stopped. “I heard terrible sounds, and I thought someone was hurting you. I couldn’t get to you,
baby darling. I couldn’t protect you. Someone hurt my baby darling.”
“She lied!”
“Who lied, baby darling?”
“She pretended to be Mommy, but she wasn’t. She called me names and tried to hurt
me. She slapped my face! But I hurt her. You go to hell when you lie, so she’s gone to hell.”
He’d killed someone, someone like her. Killed someone with the knife, and would kill
her next.
Through the wild fear came a cold, hard will. One to survive.
“Oh, my poor baby darling. Can you take these . . . bracelets off so I can take care of
you?”
Some of the mad fury seemed to die out of his eyes. But a kind of shrewdness replaced
it. “She lied, and she’s in hell. Remember what happens when you lie. Now you have to be
quiet. Number one’s in hell, so number two can clean up the mess. Mommy cleans up messes.
Maybe you’ll be lucky number three. But if you’re not quiet, if you make my head hurt, you’ll be
unlucky.”
“I could clean up for you.”
“It’s not your turn!”
He stomped out, and for the first time didn’t shut and lock the door. Mary Kate shuffled
over as close as she could. She couldn’t reach the door, but at last she could see out of it.
A kind of corridor—stone walls, concrete floor—harshly lit. And another door almost
directly across from hers. Bolted from the outside.
Number two? Another woman, another prisoner. She started to call out, but heard him
coming back.
Survive, she reminded herself, and went back to the cot, sat.
He didn’t have the knife now, but a tall cup. Some sort of protein shake, she thought.
He’d pushed one on her before. Drugged. More drugs.
“Baby darling—”
“I don’t have time now. She ruined everything. You drink this because it has nutrition.”
“Why don’t I make you something to eat? You must be hungry.”
He looked at her, and she thought he seemed almost sane again. And when he spoke,
his voice sounded calm and easy. “You’re not ready.” When he stroked a hand over her hair,
she fought not to shudder.
“Not nearly. But I think you will be. I hope so.”
She felt the quick pinch of the pressure syringe.
“I don’t have time. You can drink this when you wake up. You have to be healthy. Lie
down and go to sleep. I’m going to be very busy.”
She started to fade when he walked to the door. And heard the bolt snap home when
she melted down on the cot.
* * *
He had a plan. He always had a plan. And he had the tools.
With meticulous stitches—he was a meticulous man—he sewed the neck wound on the
fraud. Over the wound he fastened a wide black velvet ribbon.
It looked, to his eye, rather fetching.
He’d already cut her hair before bringing her—with so much hope!—to this stage. Now
he brushed it, used some of the product to style it properly.
He’d washed her, very carefully, so not a drop of blood remained, before he’d chosen
the outfit.
While he worked, he had one of Mommy’s songs playing.
“I’m coming up,” he sang along with Pink, “so you better get this party started.”
Once he had her dressed, he started on her makeup. He’d always loved watching her
apply it. All the paints and powders and brushes.
He painted her nails—fingers and toes—a bright, happy blue. Her favorite color. He
added the big hoop earrings, and he’d already added the other piercings, so fit studs into the
second hole and the cartilage of her left ear.
And the little silver bar in her navel.
She’d liked shoes with high, high heels and pointy toes, even though she mostly wore
tennis shoes. But he remembered how she’d looked at the high ones in store windows, and
sometimes they went in so she could try them on.
Just pretending, baby darling, she’d told him. Just playing dress-up.
So he slipped her feet into ones she’d have wished for. A little tight, but it didn’t matter.
And as a final tribute, spritzed her body with Party Girl, her favorite scent.
When he was done, when he’d done his very best, he took a picture of her. He’d frame
it, keep it to remind him.
“You’re not Mommy, but I wanted you to be. You shouldn’t have lied, so you have to
leave. If you hadn’t, we could’ve been happy.”
Number two and number three were sleeping. He hoped number two had learned a
lesson—you had to learn your lessons—when he’d made her clean up the mess.
Tomorrow, he’d cut her hair the right way and give her the tattoo and the piercings. And
she’d see all she had to do was be a good mommy, and stay with him always, take care of him
always.
And they’d be happy forever.
But the Fake Mommy had to leave.
He rolled her out on the gurney—a man with a plan—out through the door and into the
garage. After opening the cargo doors, he rolled her—with some effort—up the ramp into the
van.
He secured the gurney—couldn’t have it rolling around!—then got behind the wheel.
Though it was disappointing, he’d known he would probably go through more than one before
finding the right one, so he already knew where to take her.
He drove carefully out of the garage and waited until they doors rumbled down closed
behind him.
It had to be far enough away from the home he and Mommy would make so the police
didn’t come knocking to ask questions. But not so far away he had to take too much time
getting there.
Accidents happened.
It had to be quiet, with no one to see. Even at this time of night in New York, you had to
know where to find quiet. So the little playground seemed perfect.
Children didn’t play at three in the morning. No, they did not! Even if they had to sleep
in the car because the mean landlord kicked them out, they didn’t play so late.
He parked as close as he could, and worked quickly. He wore black, coveralls and
booties over his shoes. A cap that covered his hair. He’d sealed his hands, but wore gloves, too.
Nothing showed. Nothing at all.
He rolled the gurney right up to the bench where good mommies would watch their
children play in the sunshine.
He laid her on it like she was sleeping, and put the sign he’d made with construction
paper and black crayon over her folded hands.
It said what she was.
BAD MOMMY
He went back to the van and drove away. Drove back and into the garage, into the
house.
He had the house because she’d left him. He had the house because she’d given him the
deed and the keys and the codes and everything.
But he didn’t want everything. He only wanted one thing.
His mommy.
In the quiet house he changed into his pajamas. He washed his hands and face and
brushed his teeth like a good boy.
In the glow of the night light, he climbed into bed.
He fell asleep with a smile on his face and dreamed the dreams of the young and
innocent

 

 

 

Share

Faithless in Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

Faithless in Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

 

Amazon / B&N / Kobo / Google Play / Apple / BAM / Book Depository

 

Description:
The scene in the West Village studio appears to be classic crime-of-passion: two wineglasses by the bed, music playing, and a young sculptor named Ariel Byrd with the back of her head bashed in. But when Dallas tracks down the wealthy Upper East Side woman who called 911, the details don’t add up. Gwen Huffman is wealthy, elegant, comforted by her handsome fiancé as she sheds tears over the trauma of finding the body–but why did it take an hour to report it? And why is she lying about little things?

As Eve and her team look into Gwen, her past, and the people around her, they find that the lies are about more than murder. As with sculpture, they need to chip away at the layers of deception to find the shape within–and soon they’re getting the FBI involved in a case that involves a sinister, fanatical group and a stunning criminal conspiracy.

 

 

 

Review:

Faithless in Death by J.D. Robb is the 52nd book in her wonderful In Death (Eve Dallas) series. I am a huge fan of this series, having read every single book, as well as all the novellas; not to mention how much I love Eve and Roarke, the best literary couple ever. I noted in the last In Death Book (Shadows in Death) that J.D. Robb created a masterpiece. Well, I am happy to say that Faithless in Death was different, but equally as great, as this is another masterpiece. I marvel at how Robb can continue to give us fascinating stories 52 books later. Bravo to J.D. Robb/Nora Roberts.

Eve is called to the scene of a murder of a woman, who was bashed on the head, in what looked like a possible crime of passion.  Eve and Peabody visit the person who discovered the victim and called 911. Immediately both Eve and Peabody question the woman, who not only found the victim murdered, but ran away and called the police a few hours later; she claims she had to get control of herself due to the trauma.  However, they know the woman is lying or trying to protect someone.

Upon further investigation, with Peabody and Roarke, they discover that the woman, Gwen belongs to a huge powerful fanatical cult, involving terrible criminal acts, such as kidnapping, possible murder, political and other contacts that do their bidding, prejudice against gays, and separation of races; not to mention all the money they gather along the way.  After interviewing members of the cult, as well as some victims, Eve knows this is not just a murder anymore, as it is becoming an all-out war to stop this horrific cult; she starts calling in the FBI and other agencies/departments.

What follows is an amazing, intense, exciting, non-stop, action-filled race to find the murderer, as well as stop and destroy the cult, especially with women and children all being held almost like slaves.    What I loved was how all the members of Eve’s police team, were determined to help bring down this cult.   Over time, Eve has built such a fantastic team and their loyalty was awesome. 

In between all the tense excitement, I loved certain parts that lighten things, such as Mavis, Leonardo and Bella showed off their new home (which needs a lot of work), and will also have an apartment addition being offered to Peabody and McNab.  I loved how all of these secondary characters we have come to love, are so close and loyal to Eve and to each other.  We also got some quality time with Nadine, and I loved that too.  This series started with Eve all alone (she did have Feeney), coming from a tragic childhood, meeting Roarke, and now years later (or shall I say 52 books later), she has an abundance of friends who play a large part of her life. Even her police team are great, and totally loyal to their queen. This is another plus that we get to see all these wonderful recurring characters.

The last 1/2 of the book was wild, intense, and mindboggling, with the entire team, Roarke, Reo, Mira, including the Commissioner, and the FBI and other agencies work together to bring down the Natural Order group.  Faithless in Death was so very well written by Robb, and to tell too much more would ruin things, and this is one book you do not want to miss a thing.  This was very exciting, tense, intriguing, nonstop action from start to finish, with never a dull moment.  J.D. Robb once again gives us another masterpiece to this wonderful series, which I hope keeps on rolling for many years to come.  I thought that Faithless in Death was another great book, which certifies that J.D. Robb will continue to give us many more Eve and Roarke books.    

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

 

 

Share

Shadows in Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

Shadows in Death by J.D. Robb – a Review

Amazon / B&N / Kobo / Google Play / Apple / Book Depository

 

Description:
Lt. Eve Dallas is about to walk into the shadows of her husband’s dangerous past.

As it often did since he’d married a cop, murder interrupted more pleasant activities. Then again, Roarke supposed, the woman lying in a pool of her own blood a few steps inside the arch in Washington Square Park had a heftier complaint.

When a night out at the theatre is interrupted by the murder of a young woman in Washington Square Park, it seems like an ordinary case for Detective Eve Dallas and her team. But when Roarke spots a shadow from his past in the crowd, Eve realises that this case is far from business as usual.

Eve has two complex cases on her hands – the shocking murder of this wealthy young mother and tracking down the shadow before he can strike again, this time much closer to home. Eve is well used to being the hunter, but how will she cope when the tables are turned? As Eve and the team follow leads to Roarke’s hometown in Ireland, the race is on to stop the shadow making his next move . . .

 

 

Review:

Shadows in Death by J.D. Robb is the 51st book in her fantastic Eve Dallas series.  As I have noted many times, I am a big fan of this series, having read every single book, including novellas.  Eve Dallas and her husband, Roarke are the best couple in the literary world; they are so great together, not to mention their wonderful chemistry.  Even though this is the 51st book, I still cannot get enough of them and this series.

Shadows in Death is somewhat different than most of Robb’s stories, as Roarke becomes the center of an old grudge, putting Eve, his Irish family, and himself in danger. Eve is called to the scene of a violent murder of a woman, and as she is in the process of investigating with Peabody, Roarke, who is standing not far away, notices a face he has never forgotten from his Ireland days as a youth. Roarke later tells Eve that this man is the one who killed the woman, as it was his motto, using sharp knives to gut his victims.

Eve, Peabody and their fantastic team, manage to learn that the woman murdered, was a paid hit, and early on we discover who ordered the hit.  Once this person is arrested and offered a small deal to give all information on the hit man, who has committed more than 400 plus deaths worldwide, and has eluded police in all countries for 30 years.  Lorcan Cobbe, is the villain in this story, and his hatred of Roarke becomes his goal to kill Roarke, Eve, and their Ireland family. 

What follows is an intense, exciting, action-packed race to find Cobbe, as he continues to kill and threaten them along the way.  What I loved was how all the members of Eve’s police team, were determined to help find the killer, as well as to protect Roarke and Eve.  Over time, Eve has built such a fantastic team and their loyalty was awesome.  I also enjoyed seeing Summerset again, as he knew of this terrible villain back in their Ireland days, also knowing his own life was in jeopardy.  Eve and Summerset still have those fun zingers, loved seeing Galahad.  It was also great to see Nadine, as I miss her. 

The last 1/3 of the book was intense, and mindboggling, with the entire team, including the Commissioner, Feeny and Interpol inspector raced to stop the villain from hurting Roarke’s family in Ireland.

Shadows in Death was very exciting, tense, intriguing, nonstop action from start to finish, with never a dull moment.  J.D. Robb once again gives us a fantastic addition to this wonderful series, which I hope keeps on rolling for many years to come.  I thought that Shadows in Death was one of the best ones yet, which proves that J.D. Robb will continue to give us many more Eve and Roarke books.   J.D. Robb created a masterpiece addition to this fantastic series.

Reviewed by Barb

Copy provided by Publisher

 

 

 

 

Share