Ça commence comme ça : t'as un gars qui fait du patin à roulettes dans Paris.Il arrive devant une terrasse de brasserie, s'arrête et flingue un consommateur.N'après quoi, il file comme un dard.Le consommateur avait un sac bourré d'osier à ses pieds. Mais personne ne s'en préoccupe.Tu trouves pas ça blizzard, toi ?Si, hein ?Ben alors, qu'est-ce que tu veux que je te dise ? Lis ce book ! A moins que tu sois maso et rêves de mourir idiot !

SEIFAM VAJADZĪGS KRAMPLAUZISANATOLS IMERMANISROMĀNS PAMFLETSIZDEVNIECĪBA «LIESMA» RĪGA 1978Mākslinieks E. Ozoliņš© «Liesma», 1978

Edinburgh, ‘a mad god’s dream / Fitful and dark’, is about to become the home of the first Scottish parliament in nigh on three hundred years. It’s a momentous time and political passions run high...Detective Inspector John Rebus is charged with liaison, thanks to the new parliament being resident at Queensberry House bang in the middle of his St. Leonard’s patch. Queensberry House is home not just to the new Scotland’s rulers to be, but to the legend of a young man roasted on a spit by a madman. A fate befitting its new inhabitants, some would say.When the fireplace where the youth died is uncovered, another more recent murder victim is brought out into the daylight. Days later, in the gardens outside, Queensberry House’s third body is found. This time the victim is no mummified mystery man, but Roddy Grieve, a prospective MSP, and the powers that be are on Rebus’s back demanding instant answers.Roddy Grieve’s notoriety brings a whole host of problems, including his seductive sister Lorna, one of Rebus’s youthful fantasies made flesh. What’s worse, as the case progresses, the Inspector finds himself face to face with one of Edinburgh’s most notorious criminals — a man he thought safely out of harm’s way for years to come. Someone’s going to make a lot of money out of Scotland’s independence and where there’s big money at stake, darkness gathers.

Once, Special Agent Smoky Barrett hunted serial killers for the FBI. She was one of the best–until a madman terrorized her family, killed her husband and daughter, and left her face scarred and her soul brutalized. Turning the tables on the killer, Smoky shot him dead–but her life was shattered forever. Now Smoky dreams about picking up her weapon again. She dreams about placing the cold steel between her lips and pulling the trigger one last time. Because for a woman who’s lost everything, what is there left to lose?She’s about to find out.In all her years at the Bureau, Smoky has never encountered anyone like him–a new and fascinating kind of monster, a twisted genius who defies profilers’ attempts to understand him. And he’s issued Smoky a direct challenge, coaxing her back from the brink with the only thing that could convince her to live.The killer videotaped his latest crime–an act of horror that left a child motherless–then sent a message addressed to Agent Smoky Barrett. The message is enough to shock Smoky back to work, back to her FBI team. And that child awakens something in Smoky she thought was gone forever.Suddenly the stakes are raised. The game has changed. For as this deranged monster embarks on an unspeakable spree of perversion and murder, Smoky is coming alive again–and she’s about to face her greatest fears as a cop, a woman, a mother…and a merciless killer’s next victim.

Meet Freddy Otash: corrupt cop turned sleaze hustler, extortionist, pimp, and an actual historical figure who made the 1950s magazine “Confidential” the go-to source for the sins of the rich and famous. In his prime, Freddy raised hell, and in the pages of “Shakedown” he finds himself in purgatory — literally — waiting for a transfer. Will he make it to heaven, or is his fate trending south? Promised redemption if he confesses, Freddy writes a tell-all peopled by Hollywood greats like Liz Taylor, Marilyn Monroe, John Wayne, and Gary Cooper (to name a few), who are up to all sorts of wrong. Threesomes, foursomes, men’s room misadventures — anything goes in this licentious world.

They were dead, the husband and wife. Both were shot in the face at close range with a shotgun. The husband, in fact, still had his finger on the trigger, the barrel pointing toward what used to be a significant portion of his head. It was clearly a suicide — or did it just look that way? For Detectives Steve Carella and Bert Kling, what seems to be the truth on the surface often reveals something far different underneath.A killer is murdering married women and their husbands. But setting up shop in the 87th Precinct was the wrong move. Carella and Kling don’t buy the suicide theory, and soon enough they are on the killer’s trail. The only trouble is the murderous crime wave ripping through the city has gathered momentum.