A Darker Domain by Val McDermid

By Val McDermid

“[A Darker Domain] combines an exhilarating tale with heartbreaking questions of social justice and history.”
Seattle Times

 

The New York occasions calls Val McDermid, “As delicate a practitioner of crime fiction as somebody out there…the most sensible we’ve got.” Time spent together with her striking mystery, A Darker area, will turn out that it’s precise. Set in Scotland, the milieu of Ian Rankin’s John Rebus, McDermid’s very good exploration of loyalty and greed intertwines the prior and current. It used to be selected as a New York Times amazing Crime publication of the yr and used to be a finalist for the Los Angeles occasions Book Prize.

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It had the raddled charm of a former beauty sufficiently selfassured to let herself go without a fight. Unpruned bougainvillea straggled up the peeling ochre stucco and over the low wall of the loggia. If nobody chose to fall in love with this place soon, it was going to be overwhelmed by vegetation. In a couple of generations, it would be nothing more than an inexplicable mound on the hillside. But for now, it still had the power to bewitch. She picked her way across the crumbling courtyard, passing cracked terracotta pots lying askew, the herbs they’d contained sprawling and springing free, spicing the air with their fragrances.

Up and down,” he said. “It’s ironic. ” “At least you’ve got me and Mick,” Jenny said, waving him to a chair. “Well, I’ve got you, anyway. I don’t think I’d be on Mick’s Christmas card list, always supposing anybody was sending any this year. Not after October. ” “He’ll get over it,” she said without a shred of conviction. Mick had always had his reservations about the wider ripples of the schoolgirl friendship between Jenny and Tom’s wife Moira. The women had been best pals forever, Moira standing chief bridesmaid at Jenny and Mick’s wedding.

He got to his feet, his face pink. ” She heard the stumble of his boots in the hall then the click of the latch. She tossed the bacon on to the counter and turned off the pan of water. It would be a different soup now. Moira had always been the lucky one. Thursday, 28th June 2007; Newton of Wemyss Jenny’s eyes came off the middle distance and focused on Karen. “I suppose it was about seven o’clock when it dawned on me that Mick hadn’t come home. I was angry, because I’d actually got a half-decent tea to put on the table.

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