Heat WaveHyperion, 29.9.2009 - 198 sivua A New York real estate tycoon plunges to his death on a Manhattan sidewalk. A trophy wife with a past survives a narrow escape from a brazen attack. Mobsters and moguls with no shortage of reasons to kill trot out their alibis. And then, in the suffocating grip of a record heat wave, comes another shocking murder and a sharp turn in a tense journey into the dirty little secrets of the wealthy. Secrets that prove to be fatal. Secrets that lay hidden in the dark until one NYPD detective shines a light. Mystery sensation Richard Castle, blockbuster author of the wildly best-selling Derrick Storm novels, introduces his newest character, NYPD Homicide Detective Nikki Heat. Tough, sexy, professional, Nikki Heat carries a passion for justice as she leads one of New York City's top homicide squads. She's hit with an unexpected challenge when the commissioner assigns superstar magazine journalist Jameson Rook to ride along with her to research an article on New York's Finest. Pulitzer Prize-winning Rook is as much a handful as he is handsome. His wise-cracking and meddling aren't her only problems. As she works to unravel the secrets of the murdered real estate tycoon, she must also confront the spark between them. The one called heat. |
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... balcony on six.” “When you write your magazine article, you can make it any floor you like, Mr. Rook. Isn't that what you reporters do, speculate?” Before he could reply, she held her forefinger to his lips. “But we're not celebrity ...
... balcony where Detectives Raley and Ochoa, a duo affectionately condensed to “Roach,” were working. Kimberly Starr rocked her son in a long hug and didn't seem to hear it. Heat excused herself and crossed the room, gliding in and out of ...
... balcony, flipping her notebook to a blank page. “Pretend we're going over notes.” Raley and Ochoa exchanged confused looks then drew closer to her. “I could hear you two laughing in there.” “Oh, jeez...,” said Ochoa. He winced and the ...
... balcony. He fell in with her. “Oh, please, I have two Pulitzers, I don't need her respect.” She gave him a side glance. “Although, I did kind of want to tell her that the series of articles I wrote about my month underground with the ...
... balcony? Pulling up next to her face like some perfume ad in Vanity Fair, those ads that promise the kind of love that life just never seems to deliver. Lucky she shook herself out of that little tableau. Still, she wondered, maybe she ...