By Bill Pronzini
The writer of Blue Lonesome, a brand new York instances booklet evaluation outstanding booklet, has created one other wonderful novel of suspense. Set in a small, remoted city in Northern California, A wilderness of Strangers is a fast paced, memorable tale in regards to the arrival of a stranger--and the homicide of a pretty, lonely lady.
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Extra resources for A Wasteland of Strangers
His sideways glance then was without apparent interest, and there was no change in his expression even after he'd examined my face and the hollow between my breasts. Not even the faintest spark of lust that usually flares in men's eyes. His were so pale in the dim light that the irises blended into the whites, to the point of invisibility; it was like meeting the gaze of a blind man. They gave me a small frisson. "It's very expensive," I said. " "My perfume. " "No. A casual acquaintance. " "Perfume's okay.
Her interpretation was that the Hunger was grief-born, grief-sustained. Neal and I had been deeply, passionately in love, had enjoyed fabulous sex together throughout our marriage; his sudden death not only left an enormous gap in my life, but in my sex life as well, and so psychologically I had created the Hunger in an effort to fill the emptiness for brief periods. All the men were substitutes, surrogates: Through them I was trying to resurrect both Neal and the powerful physical intimacy we'd shared.
John Faith. " "John Faith. " "It's not. " "Several colonies, yes. Rancherias, we call them. Mainly Pomos— big surprise, right? Some Lake Miwok and Lileek Wappo. At one time, a hundred years ago, there were fifteen thousand Native Americans in Pomo County. Now ... " I smiled. " "Southeastern Pomo—Elem. Not quite pureblood. One of my ancestors got seduced by a white man, but they still let me sit on the tribal council. " He didn't react to the name, as some whites do. Or make any attempt to come forward and shake hands; his were tucked into the pockets of his windbreaker.