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The Black MeridianAct I The desert below Las Vegas had a colour that Jack Mercer had never seen in nature, not really. It was the colour of dried blood and ground copper, a rusty orange that the sun bleached to white during the day and turned to black at night. Beneath that colour, at a depth of twelve hundred feet, was something the government called the Meridian Complex and Jack called a tomb. He had known it...0 Commentaires 0 Parts 7 Vue 0 Aperçu
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The Midnight SignalI. The jazz was still playing when Claire McCarthy walked into the underground bar on 52nd Street, though the band had long since switched from Charleston to a slow blues that hung in the smoky air like a question nobody wanted to answer. She was twenty-six, Columbia University journalism school graduate, and three weeks earlier she had been the newest investigative reporter at the New York...0 Commentaires 0 Parts 7 Vue 0 Aperçu
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The Coyote's TaleAct One: The Tall One Who Talks to Trees My name, if humans had any right to name things that do not use names, would be something like Grayear, because my fur went gray around the edges sooner than most of my kind and because the winters I had survived had left their marks on me in the form of a notch in my left ear and a stiffness in my hind legs that I pretend not to notice. I am a coyote....0 Commentaires 0 Parts 6 Vue 0 Aperçu
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The Hollow ForestAct One: The Case That Was Not a Case Jack Morrison had been a private detective for twenty-three years before he retired, and in twenty-three years you see a lot of things that people claim are supernatural and are never anything but human greed wearing a mask. You see husbands who claim their wives are haunted to cover embezzlement. You see business partners who claim their warehouses are...0 Commentaires 0 Parts 3 Vue 0 Aperçu
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THE GILDED CANVASParis, 1924 — New York, 1926 Isabelle Moreau did not paint to please anyone. She painted because the colors would not stop singing to her, and if she did not answer them, they would tear her apart from the inside. Her studio in Greenwich Village was a converted attic that smelled of turpentine and damp plaster. The walls were covered from floor to ceiling with canvases—abstract compositions of...0 Commentaires 0 Parts 12 Vue 0 Aperçu
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The Patient from BelowChapter I: The Braking The letter arrived on a Friday, which in Vienna is the day when everyone pretends the weekend is going to save them from things they should have dealt with on Monday. It was typed on government stationery, in a font that was designed to look friendly but achieved only the effect of a smile that does not reach the eyes. The letter informed me that the Weiss Institute for...0 Commentaires 0 Parts 8 Vue 0 Aperçu
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The Third Bride of BlackwoodThe fog rolled in off the Hooghly River like a living thing, swallowing the road to Blackwood Manor stone by stone. Clara Ashworth pressed her face against the carriage window and watched the Bengali countryside dissolve into gray. She was twenty-two years old, and she had never felt more like a corpse being transported to its final resting place. Uncle Harrington had arranged the marriage with...0 Commentaires 0 Parts 4 Vue 0 Aperçu
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The Trail of Seven TributesAct One: The Road West The Oregon Trail was not a road in any proper sense. It was a scar, a long and winding wound across the continent, made by the wheels of wagons and the hooves of oxen and the feet of men and women and children who believed, with the fervor of people who have nothing left to lose and everything to gain, that somewhere beyond the horizon was a place where a man could start...0 Commentaires 0 Parts 10 Vue 0 Aperçu
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THE SILVER VEILBampton, Yorkshire, 1888 The mist clung to the moors like a shroud, and in the narrow streets of Bampton, where the cobbles gleamed wet under gaslight and the wind carried the salt-tang of the North Sea, a woman arrived who would change everything. Her name was Lin Meiling, though she told people to call her Mary Lin. She came with two trunks and a small iron box of tools, renting the ground...0 Commentaires 0 Parts 12 Vue 0 Aperçu
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