Russian Dolls
By Cristelle Comby
New Adult - Mystery&Detective
Date Published:3/13/2013
Alexandra
Neve is a student at University College London whose world suddenly falls
apart. When her best friend jumps from the university’s rooftop, she can’t stop
herself from asking, ‘Why?’ The police rule her friend’s death a suicide and
for them the case is closed — so whom can she turn to for
help?
Sometimes the person you need the most is the one you least expect to find, and in this case it’s none other than Ashford Egan, a blind middle-aged history professor, who’s more willing than most to listen to what she has to say.
Neve and Egan are as different as they come. She’s restless, careless at times, and fearless when the need arises, while he’s almost the complete opposite: a deep thinker with an analytical mind, a highly rational and collected individual.
As they enter the violent world of the Russian mafia, they must overcome their differences and learn to work together. It’s their only chance if they want to survive.
Sometimes the person you need the most is the one you least expect to find, and in this case it’s none other than Ashford Egan, a blind middle-aged history professor, who’s more willing than most to listen to what she has to say.
Neve and Egan are as different as they come. She’s restless, careless at times, and fearless when the need arises, while he’s almost the complete opposite: a deep thinker with an analytical mind, a highly rational and collected individual.
As they enter the violent world of the Russian mafia, they must overcome their differences and learn to work together. It’s their only chance if they want to survive.
EXCERPT
I don’t find
much more information on Anthony Anderson and eventually stop researching for
lack of interesting leads. I spend Monday morning tailing him, instead. I leave
the flat at the crack of dawn in my mother’s old blue Fiat Punto and drive all
the way up to the Andersons’, my camera on the passenger
seat.
I park a
little farther up the road, turn off the engine and check the camera. Mr
Anderson’s dark Mercedes passes me, at six thirty. I snap two pictures, before
turning on the ignition and following him at a reasonable
distance.
He goes
straight to work and disappears in an underground car park that requires an ID
card.
I open the
car door and move to the boot. I reach down for one of my short winter duffle
jackets and a black cap. I shrug both on and then grab a small parcel, before
closing the boot and walking to the Credit Suisse
building.
I force
myself to walk in as casually as I can, and approach the reception with a look
I hope is confident.
‘Morning,’ I
say to the young man at the desk. ‘Urgent delivery for Anthony
Anderson.’
The young lad
narrows his eyes on the parcel and then looks me up and down. I square my jaw.
Time to see whether my plan’s going to work.
I pinned a
badge on my chest. I made it up on my laptop, with a fake logistic company name
and logo, and my name and picture. The cap on my head bears the same logo. It’s
actually one of my old white caps that I craftily hand-painted last
night.
‘Sure,’ the
man says with an easy smile. ‘Leave it here; I’ll see that it’s delivered with
the morning mail.’
‘Sorry, but
it’s hand delivery only.’ I shrug apologetically.
‘Fine.’ The
man motions to one of the men minding the elevator. ‘He’ll escort
you.’
That’s not
what I had planned. I smile nonetheless and follow the bulky man through the
lobby.
The elevator
doors close after us and I stand immobile in a corner. Porca
vacca, Lexa! Why didn’t you think it through? I’ve been too
hasty again. How could I think that they would just let me wander the hallways
on my own? My cover will be blown if Anderson catches sight of me, and there I
am, being escorted straight to him. Way to go,
Lexa!
My escort
takes me to an office and we stop in front of a secretary.
‘Parcel for
Mr Anderson,’ I tell her, fighting hard to prevent my voice from
quivering.
He has to be
here, just behind the large wooden doors that bear his name. She’s going to
call him and he’ll come right out and see me and then it’ll be goodnight
Vienna!
Cristelle
Comby
Author Bio:
Cristelle
Comby was born and raised in the French-speaking area of Switzerland, somewhere
between Geneva and Lausanne, where she still resides.Thanks to her insatiable thirst for
American and British action films and television dramas, her English is
fluent.She
attributes to her origins her ever-peaceful nature and her undying love for
chocolate. She has a passion for art, which also includes an interest in
drawing and acting.Russian Dolls is her first new-adult novel, and she’s hard at
work on the next titles in the series.
Book Promo: Russian Dolls personally i think its a great post. Excellent article. Thanks for your sharing.
ReplyDelete