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BETRAY THE LIE: A Sydney Rye Mystery (Sydney Rye Mysteries)
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BETRAY THE LIE: A Sydney Rye Mystery (Sydney Rye Mysteries)
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BETRAY THE LIE: A Sydney Rye Mystery (Sydney Rye Mysteries)

Commonwealth Finds
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    Standort: Boston, Massachusetts, USA
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    Artikelmerkmale

    Artikelzustand
    Sehr gut: Buch, das nicht neu aussieht und gelesen wurde, sich aber in einem hervorragenden Zustand ...
    ISBN
    1723989789
    ISBN10
    1723989789
    ISBN13
    9781723989780
    EAN
    9781723989780
    MPN
    does not apply
    Brand
    Independently Published
    GTIN
    09781723989780

    Über dieses Produkt

    Product Identifiers

    Publisher
    Independently Published
    ISBN-10
    1723989789
    ISBN-13
    9781723989780
    eBay Product ID (ePID)
    20038486347

    Product Key Features

    Book Title
    Betray the Lie : a Sydney Rye Mystery
    Number of Pages
    240 Pages
    Language
    English
    Topic
    Mystery & Detective / Hard-Boiled
    Publication Year
    2019
    Genre
    Fiction
    Author
    Emily Kimelman
    Book Series
    Sydney Rye Mysteries Ser.
    Format
    Trade Paperback

    Dimensions

    Item Height
    0.6 in
    Item Weight
    14.9 Oz
    Item Length
    9 in
    Item Width
    6 in

    Additional Product Features

    Intended Audience
    Trade
    Series Volume Number
    Vol. 11
    Synopsis
    "Carrying a girl Across the river; The hazy moon." Robert glances up from the book of Haiku verse. "That's like us." "Is it?" I ask with a smile. Blue shifts on the couch next to me, pressing more weight against my side. Nila and Frank lay together, their limbs intertwined, on the marble floor. Robert is half in shadow, his green glass shaded reading lamp throwing a pale yellow circle across his lap and chest. A small, leather-bound book lays open in one of his long-fingered, elegant hands. The last wisps of the sunset, just the palest, most powdery blues and darkest hues of purple, light up the sky and filter through the wall of glass, casting shadows around the living room. Robert's phone, lying on the table next to him, vibrates, sending a low hum through the quiet, peaceful room. He glances at the screen and then answers it. "Yes, Brock." Brock is his head of home security and handles the safety and impenetrability of this mansion on Star Island-a refuge for the extremely wealthy in Biscayne Bay, just east of downtown Miami. "I see." Robert's gaze meets mine, his blue-green eyes narrowing. The fine lines around them deepen. In his fifties, with dark hair silvering at the temples, Robert is an imposing presence. It's not just that he's over six feet tall and well-muscled. Or that he moves with the elegance and speed of a killer, either. There is an aura of power that surrounds Robert Maxim-wafts from him-and demands to be acknowledged. He closes the book of poems and leaves it on the side table. Blue, Nila, and Frank lift their heads, collars jangling. The puppies look to their father for direction. Eight months old, with gigantic paws, soft features, and keen instincts, they are almost as tall as Blue. A mutt I adopted back when I lived in New York-a lifetime ago-Blue is the height of a Great Dane with the long, elegant snout of a collie, the thick coat of a wolf, and the markings of a Siberian husky, with one blue eye and one brown. Blue is trained to protect and his offspring are learning...Nila better than Frank. Frank is a dumb dog-which I love about him. The guy is almost too sweet for the job. Whenever Merl, a dog expert, tries to get him to attack, Frank turns it into a game. Nila, on the other hand, is ruthless, smart, and quick. Robert hangs up the phone, and Blue leaps off the couch. The puppies scramble to their feet, facing the door. Robert stands, slipping the phone into his pocket, and crosses to me. He reaches out a hand-the shirt-sleeve rolled up, exposing a strong forearm dusted in dark hair. "Time to go," he says. I twine my fingers with his, and Robert pulls me from the couch, holding me tight as we begin to move. A heavy fist pounds on the front door, echoing through the large house. My soft-soled sneakers are almost silent on the marble as we begin to jog. The dogs' nails click along with us. "Homeland Security. Open up!" A man yells, his voice muffled by the large house. Robert presses a button, and a bookshelf slides away, revealing a doorway. The loud crash of a battering ram striking the front door echoes as Maxim punches a code into the keypad next to the elevator. My heartbeat remains even. I am not afraid . P.S. The dog does not die. **Beware: If you can't handle a few f-bombs, you can't handle this series.**, "Carrying a girl Across the river; The hazy moon." Robert glances up from the book of Haiku verse. "That's like us." "Is it?" I ask with a smile. Blue shifts on the couch next to me, pressing more weight against my side. Nila and Frank lay together, their limbs intertwined, on the marble floor. Robert is half in shadow, his green glass shaded reading lamp throwing a pale yellow circle across his lap and chest. A small, leather-bound book lays open in one of his long-fingered, elegant hands. The last wisps of the sunset, just the palest, most powdery blues and darkest hues of purple, light up the sky and filter through the wall of glass, casting shadows around the living room. Robert's phone, lying on the table next to him, vibrates, sending a low hum through the quiet, peaceful room. He glances at the screen and then answers it. "Yes, Brock." Brock is his head of home security and handles the safety and impenetrability of this mansion on Star Island--a refuge for the extremely wealthy in Biscayne Bay, just east of downtown Miami. "I see." Robert's gaze meets mine, his blue-green eyes narrowing. The fine lines around them deepen. In his fifties, with dark hair silvering at the temples, Robert is an imposing presence. It's not just that he's over six feet tall and well-muscled. Or that he moves with the elegance and speed of a killer, either. There is an aura of power that surrounds Robert Maxim--wafts from him--and demands to be acknowledged. He closes the book of poems and leaves it on the side table. Blue, Nila, and Frank lift their heads, collars jangling. The puppies look to their father for direction. Eight months old, with gigantic paws, soft features, and keen instincts, they are almost as tall as Blue. A mutt I adopted back when I lived in New York--a lifetime ago--Blue is the height of a Great Dane with the long, elegant snout of a collie, the thick coat of a wolf, and the markings of a Siberian husky, with one blue eye and one brown. Blue is trained to protect and his offspring are learning...Nila better than Frank. Frank is a dumb dog--which I love about him. The guy is almost too sweet for the job. Whenever Merl, a dog expert, tries to get him to attack, Frank turns it into a game. Nila, on the other hand, is ruthless, smart, and quick. Robert hangs up the phone, and Blue leaps off the couch. The puppies scramble to their feet, facing the door. Robert stands, slipping the phone into his pocket, and crosses to me. He reaches out a hand--the shirt-sleeve rolled up, exposing a strong forearm dusted in dark hair. "Time to go," he says. I twine my fingers with his, and Robert pulls me from the couch, holding me tight as we begin to move. A heavy fist pounds on the front door, echoing through the large house. My soft-soled sneakers are almost silent on the marble as we begin to jog. The dogs' nails click along with us. "Homeland Security. Open up!" A man yells, his voice muffled by the large house. Robert presses a button, and a bookshelf slides away, revealing a doorway. The loud crash of a battering ram striking the front door echoes as Maxim punches a code into the keypad next to the elevator. My heartbeat remains even. I am not afraid . P.S. The dog does not die. **Beware: If you can't handle a few f-bombs, you can't handle this series.**, Justice with a vengeance How do you find peace in a world rife with injustice? A world that is so wrong? Sydney Rye is in Miami, surrounded by friends and co-conspirators who share her values and goals. People who believe in her. For the first time since her brother's murder, Sydney Rye is finding a way to live in peace...but also isn't helping anyone in need. Unfortunately, this peace can't last--Sydney is in the eye of a storm. With the effects of Datura under control, she no longer hears thunder, sees lightning, or feels the cold sting of hard rain. But danger rages all around her, circling closer every moment. Declan Doyle spent the last five years hunting Sydney Rye. He's faced humiliation and grave injury at her hands, but nothing can stop him now. He has a warrant, she's on US territory, and this time he's locking her up for good. They can take his badge and career, but he'll get Sydney Rye this time. Dan Burke is obsessive, brilliant, and a founding member of Joyful Justice. Safely ensconced on the isolated island headquarters of his organization, Dan does what he wants, when he wants. He's the man in charge. But when the island stronghold falls under attack, and his closest allies betray him, he's forced to defend the network they've built at any cost. Lenox Gold is dangerous, gorgeous, and devoted to justice. As a gigolo and pimp, he runs his business at the highest standards of ethics--everyone is a consenting adult getting what they need out of the transaction. With the help of Joyful Justice, Lenox is determined to bring these ideals to the entirety of his industry. But when the woman who showed Lenox how to transform his life turning tricks on the beach into a profitable international business begins breaking the rules, Lenox must choose between betrayal of a trusted friend and the ideals he spent his life defending. What none of them see coming is a brewing discontent. Masses once thought to be harmless--splinters of humanity the internet fostered into groups of organized zealots--are forming their own networks...preparing to take revenge. The status quo is cracking. The war is brewing. Continue the adventure now!

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