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Kindle Promotion!Quick, grab this Kindle Monthly Deal on Less Than a Treason for under five bucks! “The twenty-first series installment, this sequel to Bad Blood (2013) maintains Stabenow’s reputation for concise prose, pithy dialogue, full bodied characters, and intriguing plotting. Crime fiction doesn’t get much better than this.”–Booklist It starts with a story...A little off the beaten path, just north of Homer, Alaska, a space to create is coming to life. “It starts with a story,” Dana Stabenow says with a laugh. The author of 34 novels, she says it all started for her at a retreat for women writers. "I was never going to fail as a author after Hedgebrook." Now she wants to pass that gift on to other beginning writers here in Alaska. Death of an EyeAn excerpt exclusively for members ofthe Known Readers Club
“By way of her very own personal guard, Apollodorus. An interesting man, that. Another partner in another flourishing concern. Yet another Alexandrian success story, although he is not native to the city.” He paused invitingly. She said nothing. “There is nothing known about him or his companions before they arrived in Alexandria, what, nearly twenty years ago? And so soon in the king’s confidence, so much so that he was named his favorite daughter’s personal guard.” A frisson of unease ran up her spine. This man was far too intelligent and far too close to Caesar. Any interest he showed in anyone, including herself and anyone close to her, would best be deflected, however that might be accomplished. “The queen sent for me as she sometimes does—” “He is known as Apollodorus the Sicilian, but all the Sicilians I know are small and dark, whereas he is tall and fair,” he said meditatively. “I would imagine those green eyes have slain more than their fair share of hearts over the years.” Tetisheri felt the heat climb up the back of her neck beneath his interested gaze and felt her temper rise with it. “The queen sent for me,” she said again with an outward calm that took a fierce effort to maintain, “as she sometimes does when she has a free moment, and we revisited old times over a light lunch.” She shrugged. “There really is nothing more sinister in our meeting than that. Now if you will excuse me —” Instead, he took a turn around the fountain, hands clasped behind his back. He came to a stop in front of her again. “Would it have had something to do with you being haled before King Ptolemy last night?” A brief silence. “You, sir,” she said, “are annoyingly well informed.” “It is my invariable habit,” he said, and looked as surprised as she felt when she laughed. It alleviated at least some of the tension that had been building in the room. “Having revealed so much, perhaps I should reveal all,” he said, and sat down on the broad seat in front of the fountain without invitation. He patted the marble next to him, one eyebrow raised, but she remained where she was. He sighed. “Very well, then. We know that the queen ordered a new issue of drachme from Cyprus. We know also that that shipment was stolen right out of the ship it was carried in the morning after it arrived in the Great Harbor.” He looked at her, inviting a response. She gave none. He tsked impatiently. “We also know that the queen has set inquiries in motion to find the thieves and recover the coins, and that one of her agents was murdered here in Alexandria not two mornings ago.” He rose to his feet and strolled forward. “And practically before the corpse was cold, the queen sent for you. I believe she has asked you to take up the dead agent’s task. Am I correct?” Saying nothing seemed the safest avenue. He put his finger under her chin and raised it so he could look straight into her eyes. “There is no threat here, lady, to either you, your mistress, or her coin. Caesar has a vested interest in a stable Egyptian economy, which will be much better suited to delivering the grain to Rome on time. I offer you assistence only.” “You will remove your hand from my person, sir,” she said through clenched teeth. “At once.” There was something in her face that wiped the smile from his. He stepped back, palms out. “My apologies, lady. I meant no offense.” “You gave it nonetheless,” she said. “Good-bye, sir.” “Good day,” he said, “but not, I think, good-bye.” |