By Tom Bradby
Shanghai, 1926: a sultry urban awful with opium, warlords, and corruption on the optimum degrees. Into this steamy morass walks Richard box, an idealistic Brit haunted via his previous and lately appointed to the foreign police. He’s now not there lengthy sooner than referred to as to the flat of a Russian prostitute, former daughter of privilege stumbled on sadistically murdered, handcuffed to her mattress. while he discovers between her possessions a cryptic transport log, he senses that this homicide is greater than a random crime of perverse ardour. What unfolds is a searing tale that propels box right into a war of words with the city’s such a lot ruthless and robust gangster, and a deadly allure to a different salacious Russian whose sordid connections look destined to make her the following sufferer. Scintillating and sophisticated, The grasp of Rain is a fabulous debut.
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Grabbed the retail EPUB and corrected the TOC typo that they had. greater metadata and canopy from Calibre, leisure is retail.
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When Hanukkah came to himself he was seated, slumped, on the back of his own horse, with a burning sensation in his midsection and his arms around the waist of the man who had saved his life and who was now engaged in an argument, in an unknown language, with the African on his spotted Parthian. The sun had dipped behind the slope of the mountain along whose eastern skirt ran the road that led, hugging the southeast littoral of the Khazar Sea, from Azerbaijan to Atil. The air was crisp, the light wistful and the smell of the Frankish physician abominable, and Hanukkah knew that he was going to live.
Everything ends in death,” he said in the holy tongue. ” His expression was kind and his voice soft, teacherly Filaq nodded. “Therefore revenge is superfluous. Unnecessary effort. One day Buljan will be bones in the dust. And so will you and I and that behemoth holding your leash. ” “I want him to suffer,” Filaq said. ” Zelikman blinked and then put his hand on Filaq's shoulder in a manner that showed both tenderness and scorn. “You and God have a great deal in common,” he said. ” Filaq seemed to consider the question very seriously “You had better bind my ankles,” he said.
152 A commotion was therefore unavoidable. 163 He turned to the javshigar who stood by his side, a captain of archers in a scale-mail coat. ” he said admiringly. 191 CHAPTER ONE ON DISCORD ARISING FROM THE EXCESSIVE LOVE OF A HAT For numberless years a myna had astounded travelers to the caravansary with its ability to spew indecencies in ten languages, and before the fight broke out everyone assumed the old blue-tongued devil on its perch by the fireplace was the one who maligned the giant African with such foulness and verve.
The Master of Rain by Tom Bradby