Thirst blood of my blood RP Channing

240+ Pages WITH BEAUTIFUL PHOTOGRAPHS

Blurb:

~ Kira Sutherland ~

After a near fatal accident (and getting cheated on by her 'boyfriend'), and beating up the lead cheerleader (with whom the boyfriend cheated...), and being labeled as having 'issues' in her school because she, uhm, sees ghosts, Kira is left with two choices:

1. Continue her 'therapy' (where she's told the ghost is a hallucination and also gets her legs ogled too often...)

Or

2. Go to Starkfield Academy, a boarding school for "Crazies and Convicts" (as the social media sites call them.)

She chooses the latter...

~ Cory Rand ~

Cory Rand has not had an easy life. His mother died in a car accident when he was twelve, and so did his mother's best friend...sort of. You see, Janice made a promise to take care of Cory just before she died, and so she lingers. Undead. A ghost that watches out for him.

Brought up in an abusive home, Cory quickly falls into a life of disreputable behavior. After his third offense (which was prompted by a girl, as usual - he has a weakness) he's left with two choices:

1. Be tried as an adult and share a cell with a guy named Bubba (he thinks...)

Or

2. Go to Starkfield Academy, which Cory is pretty sure is run by vampires. But, hey, at least he'll get an education.

He chooses the latter...

It's at Starkfield that Kira meets Cory Rand, a boy with an insatiable Rage who sees ghosts, too. As well as other things, other things from his past, things that confuse him, things like fire and witches and demons.

Things he's always ignored.

Until now.



Genres:

Young Adult Romance

Paranormal Romance

High School

Vampires, Demons, Witches

Dark Fantasy

Horror

Excerpt: 



PROLOGUE

-1-

The Puppy Eyes

My life was perfect.

I had the perfect shoes and the perfect friends and I lived in the perfect house. My nails were perfect and my hair was perfect (except on Sundays, it was always windy on Sundays) and I had the perfect clothes. My lips were a perfect red and my hair perfectly straight. My eyeshadow was perfect, my hips were...okay, and my waist...well...also okay. Nothing was wrong in my life.

But then there was Jack.

Jack was a problem.

He needed to go. I mean, when you’re dead, you’re dead! I had told him this endlessly. Somehow, Jack didn’t get it. I mean, I felt sorry for the guy. Sure. Being stuck between this life and the next. But just because I found him, does that mean I needed to keep him?

I think not!

Sadly, when Jack got that look in his eyes, that weary, almost teary (if his tear-ducts worked) look, I melted. I just couldn’t send him away. Not even Jack knew where he would go after he died.

Would he, like, die? As in — dead, nada, kaput, finito, gone, no more? Bye bye, sayonara, ciao, hasta la vista baby and all that?

I couldn’t have that on my conscience. No way.

I lay on my bed, wondering what to do about him. “Jaaaaaaack,” I hollered.

“Jaaaaaaack!”

Still no answer.

“Jack!”

Jack...materialized.

His eyes rolled down to the ground. He was making those puppy eyes again.

“Jack, I told you not to do that. I told you not to play on my sympathies.”

His puppy eyes became worse.

His skin was gray and, well, dead.

“Oh, brother,” I said. “I have to do something about you. If mom finds out I have another ‘imaginary friend’ — at my age — well, I’d die of embarrassment. But, like, really die. Not like you.” I wondered about this. Would I die? Was Jack a freak accident, or did all people live on like him? Think of the cemeteries...

The idea excited me somewhat.

“What would you have me do, Miss Kira?”

“Knock off the Miss Kira crap. I told you it’s just Kira.”

“Yes, Miss Kira.”

The dead. There’s just no reasoning.

“Fine, Miss Kira it is then.” Rover barked like a lunatic in the garden. No one else might be able to see Jack, but I was sure my dog could.

“I have to do something about this,” I mumbled.

-2-

The Rat

Mike knocked on the door before I had time to leave the house. Mike was the guy I thought (at the time) was perfect.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, baby.”

Baby, urgh — I wasn’t his baby. I dated Mike because he was the quarterback, because girls are supposed to like the quarterback, because it’s just so darn perfect to be seen with the quarterback, like we’re brainwashed into thinking these things from the first romantic doll set mom buys us.

This was my previous life.

“Mike.”

“Uh-huh. Gonna let me in?”

So you can try rub me up and then complain when I don’t let you? This, dear reader, was the big problem with Mike. The second we first kissed, his hand went way too far south for me to be comfortable — and I pulled back.

Mike suddenly wasn’t so perfect.

“Uhm, I was just on my way out,” I said.

“Kira? C’mon, open the door.” He sounded upset. “Is there someone in there with you?”

Boys. As if.

I didn’t know much about love (nothing, actually) but I knew this wasn’t it.

“Uhm, now’s not the time, Mike.”

“C’mon, Kira, what’s going on?” He banged harder.

When in doubt...lie. I opened the door a crack. “There’s a dead rat in the house, Mike. Been here for days. I gotta go get some detergent and stuff to handle the stench.”

Mike stepped back. He peered through the crack of the door.

“It’s really bad,” I said.

“I’ll drive you.”

“I’m afraid the smell” — I stuck my armpit to my nose — “has found its way all over me. I’ll drive myself.”

“O — okay. Fine.” And then he grinned like he wanted something. “Later? My place?”

Urgh. “Uhm, sure...er...later. Not sure when though.”

“Six.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. According to girls at school, he was apparently so damn good looking — theoretically. But for me personally, he did nothing. Moved nothing. Twisted nothing. “Look, I gotta go, Mike. I gotta — ”

“Kira.” His eyes grew stern. “You’ve been avoiding me...”

Bingo! Well done contestant number one! And what have you won? A brain!

I tilted my head. “Mike, look, this...rat — I need to deal with it. We’ll talk later, okay? Bye.” I closed the door, not waiting for an answer, and peered out the peep hole. Mike hung around for a second, shoulders wide and eyes glaring straight at me through the door. Could he see me? Did he know I was looking at him?

He kicked something off the ground, and I had the distinct impression he mouthed the word Bitch before leaving. But I wasn’t sure...

-3-

The Mack

“Roll down the window, Jack.” Jack was recently dead, so he still had a smell about him. (Which only I could smell...)

I had purposely skipped breakfast. Maybe Jack would help me lose weight. I was (still am) a little wide, although it had never stopped guys flirting with me. I know how to dress.

But I could be skinnier.

Lucy Rogers was skinny. All bones and no boobs.

Charlene Carverton was a babe. Cheerleader. Big chest (which she pushed out generously with a push-up — if only guys knew). Toned thighs. Charlene only dated college boys (back then), which I still think is pretty gross for a girl her age.

“He’s not for you,” Jack said out the blue.

“Hmm?”

“This...Mike — he’s wrong for you, Miss Kira.” For all Jack’s faults (mainly, being dead), he has a good heart. Factually, probably it’s why I kept him around at first.

“You think I don’t know that?”

“Then why don’t you dump him?”

I braked at a stop sign. Looked left and right. “Because I’d look like an idiot. I flirted with him and showed interest, and one kiss later I can’t stand the sight of him.”

“So dump him.”

“It’s not that simple. Kids at school — they can be vicious. I have to let it fade slowly. If I drop the bomb on him, I’ll never hear the end of it through senior year.”

“And you care?”

Yes, I did. Forget Guantanamo, schools are rough. “You don’t understand, Jack. Maybe school was different in your day. But in mine, well, we walk through metal detectors.”

“Schools weren’t too different in my day.” I noted the sadness in his voice.

“You okay?”

“I’m dead.”

Right. “You miss...your life?”

Jack shrugged. “I like being with you, Miss Kira. And I don’t remember much of my life. I think I’m in limbo.”

“Limbo?”

“Yes, like I have some unfinished business. If only I could remember...what...it is...” He scratched his head.

“Any ideas?”

“Well, it can’t be love. If it were love, I’d be a vampire. That’s who teenage girls fall in love with these days.”

“A vampire? That’s just what I need — two undead beings stalking me.”

“I feel I have something to do around you, Miss Kira. I don’t know what, but something. Something important.”

I looked over at him. “Me?”

I was still looking at him when I missed the stop sign.

The Mack truck drove straight into us.

Buy Links

Amazon US http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B018M5GTLI Amazon UK http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B018M5GTLI

Kindle Unlimited



$20 Amazon Gift Voucher Giveaway

At the back of the book there is a giveaway link. Once the book hits fifty reviews on Amazon, one of those reviewers will win a $20 (US Dollars) Amazon Gift Voucher!



Author Bio

R P Channing started writing three years ago, but never published anything even after churning out over a million words of fiction. Thirst: Blood of my Blood is the first book he dared to publish. When asked why, he said, “Because it’s the first thing I wrote that my wife actually enjoyed reading.” When not hammering away (most literally) at his keyboard, he can be found buried in a book, reading anything from romance to horror to young adult to non-fiction to comedy.



Author Links

Website http://blog.rpchanning.com

Twitter

@rpchanning

Amazon http://amazon.com/author/rpchanning

A night in with Marilyn Monroe by Lucy Holliday

A night in with Marilyn Monroe by Lucy Holliday
My rating: 4 of 5 stars



‘I laughed my slippers off!’ Alexandra Brown
‘Fresh, witty and thoroughly enjoyable.’ The Sun

After dating the hottest man on the planet, Dillon O’Hara, Libby Lomax has come back down to earth with a bump. Now she’s throwing herself into a new relationship and is determined to be a better friend to best pal, Ollie, as he launches his new restaurant.

Despite good intentions, Libby is hugely distracted when a newly reformed Dillon arrives back on the scene, more irresistible than ever. And when another unwelcome guest turns up on her battered sofa in the form of Marilyn Monroe, Libby would willingly bite her own arm off for a return to normality.



OK, so here's the thing, you have to read this novel by taking a leap of faith; of course it's absolutely barmey that a sofa could conjure up ghosts of bygone stars but if you allow yourself to imagine that it might be possible then you can just lose yourself in this fabulously wacky novel and have some fun.


The second in this series, A Night in with Marilyn Monroe is just as entertaining and funny as its predecessor A Night in with Audrey Hepburn. So glad that Lucy Holliday has continued with the marvelous Bogdan who made me laugh out loud at his lack of understanding and his unique way of expressing himself - hilarious. Dillon and preparations for the wedding of her best friend and the opening of Olly's restaurant keep this flowing nicely and of course poor Libby finds herself in all sorts of scrapes as the story moves along. It wasn't long into the novel when I was laughing out loud at the antics.


I don't like to give 'spoilers' or tell too much of the story as I am sure it detracts from the clever writing of the author so I won't but I do hope that you will read this one and enjoy it as much as I did. Keep an open mind and you'll just get carried along with the fun. You don't need to really have read the first book it's equally good and entertaining as a stand alone although Lucy Holliday does re-cap anyway.


Libby Lomax predicaments in many ways reminds me of the disastrous relationships that Bridget Jones finds herself in as she struggles with the dating game; this novel has all that but more in that it is a chick lit but also a very very funny quirky read with characters that are equally as amusing as the central character. Just loved it and can't wait to read A Night in with Grace Kelly where I do hope that Libby finds her happy ending.


Well deserved 4 stars.

I would like to thank the publisher for sending this in exchange for an honest review.

The Snowflake Valley Advice Fairy by Holly Tierney-Bedord

The Snowflake Valley Advice Fairy by Holly Tierney-Bedord
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

The author of Right Under Your Nose: A Christmas Story brings you another sweet, festive holiday novella.

At just twenty-five years old, Elinor has landed the job of her dreams: She’s going to be Merry the Advice Fairy for the Snowflake Valley Gazette. She’s ecstatic that she’s about to embark on a fun, cushy career while living in the cutest, quaintest town she’s ever known.

She’s barely settled into her desk at work when that famous Snowflake Valley shimmer starts to fizzle. The real Snowflake Valley bears little resemblance to the picture postcard tourist destination she and her family loved when she was a child. Her new co-workers are uninspiring, to say the least, and the problems that people are submitting to the Gazette are much weightier than what she was expecting.

Losing faith in herself, Elinor considers cutting her losses and moving on. However, the attention of hot young reporter Nile might be enough to get her past her chilly start in Snowflake Valley, and back to seeing its charm once again.

This is a novella length book.


This was a free ebook that I downloaded over Christmas and I am so glad that I did.

Elinor is twenty five and has just moved to Snowflake Valley, she used to love visiting as a child so when a job came up in a newspaper office in the Valley to become the advice fairy she thinks this would be the perfect job for her. As soon as she arrives Elinor thinks straight away this is not the right job for her. She even is regretting moving to the Valley. The problems she is having to answer seem impossible and her colleagues seem to hate her and constantly compare her to Trudy.

Although this is only 95 pages I really enjoyed it and it was well paced and a really easy quick read. My only negative about the book is that I wish it was a bit longer as when I was just getting into it, it felt like it was over.

Even though this is not free anymore I think this is worth it, I would recommend this to anyone who wants a short story and a little bit of romance.

NEW YORK NIGHT: THE 7TH JACK NIGHTINGALE SUPERNATURAL THRILLER by Stephen Leather blog tour

NEW YORK NIGHT: THE 7TH JACK NIGHTINGALE SUPERNATURAL THRILLER by Stephen Leather blog tour! I have been lucky enough to be able to share with you a Q and A from the author himself. 

Blurb:
Teenagers are being possessed and turning into sadistic murderers. Priests can’t help, nor can psychiatrists. So who is behind the demonic possessions? Jack Nightingale is called in to investigate, and finds his own soul is on the line. New York Night is the seventh novel in the Jack Nightingale supernatural detective series. Jack Nightingale has his own website at www.jacknightingale.com



Although this is part of the series, it can be read as a stand alone. Here is what people are already saying about the book. 

Praise for Stephen Leather's Jack Nightingale series:

'Another great thriller from Stephen Leather but this time with a devilish twist!' James Herbert

'Written with panache, and a fine ear for dialogue, Leather manages the collision between the real and the occult with exceptional skill' Daily Mail

‘A stunning masterclass in darkness from a ferocious talent who excels in putting the devil in the details’ Daily Record

Here is the Q and A: 

What inspired you to write the Jack Nightingale series?

I always loved the Black Magic books of Dennis Wheatley when I was a kid and I’m a huge fan of the Constantine character in the Hellblazer comics (graphic novels as they prefer to be called these days). And I just love supernatural films, especially haunted houses and things that go bump in the night. With the Nightingale series I wanted to explore the supernatural world but with a hero who is very much grounded in reality. The first three books – Nightfall, Midnight and Nightmare – really explain his backstory, how he became the man he is. The next two – Nightshade and Lastnight – explain why he had to leave the UK and the subsequent books will be set mainly in the United States, hence San Francisco Night and New York Night.

Do you have a specific writing style?

I try not to have a style. Like most journalists-turned-writers I try to tell my stories simply with uncluttered prose. If I find myself over-writing I tend to hit the delete key and start again. I try to write my books as if I was writing for a newspaper, where it’s the information that is being conveyed that’s important, not the style in which it’s written. I do like to write fast-paced books, with lots of dialogue and not too much descriptions. For me, the story is everything.

How did you come up with the title?

As Jack Nightingale is the hero, I decided it would be neat to have the word ‘Night’ in all the titles, though after Nightfall, Midnight, Nightmare, Nightshade and Lastnight I have to confess I was running out of options. I don’t think Nightdress was going to cut it as a title!  The rest of the titles will be the name of a city, plus Night. So I have already published San Francisco Night and New York Night, and later this year I hope to publish Miami Night.

Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp?

The knee-jerk answer is that my books are to entertain and that I’m not trying to teach my readers anything, I just want to tell them a good story. But on reflection I do think most writers want their readers to put down a book having at least learned something. With my Spider Shepherd thrillers I do try to point out the way the world is changing, how it is becoming a more uncertain and dangerous place and how the authorities are trying to deal with that. With the Jack Nightingale books that mission to explain is less pronounced and really I am trying to tell a good story, though there is of course an underlying moral that good always triumphs over evil. The problem with that moral, of course, is that it isn’t true – evil often wins, which is sad.

What books have most influenced your life most?

The book I have read the most in my life is One Day In The Life Of Ivan Denisovich by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn. I love the way it’s such a small story but with such depth. It’s a book about character but through that character you understand an entire political system. I read Harry’s Game by Gerald Seymour several times before I wrote my IRA thriller The Chinaman. Tinker, Taylor, Soldier, Spy by John Le Carre was an inspiring book but it is so good that after I read it I gave up thinking I could be writer for several years!

What is your favourite theme/genre to write about?

 I love writing present-day thrillers that feel as if they have been ripped from that day’s newspaper headlines. I have lots of contacts in the police, the army and the intelligence services and I love using the information they give me in my stories. Often I hear of things long before they reach the papers. In my book Soft Target I wrote about four Islamic suicide bombers going down the Tube system in London. Several months later it actually happened – it wasn’t that I was psychic, it was the people I was speaking to told me it was the thing they feared happening most.

Where did your love of writing come from?

I’ve always loved to write, to create a story from nothing. I like to tell stories to, and I often recite the whole plot of a forthcoming novel to my friends. Often by telling a story it becomes easier to put down on paper. But before I was driven to write, I read. I read so much as a kid and was at my local library several times a week. I loved to read and it was that I think that lead to me wanting to create my own stories.

What was the hardest part of writing this book?  

Actually New York Night was an easy book to write, partly because Nightingale is such a great character to work with and partly because I had a pretty good idea of what was going to happen. It took about two months, from start to finish, and at no point did I hit any real problems. The ending didn’t come to me until the last week or so and I think that was probably the hardest part, coming up with a satisfying ending.

What did you enjoy most about writing this book?

I just love the Jack Nightingale character. When Hodder and Stoughton decided they didn’t want to continue to publish the series, there was no question that the books would stop. Jack just wouldn’t allow it. I love his sarcasm, his slight air of pessimism, and the fact that he just takes whatever life throws at him. He’s smart and thinks on his feet, yet because the supernatural world is so alien to him it’s constantly catching him off-balance. Having the books set in the United States is fun, because he’s always a fish out of water. It gives me the chance to explore different cities, too, which I enjoy enormously. This one was good fun because I know New York well, it’s one of my favourite cities. The next one will be set in Miami which is also a fun city.

Colour Yourself Calm: A Mindfulness Colouring Book by Tiddy Rowan

Colour Yourself Calm: A Mindfulness Colouring Book by Tiddy Rowan
My rating: 3 of 5 stars


Relax, meditate and banish stress

Release unconscious knowledge and calm thought through painting and colouring

Features complete images to copy, or just create your own colourful mandalas

Mandalas were created as sacred objects upon which to meditate. Their symmetry is designed for the painter to reflect and empty the mind by becoming absorbed in colouring this object of beauty, the reader will embark on a practical exercise in mindfulness.

In Colour Yourself Calm, Tiddy Rowan (author of the Little Book of Mindfulness) has gathered inspirational quotes to accompany these original images and enhance the experience offering an easy way to relax the mind, body and spirit, while expanding the imagination and creating a sense of wellbeing.



I was given this as a Christmas present, I was so excited as this is a different colouring book and I am loving them at the moment.

This is a very different type of colouring book, for starters its hardback, which for a colouring book is quite unique.

Each page is a double page - one which has the image coloured in on. (I'm guessing this is to give you ideas?) Then on the opposite page it is black and white for you to colour. Personally I was disappointed in this. I would have preferred more pages to colour and I don't feel I need one coloured on the opposite to help me.

This is an O.K colouring book, however I would have not of bought it for me as it is not my preference. If you are a little un-confident with creativity then this maybe a good buy for you. If you are a regular colourer then I think you would want to find a different book.

Zippo the Super Hippo by Kes Gray

Zippo the Super Hippo by Kes Gray
My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Zippo doesn't want to be an ordinary hippo. He wants to be super! Being good at swimming and splashing in mud aren't really superpowers, though. Perhaps he can fly like his friend Roxi. But who's ever heard of a flying hippopotamus? Especially one with such a big bottom . . .

From award-winning author Kes Gray and exciting new illustrating talent Nikki Dyson. This fantastically funny superhero will be flying into children's imaginations everywhere!



When this arrived for me to share with my children I couldn't wait, I knew this would appeal to them and I wasn't wrong.

This is a really cute story about a hippo, who really wishes he had a super power. His friend Roxi encourages Zippo the hippo to realise that he is special and he does have a super power, he just needs to find it.

The pair of friends go through different talents Zippo feels he has, all of which Roxi doesn't believe is a super power. Roxi suggests a new talent that Zippo may have that hasn't even thought about. Zippo practises his new talent but feels that perhaps it isn't right for him. Roxi gets Zippo to see what his talent really is.

The children I read this story to really enjoyed it, they liked to see what Zippo was going to try next. The illustrations are wonderful and the book is so colourful which helps to keep the children interested in it. All children were able to tell me if they liked or disliked the story, all of which say they liked it. They also said it is a story they would like to read again.

I would like to thank the publisher for sending this in exchange for an honest review.

The American Nadia Dalbuono blog tour with extract

Today it is my stop on The American blog tour. I have been lucky enough to secure an extract for you to read. I hope you enjoy it and don't forget to check out the other stops on the tour. 

Blurb: 

The second Leone Scamarcio thriller.

As autumn sets in, the queues outside the soup kitchens of Rome are lengthening, and the people are taking to the piazzas, increasingly frustrated by the deepening economic crisis.

Detective Leone Scamarcio is called to an apparent suicide on the Ponte Sant'Angelo, a stone’s throw from Vatican City. A man is hanging from the bridge, his expensive suit suggesting yet another businessman fallen on hard times. But Scamarcio is immediately troubled by similarities with the 1982 murder of Roberto Calvi, dubbed ‘God’s Banker’ because of his work for the Vatican Bank.

Scamarcio’s instincts are soon proved correct when a cardinal with links to the bank is killed. And when US Intelligence warn Scamarcio to drop his investigation, he knows that the stakes are far higher than he first realised.

Ignoring their threats, Scamarcio pushes on, but his progress is being monitored by some of the world’s most powerful men, who will stop at nothing to make sure their dirty work stays under cover. In breathtaking developments that link 9/11, America’s dirty wars, Vatican corruption, the Mafia, and Italy’s violence against its own people, Scamarcio has to deal with responsibilities far above his pay grade.








Extract 1 from The American by Nadia Dalbuono



A man with light, greying hair was hanging from the lower railing, a fat noose of rope tied around his neck. He wore an expensive-looking grey suit and a white shirt, the top four buttons wide open. A blue silk tie was pushed off to one side, the front panel snaking across his shoulder. His feet were spinning above the water in grey silk socks. There was no sign of any shoes. The stranger’s eyes had rolled back in his head, as was customary with the victims of hanging, but it was his thick hair standing up in strange tufts that was disquieting, that gave the sense that this was a man who would normally be combed down and salesman prepped, who would never allow himself to be seen in public like this. What an invasion of privacy death is, thought Scamarcio, not for the first time.



Manetti called over to the police photographer, standing a few metres away: ‘You done here?’

The guy nodded. ‘Yeah, he’s all yours.’



Manetti motioned to two of his assistants. The more muscular of the two stepped onto the thin platform above the water and began slowly hoisting the body onto the ledge. It took a considerable effort, despite the CSI’s strength. Once he’d cut the rope free from the ironwork, Manetti and the other assistant leant over the balustrade, and the three men carefully manoeuvred the body up over the railing. When they’d got it clear, they laid the corpse out on the pavement.



Manetti began patting down the arms and legs. He stopped at the trouser pockets, and felt them again on both sides before reaching into a pocket with his gloved right hand and pulling out a fistful of something bulky. When Manetti opened his hand, Scamarcio saw that he was holding cracked and broken chunks of brick — masonry rubble.



‘What do you make of that?’ asked the chief CSI, who had sensed his colleague’s silent approach but had been too absorbed in his work to acknowledge it.



‘Reminds me of something.’



‘In the sixteenth century, this bridge was used to expose the bodies of the executed.’



‘No, that’s not it.’



With his left hand, Manetti pulled a plastic evidence-bag from his pocket and poured in the rubble from his right. He then extracted the debris from the man’s other pocket and repeated the process.



‘Probably another poor sod who couldn’t make it to the end of the month. There seems to be a suicide a day at the moment. You hear about that guy who set fire to himself in front of the tax office?’



Scamarcio ignored the question — he was sick of the constant talk of ‘the crisis’. Just because some parasite bankers had placed a bad bet on Italy, why should they all be castrating themselves to settle their casino tab? The German chancellor and her cronies had the country in a stranglehold, and people were starting to pay with their lives. At a dinner party the other day, someone had said that it was the new nazism for the twenty-first century. He had smiled at the time, but had gone home and quietly wondered about that.



‘You find any ID?’ he asked.



‘Nothing as yet. We’re getting the frogmen out, but there’s quite a current after the storm.’



‘He doesn’t look Italian to me.’



‘Hmm, now you say it ...’ Manetti gently patted the corpse again before lifting the collar of the man’s suit. ‘Saks, 5th Avenue.’















‘Yeah, that’s what I thought.’



‘Enlighten me then — what does it remind you of ?’



Scamarcio took a cigarette from his pocket and lit up, breathing out into the cool air and then sucking it back in. After a few seconds, he said: ‘God’s Banker.’



Manetti inclined his head slowly to one side, thinking it over. ‘God’s Banker,’ he repeated, trying it for size.



They both looked out across the river to their right, where the dome of St Peter’s Basilica rose up, resplendent in the early-morning sunlight.



‘Yeah, now you say it ...’ said the chief CSI eventually. ‘And I thought it would be a home-by-six day.’