Posts Tagged ‘The Fury of Rachel Monette’

Beginnings (We Start a New Year)

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January 6th, 2019 Posted 8:37 am

On Sundays we do beginnings – the openings of all the Peter Abrahams novels and short stories, including those written under the Spencer Quinn pen name. Today we go all the way back to book one – THE FURY OF RACHEL MONETTE (1980). The first book is a big adventure. Can you really actually write a novel that makes sense? Maybe even enjoyable for the reader? When we got to the last paragraph – which had already been in our mind for weeks – we got a feeling that’s hard to describe.

[“The Fury of Rachel Monette may be one of the best books out this year…visual, frightening, fast-paced and mesmerizing. Its author is a natural-born artist, a brilliant young writer who has a truly remarkable talent for writing psychological thrillers of enormous power, depth and intensity.”
– The Denver Post]

It was one of those winds that have a name. The chergui they called it, a hot summer wind that blew from the east. At dawn it was already gathering strength, picking the crests off the dunes and driving the sand through the air like sparks from a grindstone.

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Beginnings (More)

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December 9th, 2018 Posted 8:25 am

On Sundays we do beginnings – the openings of all the Peter Abrahams novels and short stories, including those written under the Spencer Quinn pen name. Today we go all the way back to book one – THE FURY OF RACHEL MONETTE (1980). The first book is a big adventure. Can you really actually write a novel that makes sense? Maybe even enjoyable for the reader? When we got to the last paragraph – which had already been in our mind for weeks – we got a feeling that’s hard to describe.

[“The Fury of Rachel Monette may be one of the best books out this year…visual, frightening, fast-paced and mesmerizing. Its author is a natural-born artist, a brilliant young writer who has a truly remarkable talent for writing psychological thrillers of enormous power, depth and intensity.”
– The Denver Post]

It was one of those winds that have a name. The chergui they called it, a hot summer wind that blew from the east. At dawn it was already gathering strength, picking the crests off the dunes and driving the sand through the air like sparks from a grindstone.

 

 

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Beginnings (More)

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November 4th, 2018 Posted 6:45 am

On Sundays we’ve been doing beginnings – all the Peter Abrahams books in chronological order, including those written under the Spencer Quinn pen name. Here from 2017 – #37, THE RIGHT SIDE, a Peter Abrahams novel in every way, if you . There is a dog in it (in common with many of his novels, starting with Garth in the very first one, THE FURY OF RACHEL MONETTE) but no dog narration. That didn’t happen until DOG ON IT.

[“A great suspense novel, and so much more. You won’t forget the heroic LeAnne Hogan — and the same goes for her dog! Not to be missed.” – Harlan Coben]

“Just want to make sure I’ve got your name right.” The man – Machado, read the tag hung around his neck – swiveled sideways to check his computer. The chair made a squeaky sound, intolerable to the woman sitting on the other side of the desk. It sparked a headache in the spot where her headaches got sparked these days, a headache that then blossomed like an explosion in slow motion, so slow you might have thought it would peter out, or be easily stopped. She knew better.

Machado – Dr. Ernest Machado, Psychiatric Services, according to the name tag – squinted at the screen. “Still getting used to these darn progressives,” he said, tapping his glasses.

“Poor you,” she said.

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Beginnings (Expanded)

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January 7th, 2018 Posted 9:01 am

On Sundays, as part of Chetspeak, we’ve been doing beginnings – so far the beginnings of all things Chet and Bernie. Now we’re going to expand and do beginnings of all the published writing of Peter Abrahams (aka Spencer Quinn) in chronological order. So here (original pub date 1980) is the beginning of THE FURY OF RACHEL MONETTE:

It was one of those winds that have a name. The chergui they called it, a hot summer wind that blew from the east. At dawn it was already gathering strength, picking the crests off the dunes and driving the sand through the air like sparks from a grindstone.

 

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