By Sean Chercover
A upset newspaper reporter grew to become deepest detective, Ray Dudgeon isn't really attempting to retailer the realm. He simply desires to do a good activity, and do it good. but if doing a good activity threatens society's strongest and corrupt, Ray's odds for survival make for a sucker's guess. . . . whereas engaged on a film in Chicago, Hollywood destinations supervisor Bob Loniski observed whatever he should not have. Now he is a prosecution witness opposed to a suspected member of the Chicago Outfit. Petrified, he involves Ray for cover. Ray's mob contacts insist that they have got little interest in Loniski, so he is taking the bodyguard gig. Then humans begin loss of life and every thing is going to hell. Ray's research results in a stash of blackmail documents related to the intercourse alternate, Washington political corruption, and a dangerous energy fight between Chicago's prepared crime bosses—setting the FBI, the Chicago police, and the mob on his tail. He now holds proof opposed to top-ranking police officers and politicians . . . yet with the road among stable and undesirable blurring, he does not be aware of who he can belief. If he does definitely the right factor, Ray is bound to die. but when he does not, how can he reside with himself? From the again alleys of Chicago to the man-sions of Beverly Hills to the corridors of energy in Washington, D.C., Sean Chercover's huge urban, undesirable Blood propels readers relentlessly ahead on a bullet-fast, adrenaline-pumping journey they won't quickly put out of your mind.
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Additional resources for Big City, Bad Blood: A Novel
It would stop a small bear. While Loniski took the stun gun into the bedroom, I looked around the kitchen for any sign of food and found none. Loniski wanted to order out for pizza. I explained that his food delivery days were over until this Frank DiMarco business was ﬁnished. I told him to make a list of groceries and I would get them. He reluctantly made the list but he didn’t like the idea of me leaving. It was nice to feel wanted. I drove to the nearest grocery store and bought everything on the list.
See what I mean? A true gentleman. Most guys ’round here just say, ‘You shriveled old cunt, you make me puke . . ’ ” Her eyes welled up. She dragged deep on the cigarette and hacked out a blue cloud. “But not you. You’d love to, but you’re working. ” I sat down next to her on the couch, ﬁshed two twenties from my pocket and slipped them into her hand. “Listen, Candy,” I said, “this is for you. You didn’t earn it, so you don’t have to give it to Booker. It’s a gift, for you only. ” Candy nodded, staring at the money in her palm.
A pretty Polynesian waitress in a pretty tight Polynesian ﬂoral-print dress deposited our new drinks on the table and picked up our empty glasses and changed the dirty ashtray for a fresh one. Terry sipped his new drink. ” I hadn’t said the words “I love you” since that day on my grandfather’s ﬁshing boat, a million years ago. I drank some rum and thought about Jill and got that light-headed feeling that always came when I thought of her. ” “Okay. ” Terry grinned. ” “Jesus, Terry. ” “Well you might want to ﬁnd out.
Big City, Bad Blood: A Novel by Sean Chercover