Paper Ghosts
A Novel of Suspense
(Sprache: Englisch)
A Texas map marked with three red dots like drops of blood. A serial killer who claims to have dementia. A mysterious young woman who wants answers. What could go wrong?
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Klappentext zu „Paper Ghosts “
A Texas map marked with three red dots like drops of blood. A serial killer who claims to have dementia. A mysterious young woman who wants answers. What could go wrong?FINALIST FOR THE ITW THRILLER AWARD Fast and furious . . . You ll never see what s coming. The Washington Post
Years ago, her sister Rachel vanished. Now she is almost certain the man who took Rachel sits in the passenger seat beside her. He claims to have dementia and no memory of murdering girls across Texas in a string of places where he shot eerie pictures. To find the truth, she proposes a dangerous idea: a ten-day road trip with a possible serial killer to examine cold cases linked to his haunting photographs. Is he a liar or a broken old man? Is he a pathological con artist or is she? You won t see the final, terrifying twist spinning your way until the very last mile.
Praise for Paper Ghosts
Paper Ghosts is a riveting summer read that shows Texas in a powerfully intimate light. The Austin Chronicle
[An] artful and elegiac psychological thriller . . . riveting. Publishers Weekly (starred review)
[Paper Ghosts] elevates the often tawdry genre of the serial killer novel to a work of art. Sunday Express (UK)
Texas has yet again bred a major American noir writer. D Magazine
[Heaberlin has] developed a distinctive literary voice, one that is on full display in Paper Ghosts. Houston Chronicle
Entertainingly unnerving. The Dallas Morning News
Strong characterisation, haunting images, a wonderful sense of place, and some dark comedy make this travelogue-cum-psychological thriller well worth the read. The Guardian
Lese-Probe zu „Paper Ghosts “
Chapter 1Who the hell are you?
I slide my queen one space closer to his king. You know who I am.
He swipes his right arm, the one that still fully cooperates, across the board. A single, swift movement. Pieces fly, bounce off the carpet, rattle into corners fuzzed with dust from a past decade. I don t flinch, something I m practiced at. Neither does the only other occupant of the room, a deaf woman knitting an infinite patch of blue. Or green or gold or pink. It could be any color.
She doesn t have needles. Her hands work the air methodically while her invisible work piles up like an accordion. A wedding veil sits crookedly on the silvery threads struggling out of her scalp. The second hand on a plastic clock above her head jerks.
I ve wanted to rip that clock off the wall on every visit. Time for the people in this house is meaningless. No need to travel beyond the triple-locked front door or wonder who or what made the three long white scratches that run down its wood veneer. No good reason to think about the people who never visit you or the horrible things you ve done. So what if you can t remember that you never liked dark bananas or the canned laughter of I Love Lucy but now you eat one while watching the other?
I wonder what Carl is thinking. Maybe about how he d like to kill me. I m twenty-four, in the age range. White. Slender. People say I look like my sister. The difference is, she was lit from the inside. Dramatic. Gutsy. A performer. People drifted to her. Loved her. Carl drifted to her, and snatched her life.
Maybe he thinks I am my sister come back to haunt him.
I am the understudy, Carl. A shell of her, loaded with dynamite, set on revenge. The nervous one in the wings about to jump onstage. You and I, we will be co-stars.
I am also a perfect stranger every time I come here, or he s lying. Each time, he claims to forget my name. He won t answer when I ask why, in June, he is wearing a Christmas tie leering with Grinch
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faces, or tell me where he bought his leaden, ancient boots, or the prettiest place he remembers they last took him. Boots always remind me of vistas. Of standing firm and steady on a dangerous precipice while beauty unfolds for miles before your eyes.
He s unimpressed by any of my random musings on boots, or the Walt Whitman and John Grisham I read him by the only sunny window in this house, or the series of jokes about talking cows that I tell while we take walks around the neighborhood. Things any loved one would do. This afternoon at IHOP, I watched him drown his pancakes in strawberry syrup and knife them into a precise patchwork of bites. I wanted to ask, Does the syrup remind you of blood?
He s trying to make me think his eyes are glimpses into a dark solar system where he retreats, alone, but I won t be fooled. I wonder what he sees in mine. Anything familiar?
He s a hell of an actor, according to old court testimony.
Right now, with a harmless bit of violence, he s reminding me that he s still strong. Relevant. I already know. I ve studied him carefully. Weighed the risks. Searched his room while he was in the shower and found his secret stash hidden in a battered suitcase under the bed the red rubber exercise band that keeps up that knotty little bulge on his right forearm, and the ten-pound free weights. The sharpened pocketknife and the silver lighter with the engraved N, tucked into the zipper pocket along the back with a single cigarette.
The 8X10 photograph, pressed carefully flat, under the lining. It could be 1920, or two years ago. Carl the photographer, whose Time Travel book of surreal images once hit the bestseller list, specializes in timeless. The corners of the paper are soft, and there s a white crease in the middle that cuts the girl i
He s unimpressed by any of my random musings on boots, or the Walt Whitman and John Grisham I read him by the only sunny window in this house, or the series of jokes about talking cows that I tell while we take walks around the neighborhood. Things any loved one would do. This afternoon at IHOP, I watched him drown his pancakes in strawberry syrup and knife them into a precise patchwork of bites. I wanted to ask, Does the syrup remind you of blood?
He s trying to make me think his eyes are glimpses into a dark solar system where he retreats, alone, but I won t be fooled. I wonder what he sees in mine. Anything familiar?
He s a hell of an actor, according to old court testimony.
Right now, with a harmless bit of violence, he s reminding me that he s still strong. Relevant. I already know. I ve studied him carefully. Weighed the risks. Searched his room while he was in the shower and found his secret stash hidden in a battered suitcase under the bed the red rubber exercise band that keeps up that knotty little bulge on his right forearm, and the ten-pound free weights. The sharpened pocketknife and the silver lighter with the engraved N, tucked into the zipper pocket along the back with a single cigarette.
The 8X10 photograph, pressed carefully flat, under the lining. It could be 1920, or two years ago. Carl the photographer, whose Time Travel book of surreal images once hit the bestseller list, specializes in timeless. The corners of the paper are soft, and there s a white crease in the middle that cuts the girl i
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Autoren-Porträt von Julia Heaberlin
Julia Heaberlin is the author of the critically acclaimed Black-Eyed Susans, a USA Today and Times (U.K.) bestseller. Her psychological thrillers, including Playing Dead and Lie Still, have been sold in more than fifteen countries. Heaberlin is also an award-winning journalist who has worked at the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, The Detroit News, and The Dallas Morning News. She grew up in Texas and lives with her family near Dallas/Fort Worth, where she is at work on her next novel.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Julia Heaberlin
- 2018, Internationale Ausgabe, 368 Seiten, Masse: 15,6 x 23,3 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Ballantine Books
- ISBN-10: 0525619364
- ISBN-13: 9780525619369
- Erscheinungsdatum: 03.05.2018
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
You ll enjoy the journey and all its macabre side trips. You ll love the travel commentary written in Heaberlin s lean, muscular prose. . . . Signposts along the way warn of angst, secrets and deadly plot twists, but you ll never see what s coming. You ll step out of this fictional vehicle feeling like you ve been T-boned by an 18-wheeler. The Washington PostA rich hybrid work that s at once a zany, dialogue-propelled two-hander, a murder mystery, a road novel, a pair of psychological case studies and a meditation on photography. It would make a fine indie movie, although screen adaptation would entail sacrificing Heaberlin s evocative prose. The Sunday Times (UK), Thriller of the Month
I kept thinking of [Patricia] Highsmith while reading Paper Ghosts. . . . Heaberlin anchors her books with troubled but endearingly badass women. . . . Like Highsmith, Heaberlin displays a keen grasp of casual cruelty that defines human interaction, not to mention a flair for stories in which no one least of all the protagonist can be trusted. . . . Texas has yet again bred a major American noir writer. D Magazine
[An] artful and elegiac psychological thriller . . . Heaberlin brilliantly combines travelogue with a heartbreaking portrait of the damage done by childhood. . . . [She] wields words like weapons, with each one chosen to heighten tension, underscore emotion, or foreshadow doom. Publishers Weekly (starred review)
Entertainingly unnerving. The Dallas Morning News
Strong characterisation, haunting images, a wonderful sense of place, and some dark comedy make this travelogue-cum-psychological thriller well worth the read. The Guardian
Paper Ghosts is a riveting summer read that shows Texas in a powerfully intimate light. The Austin Chronicle
The emotion is amazing. The scenes and characters are both so strong and so believable. . . . Get ready to be terrified!
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Suspense Magazine
Heaberlin s spot-on depiction of mental anguish, her careful creation of characters who are mean and troubled yet compelling, and an unexpected twist at the end make this a winner. Booklist
Heaberlin s works beautifully evoke the texture and landscape of the state of Texas while acknowledging the ambivalence and occasional menace that underlies the sublime beauty of the state, and her latest is no exception. CrimeReads
Top-notch suspense, a dangerous game of hide-and-go-seek, masterfully crafted. Lone Star Literary
The layers of the story both peel away and deepen as the search into the mind of a killer takes turns no one is expecting. RT Book Reviews
This outstanding thriller will blow you out of your lawn chair. Minneapolis Star Tribune
Breathless storytelling at its very best. Elizabeth Haynes, New York Times bestselling author of Into the Darkest Corner
Heaberlin s spot-on depiction of mental anguish, her careful creation of characters who are mean and troubled yet compelling, and an unexpected twist at the end make this a winner. Booklist
Heaberlin s works beautifully evoke the texture and landscape of the state of Texas while acknowledging the ambivalence and occasional menace that underlies the sublime beauty of the state, and her latest is no exception. CrimeReads
Top-notch suspense, a dangerous game of hide-and-go-seek, masterfully crafted. Lone Star Literary
The layers of the story both peel away and deepen as the search into the mind of a killer takes turns no one is expecting. RT Book Reviews
This outstanding thriller will blow you out of your lawn chair. Minneapolis Star Tribune
Breathless storytelling at its very best. Elizabeth Haynes, New York Times bestselling author of Into the Darkest Corner
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