Jeff Lindsay, author, including the popular Dexter series. The NOOK Book (eBook) of the Double Dexter (Dexter Series #6) by Jeff Lindsay at Barnes & Noble. FREE Shipping on $25 or more!

“Like a breath of fresh air blowing across all crime-novel conventions, there is Dexter.” —Time Dexter Morgan is not your average serial killer. He enjoys his day job as a blood spatter analyst for the Miami Police Department... But he lives for his nighttime hobby of hunting other killers.

Dexter is therefore not pleased to discover that someone is shadowing him, observ­ing him, and copying his methods. Dexter is not one to tol­erate displeasure... In fact, he has a knack for extricating himself from trouble in his own pleasurable way. Like the previous five best-selling novels in the Dexter series, Double Dexter showcases the witty, macabre origi­nality that has propelled Jeff Lindsay to international suc­cess. Double Dexter is raucously entertaining...

Full of smart suspense and dark laughs. From the Hardcover edition. ' Double Dexter is Lindsay's strongest outing as he richly delves into Dexter's very scarred psyche.Dexter continues to be one of the genre's most unusual heroes.' South Florida Sun-Sentinal 'Lindsay's sharp and wicked wit is in full view in this installment.[ Double Dexter] had me laughing out loud.' Haegemonia Legions Of Iron Nocd Crack.

USA Today RAVES FOR JEFF LINDSAY’S ORIGINAL DEXTER NOVELS “[A] macabre tour-de-force.” —New York Times Book Review “Lindsay’s original, cockeyed view of the world is alive and well.” —Los Angeles Times “Delicious and delightful might not be the best words to describe a serial killer. Unless, of course, we’re talking about the delectable Dexter Morgan.... Lindsay, the novelist, just keeps getting better.” —USA Today From the Hardcover edition. Chapter 1 Of course there are clouds. They take over the sky and hide that pulsing swollen moon that is clearing its throat above them. The slow trickle of its light is there—but any possible glimmer is hidden, invisible behind the clouds that have rolled in low and bloated and so very full. Soon the clouds will open up and pour down a heavy summer rain, so very soon, because they, too, are full of what they must do, full to the point of bursting, so very full that they, too, must work to hold back the flood that absolutely must come, and soon.

Soon—but not now, not yet. They must wait, too, swelling with the power of all that is growing in them, the true and blinding cur- rent of what will come, of what must come when it is right, when it is beyond necessary and into the true shape of this moment, when it forges the real and necessary skeleton of now— But that time is not yet here, not yet. And so the clouds glower and bunch and wait, letting the need build, and the tension grows with it. It will be soon; it has to be soon.

In only a few moments these dark and silent clouds will shatter the silence of the night with the unbearable bright omnipotence of their might and blast the darkness into flickering shards—and then, only then, the release will come. The clouds will open up and all the tension of holding in so much weight will flow out in the pure bliss of letting go, and the clean joy of it will pour out and flood the world with its oh-so-happy gift of light and liberation. Read Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them Pdf Reader there. That moment is near, so tantalizingly close—but it is not yet. And so the clouds wait for that just-right moment, growing their darkness, swelling even bigger and heavier with shadow, until they absolutely must let go. And here below, in the lightless night? Here on the ground, in the stark pool of shadow these clouds have made with their moon-sheltering sky-hogging sulkiness? What can this be, over there, skyless and dark, sliding through the night so very full and ready and waiting, just like the clouds?

And it is waiting, whatever its dark self might be; it waits tense and coiled and watching for that perfect moment to do what it will, what it must, what it has always done. And that moment skitters closer on little mice feet as if it too knows what must come and fears it, and feels the terror of the stalking moment of rightness that is even now pattering up close, closer—until it is right there behind you, looking at your neck and nearly tasting the warm flutter of those tender veins and thinking, Now. And a shattering blast of lightning shreds the dark night and shows a large and soft-looking man scuttling across the ground, as if he, too, has felt the dark breath so close behind. Thunder booms and lightning flashes again and the figure is closer, juggling a laptop and a manila folder as he fumbles for keys and disappears into darkness again as the lightning ends. One more burst of lightning; the man is very close now, clutching his burden and holding a car key in the air.