Cop Town: A Novel by Karin Slaughter (English) Paperback Book

Description: Cop Town by Karin Slaughter NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • Karin Slaughter, author of the bestselling Will Trent novels, is widely acclaimed as "one of the best crime novelists in America" (The Washington Post). Now she delivers her first stand-alone novel: an epic story of a city in the midst of seismic upheaval, a serial killer targeting cops, and a divided police force tasked with bringing a madman to justice. Atlanta, 1974: As a brutal murder and a furious manhunt rock the citys police department, Kate Murphy wonders if her first day on the job will also be her last. Shes determined to defy her privileged background by making her own way—wearing a badge and carrying a gun. But for a beautiful young woman, life will be anything but easy in the macho world of the Atlanta PD, where even the female cops have little mercy for rookies. Its also the worst day possible to start given that a beloved cop has been gunned down, his brothers in blue are out for blood, and the city is on the edge of war. Kate isnt the only woman on the force whos feeling the heat. Maggie Lawson followed her uncle and brother into the ranks to prove her worth in their cynical eyes. When she and Kate, her new partner, are pushed out of the citywide search for a cop killer, their fury, pain, and pride finally reach the boiling point. With a killer poised to strike again, they will pursue their own line of investigation, risking everything as they venture into the citys darkest heart. Relentlessly paced, acutely observed, wickedly funny, and often heartbreaking, Cop Town is Karin Slaughters most powerful novel yet—a tour de force of storytelling from our foremost master of character, atmosphere, and suspense.Features a preview of Karin Slaughters next novel, Pretty Girls"Karin Slaughter is simply one of the best thriller writers working today, and Cop Town shows the author at the top of her game—relentless pacing, complex characters, and gritty realism, all set against the backdrop of a city on the edge. Slaughters eye for detail and truth is unmatched. . . . Id follow her anywhere."—Gillian Flynn"Cop Town proves Karin Slaughter is one of Americas best writers. . . . She pulls her readers into a twisted tale of mystery and keeps them fascinated from start to finish."—The Huffington Post"Stunning . . . Karin Slaughter breaks new ground with this riveting story. If you havent yet read her, this is the moment."—Michael Connelly"Compulsively readable . . . will have your heart racing."—O: The Oprah Magazine"Intense . . . engrossing . . . evocative . . . [Karin Slaughters] first stand-alone novel [has] a gritty, action-packed plot and strong, believable characters."—Associated Press "Slaughter graphically exposes the rampant racism, homophobia, and misogyny of cop culture in the 1970s. . . . Winning leads, the retro setting, and a riveting plot make this one of Slaughters best."—Booklist (starred review) "Superb . . . explosive . . . [Cop Town] is sure to win over readers new to Slaughters work while reminding old fans of her enormous talent."—Library Journal (starred review) FORMAT Paperback LANGUAGE English CONDITION Brand New Author Biography Karin Slaughter is the New York Times and #1 internationally bestselling author of numerous thrillers, including Cop Town, Unseen, Criminal, Fallen, Broken, Undone, Fractured, Beyond Reach, Triptych, Faithless, and the e-original short stories "Snatched" and "Busted." She is a native of Georgia. Review "Karin Slaughter is simply one of the best thriller writers working today, and Cop Town shows the author at the top of her game—relentless pacing, complex characters, and gritty realism, all set against the backdrop of a city on the edge. Slaughters eye for detail and truth is unmatched. . . . Id follow her anywhere."—Gillian Flynn "Cop Town proves Karin Slaughter is one of Americas best writers. . . . She pulls her readers into a twisted tale of mystery and keeps them fascinated from start to finish."—The Huffington Post"Stunning . . . In Karin Slaughters first stand-alone novel, she breaks new ground with this riveting story of two young police officers trying to stop a serial killer targeting cops. Her characters, plot, and pacing are unrivaled among thriller writers and if you havent yet read her, this is the moment."—Michael Connelly "Compulsively readable . . . will have your heart racing."—O: The Oprah Magazine "Intense . . . engrossing . . . evocative . . . [Karin Slaughters] first stand-alone novel [has] a gritty, action-packed plot and strong, believable characters."—Associated Press "Slaughter graphically exposes the rampant racism, homophobia, and misogyny of cop culture in the 1970s. . . . Winning leads, the retro setting, and a riveting plot make this one of Slaughters best."—Booklist (starred review) "Superb . . . explosive . . . [Cop Town] is sure to win over readers new to Slaughters work while reminding old fans of her enormous talent."—Library Journal (starred review) "Evocative writing . . . amazing characters . . . with edge-of-your-seat suspense and a riveting plot . . . Slaughters first stand-alone book is a knockout."—RT Book Reviews "Scintillating . . . Slaughter does her usual fine job of exploring intriguingly troubled characters."—Publishers Weekly"A masterpiece . . . Much more than a thriller . . . Karin Slaughters unforgettable female characters and stunning evocation of time and place make Cop Town one of the most powerful and moving reads of recent memory."—Kathryn Stockett Review Quote "Karin Slaughter is simply one of the best thriller writers working today, and Excerpt from Book November 1974 Prologue Dawn broke over Peachtree Street. The sun razored open the downtown corridor, slicing past the construction cranes waiting to dip into the earth and pull up skyscrapers, hotels, convention centers. Frost spiderwebbed across the parks. Fog drifted through the streets. Trees slowly straightened their spines. The wet, ripe meat of the city lurched toward the November light. The only sound was footsteps. Heavy slaps echoed between the buildings as Jimmy Lawsons police-issue boots pounded the pavement. Sweat poured from his skin. His left knee wanted to give. His body was a symphony of pain. Every muscle was a plucked piano wire. His teeth gritted like a sand block. His heart was a snare drum. The black granite Equitable Building cast a square shadow as he crossed Pryor Street. How many blocks had Jimmy gone? How many more did he have to go? Don Wesley was thrown over his shoulder like a sack of flour. Firemans carry. Harder than it looked. Jimmys shoulder was ablaze. His spine drilled into his tailbone. His arm trembled from the effort of keeping Dons legs clamped to his chest. The man could already be dead. He wasnt moving. His head tapped into the small of Jimmys back as he barreled down Edgewood faster than hed ever carried the ball down the field. He didnt know if it was Dons blood or his own sweat that was rolling down the back of his legs, pooling into his boots. He wouldnt survive this. There was no way a man could survive this. The gun had snaked around the corner. Jimmy had watched it slither past the edge of a cinder-block wall. The sharp fangs of the front sights jutted up from the tip of the barrel. Raven MP-25. Six-round detachable box, blowback action, semiauto. The classic Saturday night special. Twenty-five bucks on any ghetto corner. Thats what his partners life had come down to. Twenty-five bucks. Jimmy faltered as he ran past First Atlanta Bank. His left knee almost touched the asphalt. Only adrenaline and fear saved him from falling. Quick bursts of recall kept setting off colorful fireworks in his head: Red shirtsleeve bunched up around a yellow-gold wristwatch. Black-gloved hand holding the white pearl grip. The rising sun had bathed the weapons dark steel in a bluish light. It didnt seem right that something black could have a glint to it, but the gun had almost glowed. And then the finger pulled back on the trigger. Jimmy knew the workings of a gun. The 25s slide was already racked, cartridge in the chamber. The trigger spring engaged the firing pin. The firing pin hit the primer. The primer ignited the gunpowder. The bullet flew from the chamber. The casing popped out of the ejection port. Dons head exploded. Jimmys memory did no work to raise the image. The violence was etched into his corneas, backdropped every time he blinked. Jimmy was looking at Don, then he was looking at the gun, then he was looking at how the side of Dons face had distorted into the color and texture of a rotten piece of fruit. Click-click. The gun had jammed. Otherwise, Jimmy wouldnt be running down the street right now. He would be face down in an alley beside Don, condoms and cigarette butts and needles sticking to their skin. Gilmer Street. Courtland. Piedmont. Three more blocks. His knee could hold out for three more blocks. Jimmy had never been on the business end of a firing gun. The flash was an explosion of starlight--millions of pinpricked pieces of sun lighting up the dark alley. His eardrums rang with the sound. His eyes stung from the cordite. At the same time, he felt the splash against his skin, like hot water, only he knew--he knew--it was blood and bone and pieces of flesh hitting his chest, his neck, his face. He tasted it on his tongue. Crunched the bone between his teeth. Don Wesleys blood. Don Wesleys bone. He was blinded by it. When Jimmy was a kid, his mother used to make him take his sister to the pool. She was so little back then. Her skinny, pale legs and arms poking out of her tiny suit reminded Jimmy of a baby praying mantis. In the water, hed cup his hands together, tell her hed caught a bug. She was a girl, but she loved looking at bugs. Shed paddle over to see, and Jimmy would squeeze his hands together so the water would squirt into her face. She would scream and scream. Sometimes she would cry, but hed still do it again the next time they were in the pool. Jimmy told himself it was all right because she kept falling for it. The problem wasnt that he was cruel. The problem was that she was stupid. Where was she now? Safe in bed, he hoped. Fast asleep, he prayed. She was on the job, too. His little sister. It wasnt safe. Jimmy could end up carrying her through the streets one day. He could be jostling her limp body, careening around the corner, his knee brushing the blacktop as the torn ligaments clashed like cymbals. Jimmy saw a glowing sign up ahead: a white field with a red cross in the center. Grady Hospital. He wanted to weep. He wanted to fall to the ground. But his burden would not lighten. If anything, Don got heavier. The last twenty yards were the hardest of Jimmys life. A group of black men were congregating under the sign. They were dressed in bright purples and greens. Their tight pants flared below the knee, showing a touch of white patent leather. Thick sideburns. Pencil mustaches. Gold rings on their fingers. Cadillacs parked a few feet away. The pimps were always in front of the hospital this time of morning. They smoked skinny cigars and watched the sun rise as they waited for their girls to get patched up for the morning rush hour. None of them offered to help the two bloody cops making their way toward the doors. They gawked. Their cigarillos stopped midair. Jimmy fell against the glass doors. Someone had forgotten to lock them. They butterflied open. His knee slued to the side. He fell face-first into the emergency waiting room. The jolt was like a bad tackle. Dons hipbone knifed into his chest. Jimmy felt the flex of his own ribs kissing his heart. He looked up. At least fifty pairs of eyes stared back. No one said a word. Somewhere in the bowels of the treatment area, a phone was ringing. The sound echoed through the barred doors. The Gradys. Over a decade of civil rights hadnt done shit. The waiting room was still divided: black on one side, white on the other. Like the pimps under the sign, they all stared at Jimmy. At Don Wesley. At the river of blood flowing beneath them. Jimmy was still on top of Don. It was a lewd scene, one man on top of another. One cop on top of another. Still, Jimmy cradled his hand to Dons face. Not the side that was blown open--the side that still looked like his partner. "Its okay," Jimmy managed, though he knew it wasnt okay. Would never be okay. "Its all right." Don coughed. Jimmys gut twisted at the sound. Hed been sure the man was dead. "Get help," he told the crowd, but it was a whisper, a begging little girls voice that came out of his own mouth. "Somebody get help." Don groaned. He was trying to speak. The flesh of his cheek was gone. Jimmy could see his tongue lolling between shattered bone and teeth. "Its okay." Jimmys voice was still a high whistle. He looked up again. No one would meet his gaze. There were no nurses. No doctors. No one was going to get help. No one was answering the damn telephone. Don groaned again. His tongue slacked outside of his jaw. "Its okay," Jimmy repeated. Tears streamed down his face. He felt sick and dizzy. "Its gonna be okay." Don inhaled sharply, like he was surprised. He held the air in his lungs for a few seconds before finally letting out a low, baleful moan. Jimmy felt the sound vibrating in his chest. Dons breath was sour--the smell of a soul leaving the body. The color of his flesh didnt drain so much as fill like a pitcher of cold buttermilk. His lips turned an earthy, funereal blue. The fluorescent lights cut white stripes into the flat green of his irises. Jimmy felt a darkness pass through him. It gripped his throat, then slowly reached its icy fingers into his chest. He opened his mouth for air, then forced it closed for fear that Dons ghost would flow into him. Somewhere, the phone was still ringing. "She-it," a raspy old woman grumbled. "Doctor aint never gone get to me now." Day One Monday 1 Maggie Lawson was upstairs in her bedroom when she heard the phone ringing in the kitchen. She checked her watch. There was nothing good about a phone ringing this early in the morning. Sounds from the kitchen echoed up the back stairs: The click of the receiver being lifted from the cradle. The low murmur of her mothers voice. The sharp snap of the phone cord slapping the floor as she walked back and forth across the kitchen. The linoleum had been worn away in staggered gray lines from the countless times Delia Lawson had paced the kitchen listening to bad news. The conversation didnt last long. Delia hung up the phone. The loud click echoed up to the rafters. Maggie knew every sound the old house made. She had spent a lifetime studying its moods. Even from her room, she could follow her mothers movements through the kitchen: The refrigerator door opening and closing. A cabinet banging shut. Eggs being cracked into a bowl. Thumb flicking her Bic to light a ci Details ISBN0345547500 Author Karin Slaughter Short Title COP TOWN Pages 464 Language English ISBN-10 0345547500 ISBN-13 9780345547507 Media Book Residence Atlanta, GA, US Birth 1971 Year 2015 Publication Date 2015-01-27 Subtitle A Novel Country of Publication United States AU Release Date 2015-01-27 NZ Release Date 2015-01-27 US Release Date 2015-01-27 UK Release Date 2015-01-27 Place of Publication New York Publisher Random House USA Inc Format Paperback Imprint Dell Publishing Co Inc.,U.S. DEWEY 813.54 Audience General We've got this At The Nile, if you're looking for it, we've got it. With fast shipping, low prices, friendly service and well over a million items - you're bound to find what you want, at a price you'll love! TheNile_Item_ID:92656040;

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