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FLESH & BONES by Paul Levine 1 FLESH & BONES by Paul Levine Flesh & Bones By Paul Levine SPECIAL FREE EXCERPT You may re-post this excerpt elsewhere on the web or link to it from your website, blog, or social networking site. The author encourages you to send your friends to the Paul Levine Website (http://www.paul- levine.com). “Flesh & Bones” is available on Kindle, Nook, and at Smashwords. More information at Paul Levine’s Website. 2 FLESH & BONES by Paul Levine CONTENTS ABOUT THE AUTHOR WHAT’S THE VERDICT ON JAKE LASSITER? ABOUT “FLESH & BONES” THE EXCERPT GET THE EBOOK 3 FLESH & BONES by Paul Levine ABOUT THE AUTHOR The author of 14 novels, Paul Levine won the John D. MacDonald fic- tion award and was nominated for the Edgar, Macavity, International Thriller, and James Thurber prizes. A former trial lawyer, he also wrote more than 20 episodes of the CBS military drama ―JAG‖ and co-created the Supreme Court drama ―First Monday‖ starring James Garner and Joe Mantegna. The critically acclaimed international bestseller ―To Speak for the Dead‖ was his first novel. He is also the author of the ―Solomon vs. Lord‖ series and the thriller ―Illegal.‖ His next novel will be ―Lassit- er,‖ a Bantam hardcover — and an e-book — in Fall 2011. You can sign up for the author‘s free newsletter and be eligible for signed books and more at http://www.paul-levine.com. 4 FLESH & BONES by Paul Levine WHAT’S THE VERDICT ON JAKE LASSITER? ―Irreverent...genuinely clever...great fun.‖ The New York Times Book Review ―Delicious...‖ Los Angeles Times ―Just the remedy for those who can‘t get enough Spenser and miss Travis McGee Terribly.‖ St. Petersburg Times ―Take one part John Grisham, two parts Carl Hiaasen, throw in a dash of John D. MacDonald, and voila! You‘ve got ‗Mortal Sin.‘‖ Tulsa World ―Enough twists and turns to satisfy Robert Ludlum fans. Publishers Weekly ―Genuinely chilling...Jake Lassiter is Travis McGee with trial experience.‖ The Washington Post Book World ―Cracking good action-mystery...funny, sardonic, and fast paced.‖ Detroit Free Press ―A blend of raucous humor and high adventure...wildly entertaining.‖ St. Louis Post-Dispatch ―Lively entertainment...Jake Lassiter is attractive, funny, savvy, and brave.‖ Chicago Tribune ―Mystery writing at its very, very best.‖ Larry King, USA TODAY ―A rip-roaring read. Vivid, funny and tense...stay-up-late action. Twice as good as Turow and Grisham and four times the fun.‖ Armchair Detective. 5 FLESH & BONES by Paul Levine ―Levine provides suspense, a little romance, some social commentary, and a huge helping of humor. For sheer entertainment, the Lassiter series is as good as any.‖ Booklist ―Breathlessly exciting.‖ Cleveland Plain Dealer ―A thriller as fast as the wind...Spiffy plotting, snappy dialogue and enough action to keep pulses racing combine to make this one a real barn-burner.‖ Tampa Tribune ―A dazzler, extremely well-written and featuring so many quotable passag- es...you‘ll want someone handy to read them aloud to.‖ Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine ―Sparkles.‖ The (London) Times 6 FLESH & BONES by Paul Levine ABOUT “FLESH & BONES” “I was sitting at the end of the bar sipping single-malt Scotch when I spotted the tall blond woman with the large green eyes and the small gray gun.” The next thing Jake Lassiter knows, the woman pumps three bullets into the man on the next barstool. Lassiter, the linebacker-turned-lawyer, has a new client. She‘s stunning model Chrissy Bernhardt, and the dead man is her wealthy father. The defense? Chrissy claims that she just recovered re- pressed memories of having been sexually abused by her father. Jake wants to believe her but suspects that the memories were either implant- ed by a shady psychiatrist or fabricated by Chrissy herself. Complicating the situation, Jake falls for his client, clouding his judgment. Is she an anguished victim or a cold-blooded killer? And what about her brother, who stands to inherit a fortune if Chrissy goes to prison? Jake wades in- to a quagmire of dirty deals, big money, and family corruption, all lead- ing to an explosive finale. ―Levine‘s prose gets leaner, meaner, better with every book...And Jake Lassiter has a lot more charisma than Perry Mason ever did.‖ – The Mi- ami Herald 7 FLESH & BONES by Paul Levine WHAT’S THE VERDICT ON “FLESH & BONES?” ―Filled with smart writing and smart remarks.‖– Dallas Morning News ―High suspense and innovative twists.‖ – Chicago Tribune ―The most dangerous liaison since Sam Spade and Brigid O‘Shaughnessy tangoed in ‗The Maltese Falcon.‘‖– Charlotte News & Observer ―Flesh & Bones,‖ specially priced at $.99 for a short time, is available on Kindle, Nook, and at Smashwords. 8 FLESH & BONES by Paul Levine Flesh & Bones By Paul Levine EXCERPT * * * 1 Loaded Dice I was sitting at the end of the bar sipping single-malt Scotch when I spotted the tall blond woman with the large green eyes and the small gray gun. Not that I knew she had a gun. Not that I even saw her at first, even though she was five feet eleven barefoot, and at the moment was wearing black stiletto heels. According to the A-Form later filled out by a bored female cop, the tall blond woman wore three items of clothing that night, and the Charles Jourdan shoes were two of them. The third was a scooped-back, low-cut, black tank minidress. Nothing more. No rings, necklaces . or underwear. She did carry a beaded black Versace 9 FLESH & BONES by Paul Levine handbag, which apparently held the gun, until she pulled it out and . But I‘m getting ahead of myself. When she walked in, I was twirling a snifter, admiring the golden liquid inside, trying to catch the smoky scent that had the Yuppies all atwitter, and likewise trying to figure out why I wasn‘t home drinking beer, eating pizza, and watching ESPN, as is my custom. Life in the no-passing lane. ―Do you sense the reek of the peat?‖ Rusty MacLean asked me, while twirling his own glass. ―Do the pepper and the heather transport you to the Highlands?‖ At the moment we were five feet above sea level, two blocks from the ocean on South Beach, with palms swaying and a Jamaican steel band playing, so you‘ll pardon me if the outdoor club called Paranoia didn‘t feel like Inverness or the Isle of Skye. ―Can we drink it now, or are you going to keep blowing smoke up my kilt?‖ I asked. ―Patience, Jake, patience. Did you clear your palette of the Royal Lochnagar?‖ ―Palette clear, throat dry. Can we drink it now?‖ ―Did you appreciate the Lochnagar‘s muscular, oaky flavor? The hint of sher- ry?‖ ―Okee? As in Okefenokee? As in swampy?‖ Rusty gave me his exasperated, why-do-I-put-up-with-you look. ―Jake, I‘m try- ing to civilize you. I‘ve been trying for years.‖ 10 FLESH & BONES by Paul Levine Rusty MacLean had been my teammate on the Dolphins about a thousand years ago. He was a flashy wide receiver with curly red hair flapping out of his helmet. A free spirit, the sports-writers called him. Undisciplined, the coaches said. Used to drive Shula crazy. Rusty loved to baby himself, nursing small injuries, sitting out Tuesday practices. It is a given in pro football that by midseason everyone is hurt. I‘ve played—though not very well— with turf toe, a broken nose, and a sepa- rated shoulder, once all at the same time. Rusty, who had far more natural ability, could make a hangnail seem like a compound fracture. Rusty MacLean raised his glass and said something that sounded like ―Slanjeh. To your health, old buddy.‖ I hoisted my glass. ―Fuel in your bagpipes.‖ He sipped at his Glenmorangie, while I swilled mine, letting it warm my throat. Damn good, but I wouldn‘t admit it. No need to spoil my image as a throwback and relentlessly uncool, unhip, and out of it. I am so far behind the trends that sometimes I‘m back in fashion, just like the Art Deco buildings in the very neigh- borhood where we now sat, drinking and swapping lies. I wore faded jeans, a T- shirt from a Key West oyster bar advising patrons to eat ‗em raw, and a nylon Penn State windbreaker. I thought I was underdressed until I saw a skinny guy in black silk pants, no shirt, and an open leather vest that couldn‘t hide his navel ring. Or his nipple ring. Rusty wore a black T-shirt under a double-breasted Armani suit, 11 FLESH & BONES by Paul Levine his hair tied back in a ponytail. He savored his drink, eyes closed, a beatific smile on his face. ―Mmmm,‖ he purred. ―I‘ve screwed girls younger than this Scotch.‖ ―And you‘re trying to civilize me?‖ Rusty was signaling the bartender, pointing to another bottle of the single-malt stuff. We were going in some sort of ritualized order, from Lowlands to Highlands to islands, and The Glenlivet was next. ―Not Glenlivet,‖ Rusty had instructed me, ―The Glenlivet.‖ ―I know. Like the Eiffel Tower, The Donald, The Coach.‖ ―Robust with a long finish,‖ Rusty said as the bartender poured the liquid gold into fresh snifters. ―The marriage of power and finesse.‖ A waitress slinked by, offering canapés from a silver tray, smoked salmon curled around cream cheese, caviar on tiny crackers. A long way from the trailer park in Key Largo. I remembered a tavern song my father used to warble after he‘d had a few, none of them sips of single-malt Scotch aged in oak casks.