Résultats de "Charlie Huston" dans Toutes les catégories

Henry “call me Hank” Thompson used to play California baseball. Now he tends to a bar on Manhattan’s Lower East Side. When two Russians in tracksuits beat Hank to a pulp, he gets the clue: someone wants something from him. He just doesn’t know what it is, where it is, or how to make them understand he doesn’t have it. Within twenty-four hours, Hank is running over rooftops, playing hide-and-seek with the NYPD, riding the subway with a dead man at his side, and counting a whole lot of cash on a concrete floor. All because of some Russian hoods and a flat-out freakshow of goons.

Henry "Hank" Thompson's got a good thing going - a hut on a quiet Mexican beach, morning swims, a nice breakfast place a few miles down shore…until a backpacker with a Russian accent shows up and starts asking questions about his past. Questions Hank doesn't want to deal with. And then the backpacker mentions the money…and Hank's parents. So Hank makes a fateful move…because no one threatens Hank's family.

Reluctant hit man Henry Thompson has fallen on hard times. His grip on life is disintegrating, his pistol hand is shaking, his body is pinned to his living room couch by painkillers - and his boss, Russian mobster David Dolokhov, isn't happy about any of it. So Henry is surprised when he's handed a new assignment: Keep tabs on a minor league baseball star named Miguel Arenas. Henry has no pity for the slugger and the wicked gambling problem that got him in trouble, but he can't help liking the guy.

From the Battery to the Bronx, Manhattan is crawling with Vampyres. Joe Pitt is one of them, and he's not happy about it. Yeah, he gets to be tough as nails and hard to kill. But spending his nights trying to score a pint of blood to feed the Vyrus that's eating at him isn't his idea of a good time.

There’s only so much room on the Island, only so much blood, and Manhattan’s Vampyre Clans aren’t interested in sharing. So when the Vyrus-infected dregs of New York’s outer boroughs start creeping across the bridges, the Clans want to know why. Bad luck for PI Joe Pitt. Joe used to be a Rogue, work off his own dime, pick his own gigs, but tight times and a terminally ill girlfriend pushed him to the renegade Society Clan. Now he has all the cash and blood he needs, but at a steep price.

Joe Pitt's life sucks. He hasn't had a case or a job in God knows how long, and his stashes are running on empty. What stashes? The only ones that count to a guy like Joe: blood and money. The money he uses to buy blood; the blood he drinks. Hey, it's that or your neck, buddy.

A thief who can travel through mirrors, a video game that threatens to spill out of the virtual world, a doomsday cult on a collision course with destiny, and a missing teenager at the center of it all. With the world on the brink of every kind of apocalypse, humanity needs a hero. What it gets is Sid Catchpenny.

Webster Fillmore Goodhue has found temporary work as one of the mop-up crew for the Los Angeles County crime division. In other words, he cleans up grisly crime scenes for the cops. When the daughter of a recent Malibu suicide victim asks for his help cleaning up after her brother has gotten into a little trouble, every cell in Web's brain is telling him to turn her down. But she's very attractive, and before he knows it, he's well on his way to getting his face kicked in.

It’s like this: a series of bullet-riddled bad breaks has seen rogue Vampyre and terminal tough guy Joe Pitt go from PI for hire to Clan-connected enforcer to dead man walking in a New York minute. And after burning all his bridges, the only one left to cross leads to the Bronx, where Joe’s brass knuckles and straight razor can’t keep him from running afoul of a sadistic old bloodsucker with a bad bark and a worse bite. Even if every Clan in Manhattan is hollering for Joe’s head on a stick, it’s got to be better than trying to survive in the outer-borough wilderness.

Blood spilled on the asphalt of this town long years gone has left a stain, and it's spreading.

After exposing the secret source of blood for half of Manhattan's Vampyres, private eye Joe Pitt is definitely a dead man walking. For a year he's sloshed around the subway tunnels and sewers, tapping the veins of the lost, while above ground a Vampyre civil war threatens to drag the Clans into the sunlight once and for all. What's it gonna take to dig him up?

Known by the name of the psychological experiment that fostered his emotionless brutality, Skinner founded his career in "asset protection" on fear. To touch anyone under Skinner's protection was to invite destruction. A savagely effective methodology, until Skinner's CIA handlers began to fear him as much as his enemies did and banished him to the hinterlands of the intelligence community.

The world is in the grip of an epidemic of sleeplessness and one man will risk everything to find out what caused it. In his signature style of fast-paced action, outrageous violence, and graphically described scenes, we are tossed into a dramatic turbulence unlike anything you've ever read or heard.