Dark Horse: The pulse-racing Sunday Times bestseller

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Perfectly paced and beautifully structured... Thrillers don't get any better than this." -- Providence Journal In this instalment, Evan spends a good bit of time in a sewer, watches an ultrasound, is faced with numerous scenes that really challenge his control over his OCD, and is distracted from his main mission by a medical emergency involving his ongoing love interest. I’m sorry, Don Urrea. I’d worked a long day. She was walking along the roadside wearing a tight dress. Very revealing.” Standing now at the edge of the spit-polished dance floor watching his daughter pinball between clusters of friends in her burnt-orange quinceañera dress, he understood that he could not be as bad as his reputation suggested because she came from him. Anjelina’s hair fell across one eye. Her skin, smooth as satin. Tejano cheeks like her mother’s, broad and defined. The impossible sweetness of her gaze.

I am saving for new clothes for her,” Silvia snarled, patting her daughter’s head. “It was not a revealing dress. It was too small.” A new series character to rival Reacher . . . anyone reading Orphan X won't be surprised that a cadre of peers, from Tess Gerritsen to Lee Child, have lined up to praise it Independent Even at ten at night, the South Texas humidity hit him in the face like a tar mop. They’d taken Chucho Ochoa to the administrative office building next door. This was helpful. For what was to come, adjoining walls were not preferable. A stellar series, and the stories get better with each instalment. [Evan Smoak is] the man you want in your corner when justice is needed Daily Mail Anjelina’s purity—her inner light—brought a familiar ache to his chest. That the world did not deserve her. That it would hurt her as it was designed to hurt all beautiful young women. And that even if he summoned the whole of the power and menace at his disposal to preserve her innocence, he would eventually fail, because innocence was destined for spoiling.And,” Aragón said, “she has shame, too. Not your shame. Your shame is a luxury. Her shame is a stain you put on her soul.” Orphan X blows the doors off most thrillers I've read and catapults the readers on a cat-and-mouse that feels like a missile launch. Read this book. You will thank me later David Baldacci Aragón watched his girl glide across the maple hardwood, her hips and shoulders moving separately and yet in sync, an orbit of muscle and grace. As if music was a language that spoke through her body when she danced. Aragón hesitated and regarded his daughter once more through the press of bodies. One of her girlfriends—Teresa, the chesty one—tugged at her hand, reeling her toward the dance floor. Orphan X is not good. Orphan X is great. Whatever you like best in a thriller - action, plot, character, suspense - Orphan X has it Simon Toyne

But she looked right through them all to Nico Esposito. Then she drifted to the boy’s table, the crowd parting. When she crouched in front of him, his distorted face lit up with joy. She took his hands and helped him to his feet. The one perfect thing he’d ever had a hand in creating, and now he was haunted by her very existence—her vulnerability in a world that contained men like him. The curse of every father who loved beyond logic, beyond reason. The Orphan X series is a thriller series which began publication in 2016. Author Gregg Hurwitz is a New York Times Bestselling Author of 18 books, and is also a New York Times bestselling comic book writer, having written Wolverine and Punisher stories for Marvel as well as Batman and Penguin stories for DC comics. Many of his books have been nominated for numerous awards, as well as shortlisted twice for Best Novel of the Year by International Thriller Writers.

Dark Horse

Aragón realized that his own cheeks were wet. And yet he was unashamed. Like them all, he was blessed to breathe the same air as his daughter, to admire her and know that some part of her was his and some part of him hers. Slumped bonelessly in a chair at the periphery, the Esposito boy watched from beneath his mother’s wing. Twelve years old with ankle-foot orthotics bowing out his sneakers on either side. His arms, wrapped in elbow-prophylactic braces, were splayed wide as if anticipating a hug. Last year Aragón had had him flown to the Cerebral Palsy Clinic at Cook Children’s in Fort Worth so he could be neuroimaged and fitted with carbon-fiber prosthetics. But she did not, and she told you,” Aragón said. “Women should never be dominated. If you want a woman, you must earn her.” Facing his daughter across the dance floor, Aragón held out a hand, and his body man, Eduardo Gómez, materialized out of thin air to place a flute of Cristal in his palm. Aragón began his toast. “Today you turn eighteen.” He paused, caught off guard by the emotion graveling his deep voice. “You become an adult in the eyes of the law. For me and your mamá—who wishes with all her heart that she could be here—this is wondrous. And yet also bittersweet.”