One sunny morning Los Angeles bookseller and aspiring mystery author Adrien English opens his front door to murder. His old high school buddy (and employee) has been found stabbed to death in a back alley following a loud and very public argument with Adrien the previous evening.
Naturally the cops want to ask Adrien a few questions; they are none too impressed with his answers, and when a few hours later someone breaks into Adrien's shop and ransacks it, the law is inclined to think Adrien is trying to divert suspicion from himself.
Adrien knows better. Adrien knows he is next on the killer's list.
Genre: FICTION / Gay
**Fatal Shadows has been translated into 13 languages and is celebrating its 20th anniversary this year**
Originally published by the Gay Men's Press in 2000, Fatal Shadows has been called "a classic in gay mystery fiction."
The English edition is available in digital, print, and audio. The entire series is six books long. There is also a Choose Your Own Adventure based on Fatal Shadows.
Cops before breakfast. Before coffee even. As if Mondays weren’t bad enough. I stumbled downstairs, unlocked the glass front doors, shoved back the ornate security gate and let them in: two plainclothes detectives.
They identified themselves with a show of badges. Detective Chan was older, paunchy, a little rumpled, smelling of Old Spice and cigarettes as he brushed by me. The other one, Detective Riordan, was big and blond, with a neo-Nazi haircut and tawny eyes. Actually I had no idea what color his eyes were, but they were intent and unblinking, as though waiting for a sign of activity from the mouse hole.
“I’m afraid we have some bad news for you, Mr. English,” Detective Chan said as I started down the aisle of books toward my office.
I kept walking, as though I could walk away from whatever they were about to tell me.
“...concerning an employee of yours. A Mr. Robert Hersey.”
I slowed, stopped there in front of the Gothic section. A dozen damsels in distress (and flimsy negligees) caught my eyes. I turned to face the cops. They wore what I would describe as “official” expressions.
“What about Robert?” There was a cold sinking in my gut. I wished I’d stopped for shoes. Barefoot and unshaven, I felt unbraced for bad news. Of course it was bad news. Anything to do with Robert was bound to be bad news.
“He’s dead.” That was the tall one, Riordan. He-Man.
“Dead,” I repeated.
Silence.
“You don’t seem surprised.”
“Of course I’m surprised.” I was, wasn’t I? I felt kind of numb. “What happened? How did he die?”
They continued to eye me in that assessing way.
“He was murdered,” Detective Chan said.
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Chinese
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Unavailable for translation.
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French
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Unavailable for translation.
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German
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Unavailable for translation.
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Italian
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Unavailable for translation.
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Japanese
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Unavailable for translation.
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Dee Campos
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Spanish
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Unavailable for translation.
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