Authors: Elle Wild
Tags: #Thrillers, #Women Sleuths, #Suspense, #Fiction, #Noir, #Mystery & Detective
Strange Things Done
Tags: Fiction, Thrillers, Suspense, Noir, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths
Fictionttt Thrillersttt Suspensettt Noirttt Mystery & Detectivettt Women Sleuthsttt
2015 Unhanged Arthur Award for Best Unpublished First Crime Novel — Winner
2014 Telegraph/Harvill Secker Crime Competition — Shortlisted
2014 Southwest Writers Annual Novel Writing Contest — Silver Winner
2014 Criminal Lines Crime-Writing Competition — Shortlisted
2014 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award — Longlisted
A dark and suspenseful noir thriller, set in the Yukon.
As winter closes in and the roads snow over in Dawson City, Yukon, newly arrived journalist Jo Silver investigates the dubious suicide of a local politician and quickly discovers that not everything in the sleepy tourist town is what it seems. Before long, law enforcement begins treating the death as a possible murder and Jo is the prime suspect.
Strange Things Done
is a top-notch thriller — a tense and stylish crime novel that explores the double themes of trust and betrayal.
Strange Things Done
is a boisterous tale of small town eccentrics, dark secrets, and strange things done in the bush, all delivered in crisp, expert prose. Wild’s suspenseful tale of murder and mayhem in the Yukon delivers on its promise of noir thrills and chills. (
Gail Anderson-Dargatz, author of The Cure for Death by Lightning and A Recipe for Bees
What a wonderful dark, quirky, and complex debut novel this is. Canada’s north was never more sinister. Jo Silver is a character who needs more than one book. (
Ian Hamilton, author of the internationally bestselling Ava Lee series
The title is perfect, the characters fully developed, the plot well-paced and gripping, but this is above all a novel about setting. And what a setting it is. Dawson City, Yukon, as the tourists flee and the long, dark, lonely winter settles in. The airport and roads close, the winds blow, and the snow piles up, trapping those who remain in town, including a journalist haunted by a tragic mistake and so determined not to make it again that events begin repeating themselves. This is the Dawson City of relentless gamblers, heavy drinkers, tattooed bar girls, ruthless miners, and people who’ve reached the end of the road and find there is nowhere left to go. The perfect setting for a novel about conflicted people and dark ambition. (
Vicki Delany, author of the Constable Molly Smith series
[A]n entertaining story that captures much of the surrealism of the North and the colorful characters drawn to it. (
A remote Canadian community hunkering down for a grim, lonely winter is the perfect setting for this atmospheric crime novel. (
Strange Things Done – MP
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Book website: http://www.ellewild.com/project/book-2/
Book hashtag: #StrangeThingsDone
Author Website: http://www.ellewild.com/
Author Blog: http://www.wild-tonic.com/
Author Twitter: @ElleWild_writer
For Mr. Wild and Max Wild.
And for Sally Whitehead.
Table of Contents
The pattern of her demise became suddenly clear, as though a dark kaleidoscope had just been turned. Everything snapped into focus then: the sharpness of the stars, the bowed outlines of trees, the expression on his face.
A blast of arctic air hit her with such force that it made her gasp and take a step back, breaking a crisp skin of snow. He moved forward, her partner in the same terrible dance. The air between them was charged, and out of the corner of her vision she saw something flash, as though the intent written on his face had become a tangible, physical force. She turned to flee into the shadows of the forest, but he caught the sleeve of her parka, then grabbed her by the throat. Impossible to twist away, though she railed and shoved. He swung her hard and the kaleidoscope turned again—filling her with a bright shower of sparks and then blackness.
Gradually she heard a distant clamour and something being dragged; that something was her. But what really bothered her was the bone-aching cold.
She opened her eyes and found herself staring up at tangle of stars. She marvelled for a moment at the emerald hue of the sky. How did she get here? Where was she going? The stars looked jittery. Not quite right. She felt like some lost explorer, painfully scanning from the Great Bear to Polaris, as though mapping the night sky would help pinpoint her location. But the stars would not stay still and it hurt to look at them. She turned her head away and saw instead the jagged silhouette of trees flashing past in jerky stops and starts. Snow and ice scraped against her cheek.
She felt herself lifted into the air and seated on something. A fence, perhaps. For one teetery moment, she balanced there, her arms hung loosely around someone’s shoulders like a sleepy child. Somewhere below her, the roaring grew louder. She was dimly aware of a tilting feeling, the needling scent of pine, and that she was slipping backwards. She lifted her head and their eyes met, a fleeting exchange filled with mutual surprise, and she remembered everything.