Produktdetaljer
Biografisk notat
Emma Viskic is an award-winning Australian crime writer. Her critically acclaimed debut Resurrection Bay was shortlisted for two CWA Daggers and won five Australian awards, including the Ned Kelly Award for Best Debut. Its sequel, And Fire Came Down, won the Davitt Award for Best Adult Novel. Emma studied Australian sign language (Auslan) in order to write the Caleb Zelic thrillers, of which Darkness for Light is the third. She is currently writing the fourth.A mazey delight of a mystery
Ian Rankin
Clever, brilliantly observed ... Viskic just keeps getting better. Her prose is elegant and economical and her storytelling is taut, realistic and full of surprises... a winner
Adrian McKinty
The tension builds from the very first page... brutal but compassionate
The Times, Crime Books of the Year
Propulsive and thrilling
- Lucy Treloar, author of Salt Creek,
Razor-sharp... James Ellory and Paul Cleave fans will be pleased
Publishers Weekly, starred review
There is no Australian crime hero like Caleb Zelic. There's no Nordic, American, English or French crime hero like him. He lives in a genre of his own: the perfect outsider in an uncaring world. Inventive, loyal, tormented and whip-smart, he stands at the moral centre of a twisting tale of corruption Darkness for Light takes Emma Viskic's deaf investigator to the limits of his considerable abilities
Jock Serong, author of The Rules of Backyard Cricket
Praise for the Caleb Zelic thrillers
- .., --
Stunning... original and splendidly plotted [with] a superb cast of main characters
The Times, Crime Book of the Month
An Australian thriller at its finest. A captivating read from first page to last
Jane Harper, author of The Dry
Trailing literary prizes in its wake... superbly characterized... well above most contemporary crime fiction
Financial Times, Books of the Year
Outstanding... Pacy, violent but with a big thundering heart
Eva Dolan
More than lives up to its hype... Fierce, fast-moving, violent... it is as exciting a debut as fellow Australian Jane Harper's The Dry, and I can think of no higher praise
Daily Mail
There is romance, and there is violence - plus a devastating denouement... Zelic is a good man in a wicked world and it will be a real pleasure to meet him again
Evening Standard
A worthy successor [to Resurrection Bay]... a fascinating world, very cleverly painted through a prose that is spare and yet extremely effective... [with] an uncanny ability to skewer conventions and pierce through to the truth
Thriller Books Journal
A tightly plotted, sophisticated thriller
The Writes of Woman (blog)
An addictive mix of compelling characters and gripping plot
Crime Thriller Hound (blog)
Plenty of intrigue in plot and character
David's Book World (blog)
The opening chapter had me completely hooked! I was absolutely enthralled... a taut storyline, addictive atmosphere and compelling narrative had me reading this book every spare moment I had
Crime Book Junkie (blog)
The subtle mix of humour, intriguing mystery, fire and a reprise for the best characters from the first novel make for a dark entertaining thriller
Nudge Books
It's a scorcher... an utterly compelling and thought provoking read
Raven Crime Reads
For memorable protagonists, look no further than Emma Viskic
- Jane Harper, BookPage
Ned Kelly Award-winner Viskic combines nuanced characters and thoughtful plotting in her impressive sequel to Resurrection Bay
Publishers Weekly (starred review)
Viskic won the Ned Kelly Award last year for Resurrection Bay, her debut, and her second in the series promises to be just as devastating - and ever so Australian, with a bushfire alert and particularly Australian conflicts ratcheting up the tension throughout
CrimeReads, Fall's Best Sophomore Fiction
This is crime fiction at its best. Loved Jane Harper's The Dry? Read this
Written by Sime
A thoroughly character-driven story, exploring the intricacies of family and race in Australia. And dammit. The wait for book 3 is going to drive me nuts
Editing Everything
From Sherlock Holmes to Jack Irish, the stubborn sleuth has been around for a while, but Viskic has managed to breathe new life into an old formula with Caleb Zelic
Townsville Bulletin
Emma Viskic is a terrific, gutsy writer with great insight into the murkiness of both criminal and heroic motivations
Emily Maguire, author of An Isolated Incident
This is a plot that keeps us guessing to the end [before] it reaches a dramatic but ultimately hopeful resolution and now we can only wait on tenterhooks for the next instalment. Viskic takes her place up there with Australia's new legion of uber-talented female crime writers such as Jane Harper and Candice Fox, deservedly so.
Better Reading, book of the week
A page-turning crime thriller
ArtsHub
Offers more of the great characters and thrilling storytelling as the first book. For crime fans unacquainted with Caleb Zelic, I would recommend setting aside a weekend and settling in
Advertiser
Viskic's descriptions of place are often so intense you can smell them
Canberra Times
Another gripping story... The immediacy of its intrigue, and Caleb's struggle with the traumatic aftershock of earlier events, makes this second novel even more difficult to put down than the first
Big Issue Australia
Beautifully balanced characterisations, action and setting
Newtown Review of Books
Zelic's second outing doesn't disappoint: Viskic's prose sprints along, sprinkled with Australian colloquialisms deserving of Kath and Kim... Great stuff
Courier Mail
Outstanding... gripping and violent... a hero who is original and appealing
Guardian
A children’s farm was a nice change. Clandestine meetings were
usually held in dark pubs, not urban pastures with good sightlines
and pleasant views. Half an hour before closing time, a few families
were still out wandering the gardens and gazing at cows. Crisp air
and deep-blue sky, a lingering warmth to the late afternoon sun.
Melbourne autumn at its best.
Caleb paid the staggering entrance fee and headed down
the path at a brisk pace. The five-block drive from his office had
taken twenty minutes thanks to roadworks, and everything
about this possible client screamed anxiety – the anonymous
email address and lack of phone number, the request they meet
immediately.
A feeling of lightness despite the rush to get here: the end of a
good day, in a good week, in a greatly improved year. Thank God.
Caleb reached an enclosed garden with amber-leaved trees.
Fluffy chickens were scratching at the ground, their feathers
moulting like snow. No self-described stocky man in a charcoal
suit. No men at all. Just a mother and her bandy-legged toddler
offering grass to the disinterested birds. A glimpse into a possible
future: a small hand in his, Kat by his side, an afternoon together
in the sun. The mother turned and said something to him. Her
words were too fast to catch, but her expression was clear: Go
away weird, smiling man.
He left.
No one was waiting on the other side of the gate, or by the barns.
Looked like Martin Amon was a no-show. A bit of a surprise; the
man hadn’t come across as flaky in their brief email conversation.
No worrying overuse of capital letters or exclamation marks, just
a few blunt sentences that gave the impression of someone used
to taking charge. Maybe it was just as well. Odds were, Amon was
an uptight manager worried about minor fraud, but his urgency
could also signal something more ominous. The exact kind of work
Caleb avoided these days. He only took safe jobs now – employee
checks and embezzlement cases, security advice – nothing that
could bring fear and violence back into his life. A lesson finally
learned after his brother. After Frankie.
He looped around the far side of the garden for a final look.
More chickens here, three of them pecking at a darkened patch
of grass near a wooden shed. Small lumps of something pale and
glistening. A cloying smell, like a butcher’s shop on a summer’s
day. He knew that smell, still started from his dreams with it
thickening his breath.
He stopped walking.
A long drag-mark led from the birds into the shed; wet, as
though someone had slopped a dirty mop across the grass. Stray
tufts of down had stuck to it, stirring gently in the breeze. White
feathers, stained red.
Bile rose in his throat.
Movement to his right, the mother and toddler coming around
the corner towards him. The child gave him a gummy smile and
offered a fistful of grass. No air to speak; no words. Caleb put
up a hand and signed for them to stop. The woman froze, her
mouth opening as she noticed the pallid flecks and damp grass,
the chickens peck, peck, pecking. She scooped up her child and ran.
He should run, too.
Should turn and leave and never come back.
He skirted carefully around the chickens and followed the long
stain to the doorway. No windows, his eyes slow to make sense of
the shadows. A peaked wooden ceiling, high stacks of hay against
the walls. The man was lying on his side by the door. Charcoal suit,
a few extra kilos softening his stocky build, sandy hair matted at
the back. No face, just a bloodied pulp of flesh and bone.