“Carsten Stroud is a world-class storyteller, and his talents have never been displayed to better advantage than they are in The Shimmer. He effortlessly combines hard-nosed cops, mafia dons, and supernatural events with effortless, convincing ease. The prose is music. He had me reading late into the night. Thanks for the advance look.”
…Steven King
How do you hunt a killer who can go back in time and make sure you never get born?
A police pursuit kicks Sergeant Jack Redding of the Florida Highway Patrol and his trainee Julie Karras into a shootout that ends with one girl dead and another in cuffs and the driver of the SUV fleeing into the Intracoastal Waterway. Redding stays on the hunt, driven by the trace memory that he knows that running woman – and he does, because his grandfather – a cop in Jacksonville – was hunting the same woman in 1957.
In THE SHIMMER, Redding and his partner Pandora Jansson chase a seductive serial killer who can ride THE SHIMMER across decades. The pursuit cuts from modern day Jacksonville to Mafia-ruled Saint Augustine in 1957 and then to the French Quarter of New Orleans in 1914, and the stakes turn brutal when Jack, whose wife and child died in a crash the previous Christmas Eve, faces a terrible choice: help his grandfather catch the killer, or change time itself and try to save his wife and child.
THE SHIMMER is a unique time-shifting thriller that will stay with you long after its utterly unforeseen and yet perfectly diabolical ending.
Author’s Bio
Carsten Stroud…
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New Titles
- The Niceville Trilogy
- Niceville
- The Homecoming
- The Reckoning
Non-Fiction
- Contempt of Court
- Close Pursuit
- The Blue Wall
Fiction
- Cobraville
- Cuba Strait
- Black Water Transit
- Deadly Force
- Iron Bravo
- Lizard Skin
- Snipers Moon
The Niceville Trilogy – BY Carsten Stroud
… a city of around ten-thousand people, a Forties-style Deep South town with live oaks in the shady squares, Spanish-moss hanging from the branches, blue-and-gold street cars rumbling over the pavements, the down-town streets stitched together by overhead power lines and trolley wires, graveyards for the Confederate Dead and those misguided Union boys … a misty and humid place with the scent of the distant sea a salt tang in the air, a soft golden light lying over it all, a river called The Tulip snaking through it, and everywhere the smell of ferns and flowers growing in fresh-turned gardens, exactly like the scent of a new-cut grave …
… and a small stand of original New World forest on top of the looming bluffs on the north-eastern edge of the town. In the middle of this stand of Old Forest is Crater Sink, a limestone pit ringed by stone cliffs coated in black moss and defining a nearly-perfect circle of cold black water a hundred feet across and a thousand feet deep. Niceville folk liked to say that things went into Crater Sink but nothing ever came out of it.