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Rage: A Novel

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Overview

In a host of consecutive bestsellers, Jonathan Kellerman has kept readers spellbound with the intense, psychologically acute adventures of Dr. Alex Delaware-and with excursions through the raw underside of L.A. and the coldest alleys of the criminal mind. Rage offers a powerful new case in point, as Delaware and LAPD homicide detective Milo Sturgis revisit a horrifying crime from the past that has taken on shocking and deadly new dimensions.

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Author Information

Bio of Jonathan Kellerman

Jonathan Kellerman is one of the world's most popular authors. He has brought his expertise as a clinical psychologist to more than two dozen bestselling crime novels, including the Alex Delaware series, The Butcher's Theater, Billy Straight, The Conspiracy Club, and Twisted. With his wife, the novelist Faye Kellerman, he co-authored the bestsellers Double Homicide and Capital Crimes. He is the author of numerous essays, short stories, scientific articles, two children's books, and three volumes of psychology, including Savage Spawn: Reflections on Violent Children. He has won the Goldwyn, Edgar, and Anthony awards, and has been nominated for a Shamus Award. Jonathan and Faye Kellerman live in California and New Mexico. Their four children include the novelist Jesse Kellerman.

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Additional Info

Imprint

Ballantine Books

Filesize

872.58 KB

Number of Pages

384

eBook ISBN

9780345484772

Awards

  • Listen Up Awards

Excerpt from: Rage by Jonathan Kellerman

On a slow, chilly Saturday in December, shortly after the Lakers overcame a sixteen-point halftime deficit and beat New Jersey, I got a call from a murderer.

I hadn't watched basketball since college, had returned to it because I was working at developing my leisure skills. The woman in my life was visiting her grandmother in Connecticut, the woman who used to be in my life was living in Seattle with her new guy'temporarily, she claimed, as if I had a right to care-and my caseload had just abated.

Three court cases in two months: two child-custody disputes, one relatively benign, the other nightmarish; and an injury consult on a fifteen-year-old girl who'd lost a hand in a car crash. Now all the papers were filed and I was ready for a week or two of nothing.

I'd downed a couple of beers during the game and was nearly dozing on my living room sofa. The distinctive squawk of the business phone roused me. Generally, I let my service pick up. Why I answered, I still can't say.

"Dr. Delaware?"

I didn't recognize his voice. Eight years had passed.

"Speaking. Who's this?"

"Rand."

Now I remembered. The same slurred voice deepened to a man's baritone. By now he'd be a man. Some kind of man.