The World of Logan Terret
"Terret cleverly riffs on hardboiled fiction tropes, piling on red herrings and suspects to deliriously entertaining effect… noir fans will hope for a sequel." —Publishers Weekly
"An engaging mix of humor, mystery, history, and geologic curiosities." — Kirkus Reviews
“Liked it! I suspect most readers will be stunned and amazed at Nick's ability to find geological analogies to life.”
—A retired geology professor, eminent earthquake expert, past officer of the Geological Society of America, corporate CEO, and author of numerous scholarly papers.
From Simon & Schuster, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, etc.
"Mix the western setting of C. J. Box’s Joe Pickett with the noir tropes of Raymond Chandler and the humor of Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum, and you get this witty, thrilling mystery fueled by diverse characters and set against the stunning backdrop of the Arizona desert."
Nick Cameron is a PhD geologist of independent means who grew up reading his grandfather’s stash of hardboiled detective novels. He boxes for fun, packs a Colt Commander, and has a knack for finding bodies—dead and alive.
When an agate heiress arrives in Quartzrock, Arizona, on the eve of a gem show, she asks Nick for help selling some gemstones—and soon becomes a suspect in the bizarre murders of two prominent lapidaries. Stalked by the mysterious killer, she and Nick dodge police while Nick works with his mentor Frankie Benally—a Navajo jewelry artist and brilliant armchair detective—to unravel the case. But even Frankie is stumped—until, at an isolated hacienda deep in the Sonoran Desert, Nick meets the great-granddaughter of a soldadera who served with Pancho Villa’s División del Norte.
Along the way, Nick gets help from an old-fashioned gentleman sheriff, a crusty army retiree, and a clutch of feisty dames including the agate heiress, a chemical engineer, a computer scientist, a fishing charter captain, a Mexican aristocrat, and the memoirs of a machine-gunner soldadera. He navigates plot twists and red herrings that would make Sam Spade reach for the aspirin. And he does it all with deadpan humor that’ll make you spit out your bourbon.
