Download Dead Man's Handle (Modesty Blaise, Book 12) by Peter O'Donnell PDF

By Peter O'Donnell

This most modern installment within the Modesty Blaise pulp-fiction sequence opens with Willie Garvin, Modesty's dependable lieutenant, rescuing a Hong Kong businessman from a crimson chinese language penal complex. The thrills proceed whilst Willie is abducted by means of Sibyl Pray and held prisoner on the Hostel of Righteousness, the headquarters for delusional terrorist Dr. Thaddeus Pilgrim, at the Greek island of Kalivari. The plot thickens as Willie is brainwashed into believing that Modesty has been killed and that he needs to kill her murderer—a lady who seems to be precisely like Modesty. while Modesty unearths herself abducted and taken to Kalivari, she is pressured to struggle in lethal gladiatorial wrestle opposed to Willie. Peppered with creative twists of fortune, diverse and unique destinations, and a solid of fiendishly evil villains, this can be a vintage Modesty Blaise adventure.

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Extra info for Dead Man's Handle (Modesty Blaise, Book 12)

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I said it lightly enough, but all this talk was making me a little uncomfortable. I mean, it wasn’t like I’d never been in a locker room before. Guys are always commenting, and some like to strut. But I don’t think too many would admit if they stared. “They just . . don’t approve. Of the photographers, I guess. ” Jimmy rinsed pails, so I 25 really couldn’t see his face. ” Those kind of people? ” He did a one-shouldered shrug. “A couple candids here and there. I like candids, because it’s when they don’t think you’re looking that you catch people being themselves.

Sure, I’d never heard of him having any girlfriends, but I didn’t have any either. Didn’t mean a thing. I was busy. I had stuff to do. ” Shoving aside a stack of school crap, Mom perched on the edge of my bed. “I can understand that you’re angry. Jimmy should’ve told you before he entered those pictures in that contest. But he probably thought he didn’t stand a chance and, well . ” “That picture isn’t necessarily a bad thing. ” Then I got it. “Oh, great. You think Yale . . ” Mom got this defiant look.

I had to go that year, though, because I was president of the student council. We got there early to help the schools set up in the gym and lug in the boxes of pamphlets and junk they gave away to try to get you interested: T-shirts, key chains, chocolate-chip cookies, bottled water with the school logo. Pizza. One school even had a raffle going for an iPad, which I thought was cool. I even listened to the sales pitch just to get my name entered. Mostly, though, I went around to the different tables to make sure things were running smoothly and to see if the reps needed anything.

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