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Cry Wolf: A Novel [Paperback]

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  • Category: Books (Fiction)
  • Author:  Hoag, Tami
  • Author:  Hoag, Tami
  • ISBN-10:  1984821040
  • ISBN-10:  1984821040
  • ISBN-13:  9781984821041
  • ISBN-13:  9781984821041
  • Publisher:  Bantam
  • Publisher:  Bantam
  • Pages:  560
  • Pages:  560
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Pub Date:  01-May-2019
  • Pub Date:  01-May-2019
  • SKU:  1984821040-11-SPLV
  • SKU:  1984821040-11-SPLV
  • Item ID: 103344284
  • Seller: ShopSpell
  • Ships in: 2 business days
  • Transit time: Up to 5 business days
  • Delivery by: Sep 29 to Oct 01
  • Notes: Brand New Book. Order Now.
The scream heard by no one is the deadliest.

In the rural parishes of Louisiana's French Triangle, young women are disappearing one by one, only to turn up on the banks of the bayou, strangled and cast aside where they are sure to be found. But there is one trophy the killer prizes above all others, one woman who must be silenced forever....

Attorney Laurel Chandler did not come back to Bayou Breaux to seek justice. That once-burning obsession had destroyed her credibility, her career, her marriage—and nearly her sanity. But when a ruthless predator strikes too close to home, she's lured into a perverse game from which there may be no escape. Once before, Laurel's cries against a monstrous evil went unanswered. Who will listen now?"A master of the genre."—Publishers WeeklyBestselling author Tami Hoag’s novels have appeared regularly on national bestseller lists since the publication of her first book in 1988. She lives in Los Angeles.Prologue


The bateau slides through the still waters of the bayou. Still, black waters as dark as the night sky. As dark as the heart of a killer. In the water stand the cypress, rank upon rank, tall sentinels as motionless and silent as death. Behind them, on the banks, the weeping willows, boughs bowed as if by grief, and the live oak with their twisted trunks and gnarled branches, looking like enchanted things eternally frozen in a moment of agony. And from their contorted limbs hangs the moss, gray and dusty and tattered, like old feather boas left to rot in the attic of some long-forgotten, long-ruined mansion.

All is gray and black in the night in the swamp. The absence of light, the reflection of light. A sliver of moon is wedged between high clouds, then disappears. Stillness descends all around as the boat passes. Eyes peer out from thló@
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