By Nevada Barr
Park ranger Anna Pigeon returns, in a secret that unfolds in and round Lake enhanced, in whose chilling depths sunken treasure comes with a perilous fee. In her most recent secret, Nevada Barr sends Ranger Pigeon to a brand new submit amid the chilly, abandoned, and remoted fantastic thing about Isle Royale nationwide Park, a distant island off the coast of Michigan identified for amazing deep-water dives of wrecked crusing vessels. abandoning thoughts of the Texas excessive wasteland and the environmental rip-off she helped discover, Anna is adjusting to the cool damp of Lake stronger and the spirits and lore of the northern Midwest. but if a regimen software for a diving allow finds a grisly underwater homicide, Anna reveals herself 260 toes lower than the forbidding floor of the lake, trying to find the relationship among a drowned guy and an age-old shipment send. Written with a naturalist's believe for the desolate tract and a willing realizing of characters who thrive in severe stipulations, an outstanding loss of life is a passionate, atmospheric page-turner.
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The 1st ANNA PIGEON NOVELThe attention-grabbing hero of Nevada Barr’s award-winning series—park ranger Anna Pigeon—has introduced an unyielding love of nature and experience of reasonable play to the secret style. song of the Cat is the acclaimed novel that first brought readers to Anna, as a lady trying to find peace within the wilderness—and discovering homicide in its place… Patrolling the distant West Texas backcountry, Anna’s first task as a countrywide park ranger is marred via violence she idea she had left at the back of: the brutal loss of life of a fellow ranger.
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Extra info for A Superior Death
What man could send, woman could dodge. Lake Superior waited. She had plenty of time and lots of fishes to feed. The Belle Isle plowed through the crest of a three-meter wave and, in the seconds of visibility allowed between the beat of water and wiper blades, Anna saw the running lights of a small vessel ahead and fifty yards to the right. She braced herself between the dash and the butt-high pilot’s bench and picked up the radio mike. “The Low Dollar, the Low Dollar, this is the Belle Isle. ” Through the garble of static a man’s voice replied: “Yeah, yeah.
Anna packed a tent and backcountry gear for several nights out. On the way back, she would spend a couple of days checking the more remote campsites. The sun was high by the time she shoved off. By Anna’s standards it never got warm—not the deep bone-warming temperatures that baked the poisons out down in the Trans-Pecos—but the weather held jewel-bright. A breeze cooled by thirty-nine-degree waters cut across the bow when she nosed her sea kayak into the open water around Blake’s Point at the island’s northernmost tip, and even through the insulating layers her butt was cold.
Gold-colored stone, broken into blocks ten and twenty feet on a side, glimmered through the crystal water. Timber, blown over from the mainland or toppled from ISRO’s own shores, was scattered like jackstraws on the lake bottom. In places the fissured rock and bleached wood gave the disconcerting illusions of sunken ruins. Castles filled only with fishes, turrets pulled down to make playgrounds for otters. Anna let the kayak drift down the sheltered channel beside Porter’s Island. Shipping her paddles, she ate a lunch of tortillas and beans.