Along Came a Spider (Alex Cross)
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Product Description<br/><br/><br/>Alex Cross, a Washington, D.C. police detective, becomes caught up in a kidnapping case that may involve a schizophrenic psychopath.<br/><br/><br/>About the Author<br/><br/><br/>James B. Patterson (born March 22, 1947) is an award-winning American author. Formerly an advertising executive for J. W. Thompson in the early 1990s, Patterson came up with the slogan "Toys R Us Kid". Shortly after his success with Along Came A Spider he retired from the firm and devoted his time to writing. The novels featuring his character, Alex Cross, a black forensic psychologist formerly of the Washington, D.C. Police Department and Federal Bureau of Investigation, now working as a private psychologist and government consultant, are the most popular books among Patterson readers. James Patterson has been criticized by Stephen King, who called Patterson's books "dopey thrillers".[citation needed] Patterson shrugged off the comments, stating that he wants to be the "thrillingest thriller writer of all time".[citation needed] James Patterson has also been put as one of Forbes magazine's top 100 celebrities.<br/><br/><br/>Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.<br/><br/><br/>Along Came a Spider<br/><br/>By James Patterson<br/>Warner Adult<br/>Copyright © 2001<br/>James PattersonAll right reserved.<br/><br/>ISBN: 9781586211080<br/><br/><br/>Chapter OneEARLY ON THE MORNING of December 21, 1992, I was the picture of contentment on the sun porch of our house on 5th Street in Washington, D.C. The small, narrow room was cluttered with mildewing winter coats, work boots, and wounded children's toys. I couldn't have cared less. This was home.<br/>I was playing Gershwin on our slightly out-of-tune, formerly grand piano. It was just past 5 A.M., and cold as a meat locker on the porch. I was prepared to sacrifice a little for "An American in Paris." <br/>The phone jangled in the kitchen. Maybe I'd won the D.C., or Virginia, or Maryland lottery and they'd forgotten to call the night before. I play all three games of misfortune regularly. <br/>"Nana? Can you get that?" I called from the porch. <br/>"It's for you. You might as well get it yourself," my testy grandmother called back. "No sense me gettin' up, too. No sense means nonsense in my dictionary." <br/>That's not exactly what was said, but it went something like that. It always does. <br/>I hobbled into the kitchen, sidestepping more toys on morning-stiff legs. I was thirty-eight at the time. As the saying goes, if I'd known I was going to live that long, I would have taken better care of myself. <br/>The call turned out to be from my partner in crime, John Sampson. Sampson knew I'd be up. Sampson knows me better than my own kids. <br/>"Mornin', brown sugar. You up, aren't you?" he said. No other I.D. was necessary. Sampson and I have been best friends since we were nine years old and took up shoplifting at Park's Corner Variety store near the projects. At the time, we had no idea that old Park would have shot us dead over a pilfered pack of Chesterfields. Nana Mama would have done even worse to us if she'd known about our crime spree. <br/>"If I wasn't up, I am now," I said into the phone receiver. "Tell me something good." <br/>"There's been another murder. Looks like our boy again," Sampson said. "They're waitin' on us. Half the free world's there already." <br/>"It's too early in the morning to see the meat wagon," I muttered. I could feel my stomach rolling. This wasn't the way I wanted the day to start. "S-t. F-k me." <br/>Nana Mama looked up from her steaming tea and runny eggs. She shot me one of her sanctimonious, lady-of-the-house looks. She was already dressed for school, where she still does volunteer work at seventy-nine. Sampson continued to give me gory details about the day's first homicides. <br/>"Watch your language, Alex," Nana said. "Please watch your language so long as you're planning to live in this house." <br/>"I'll be there in about ten minutes," I told Sampson. "I own this house," I said to Nana. <br/>She groaned as if she were hearing that terrible news for the first time. <br/>"There's be
Along Came a Spider (Alex Cross) Patterson, James
Details
Product Description<br/><br/><br/>Alex Cross, a Washington, D.C. police detective, becomes caught up in a kidnapping case that may involve a schizophrenic psychopath.<br/><br/><br/>About the Author<br/><br/><br/>James B. Patterson (born March 22, 1947) is an award-winning American author. Formerly an advertising executive for J. W. Thompson in the early 1990s, Patterson came up with the slogan "Toys R Us Kid". Shortly after his success with Along Came A Spider he retired from the firm and devoted his time to writing. The novels featuring his character, Alex Cross, a black forensic psychologist formerly of the Washington, D.C. Police Department and Federal Bureau of Investigation, now working as a private psychologist and government consultant, are the most popular books among Patterson readers. James Patterson has been criticized by Stephen King, who called Patterson's books "dopey thrillers".[citation needed] Patterson shrugged off the comments, stating that he wants to be the "thrillingest thriller writer of all time".[citation needed] James Patterson has also been put as one of Forbes magazine's top 100 celebrities.<br/><br/><br/>Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.<br/><br/><br/>Along Came a Spider<br/><br/>By James Patterson<br/>Warner Adult<br/>Copyright © 2001<br/>James PattersonAll right reserved.<br/><br/>ISBN: 9781586211080<br/><br/><br/>Chapter OneEARLY ON THE MORNING of December 21, 1992, I was the picture of contentment on the sun porch of our house on 5th Street in Washington, D.C. The small, narrow room was cluttered with mildewing winter coats, work boots, and wounded children's toys. I couldn't have cared less. This was home.<br/>I was playing Gershwin on our slightly out-of-tune, formerly grand piano. It was just past 5 A.M., and cold as a meat locker on the porch. I was prepared to sacrifice a little for "An American in Paris." <br/>The phone jangled in the kitchen. Maybe I'd won the D.C., or Virginia, or Maryland lottery and they'd forgotten to call the night before. I play all three games of misfortune regularly. <br/>"Nana? Can you get that?" I called from the porch. <br/>"It's for you. You might as well get it yourself," my testy grandmother called back. "No sense me gettin' up, too. No sense means nonsense in my dictionary." <br/>That's not exactly what was said, but it went something like that. It always does. <br/>I hobbled into the kitchen, sidestepping more toys on morning-stiff legs. I was thirty-eight at the time. As the saying goes, if I'd known I was going to live that long, I would have taken better care of myself. <br/>The call turned out to be from my partner in crime, John Sampson. Sampson knew I'd be up. Sampson knows me better than my own kids. <br/>"Mornin', brown sugar. You up, aren't you?" he said. No other I.D. was necessary. Sampson and I have been best friends since we were nine years old and took up shoplifting at Park's Corner Variety store near the projects. At the time, we had no idea that old Park would have shot us dead over a pilfered pack of Chesterfields. Nana Mama would have done even worse to us if she'd known about our crime spree. <br/>"If I wasn't up, I am now," I said into the phone receiver. "Tell me something good." <br/>"There's been another murder. Looks like our boy again," Sampson said. "They're waitin' on us. Half the free world's there already." <br/>"It's too early in the morning to see the meat wagon," I muttered. I could feel my stomach rolling. This wasn't the way I wanted the day to start. "S-t. F-k me." <br/>Nana Mama looked up from her steaming tea and runny eggs. She shot me one of her sanctimonious, lady-of-the-house looks. She was already dressed for school, where she still does volunteer work at seventy-nine. Sampson continued to give me gory details about the day's first homicides. <br/>"Watch your language, Alex," Nana said. "Please watch your language so long as you're planning to live in this house." <br/>"I'll be there in about ten minutes," I told Sampson. "I own this house," I said to Nana. <br/>She groaned as if she were hearing that terrible news for the first time. <br/>"There's be