by Ray Rhamey
I came across this novel, Huntress Moon, in a list of books I could read for free as an Amazon Prime member. This thriller by Alexandra Sokoloff intrigued me enough to invest in Kindle Unlimited to read the rest of the 5-book set. So I thought I’d introduce her to you and recommend her novels.
She is a strong writer, and this series stars one of the most interesting protagonist/antagonists I’ve met, a woman who seems to be—but is not—a serial killer. The more I read her, the more I wanted. There’s a co-protagonist, an FBI agent, who is also a strong character in opposition to—and sometimes not—the heroine/villain. There’s a slight supernatural element, but Sokoloff makes it believable and necessary.
As is my tradition here at FtQ, following are the opening lines of the first chapter of Huntress Moon. I’m not polling this one, but I do encourage you to check this book and the series out. Solkoloff’s writing is of such a caliber that I’ve downloaded several of her other books to continue the fun. If you like a good thriller read, I recommend the Huntress series. One last note: interestingly, the fifth novel takes place in today’s time and includes the results of our last presidential election. One more thing: the primary theme of the series is the trafficking and sexual abuse of women, a topic of our times.
The city teems.
A bustle of busy people on the streets under towering buildings, cars climbing the vertical hills, working people traversing the corridors, energized by the cool ocean air off the gleaming, timeless Pacific.
There is much that is beautiful about San Francisco: the sun on the Bay, the expanses of bridges over the water, the pastel-painted Victorians with their gingerbread trim, the dreamy beaming people in the parks.
But here, as everywhere, is the darkness.
While tourists swarm the markets at Fisherman’s Wharf and eat chocolate at Ghirardelli Square and day trip to Alcatraz, the area formerly known as the Tenderloin swarms, too, with a different kind of activity. In the Tenderloin women and children are bought and sold, people are killed for money or drugs, the stench of urine and vomit and blood rises from the filthy sidewalks, the darkness of addiction and madness pervades.
The woman in black who walks through this flotsam is an anomaly. Too well dressed to be one of them, too clean to have business in this part of town.
She gets glances, of course, some surreptitious and curious, some longer predatory stares. Lone women don’t often walk this street except for money. But something about her keeps the flies away. The men she passes shift restlessly; a few of them even flinch from her.
You can read more here.
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