Monday 15 January 2018

City Without Stars by Tim Baker @TimBakerWrites #BlogTour @FaberBooks @laurennicoll_ #CityWithoutStars

The only thing more dangerous than the cartels is the truth...
In Ciudad Real, Mexico, a deadly war between rival cartels is erupting, and hundreds of female sweat-shop workers are being murdered. As his police superiors start shutting down his investigation, Fuentes suspects most of his colleagues are on the payroll of narco kingpin, El Santo.
Meanwhile, despairing union activist, Pilar, decides to take social justice into her own hands. But if she wants to stop the killings, she's going to have to ignore all her instincts and accept the help of Fuentes. When the name of Mexico's saintly orphan rescuer, Padre Márcio, keeps resurfacing, Pilar and Fuentes begin to realise how deep the cover-up goes.

  • Paperback: 432 pages
  • Publisher: Faber & Faber; Main edition (18 Jan. 2018)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 057133833X
  • ISBN-13: 978-0571338337

Welcome to the Blog Tour for City Without Stars by Tim Baker, published in paperback by Faber & Faber on 18 January 2017.

I'm delighted to share an extract from the book, here on Random Things today:

It arrives with the storm, approaching floodlights bruising the desert night. Yellow dogs raise their heads, their eyes glittering then going black with the passing lights. The Lincoln Navigator blasts across the wasteland, impaled plastic rustling from its passage, frantic to escape the snare of barbed wire.
The shriek of braking tires sends the dogs scattering into shadows. Trash circles in anxious eddies then disappears with the headlamps. The animals quiver in the sudden silence, paw-ing the ground, greedy and afraid.
Two men get out, silhouetted against desert hills that tremble with the nervous kick of lightning. They open the cargo hatch and heave something into the darkness. There is the crash of cans spilling.
Doors slam shut and the car pulls away.
The dogs nose the storm- crumpled air then cautiously re-emerge, padding silently towards the whisper of settling dust.

Sunlight forces its way through the grime of the windows, dis-turbing a man in his sleep. His arm scouts for a companion, but finds only an empty pillow which he gathers close to his face.
A shower runs in the adjoining bathroom, steam escaping through the open door, examining the detritus of the night be-fore: an empty bottle of tequila, a crowded ashtray; the silver foil of a torn condom pouch.
Hotel rooms.
Contained universes.
Hidden histories for everyone except the people caught within them. The man on the bed is the past. The woman in the shower is the future.
Pilar soaps her black pubic hair, the hot water running out. She turns it off to build up the pressure of the cold jet, tensing her muscles under its challenge; feeling alive again.
Another morning.
Another chance to make things right.

Tim Baker - photo by Colin Englert
Born in Sydney, Tim Baker lived in Rome and Madrid before moving to Paris, where he wrote about jazz.

He has worked on film projects in India, China, Mexico, Brazil and Australia, and currently lives in the South of France with his wife, their son, and two rescue animals, a god and a cat.

His debut novel, Fever City, was published in 2016 and went on to be shortlisted for the CWA's John Creasey New Blood Dagger award and nominated for the Private Eye Writers of America's 2017 Shamus Award.

Follow him on Twitter @TimBakerWrites

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