A secret society gathers certain items that were stolen from a geographer’s ancient library, meanwhile a journalist in a country paper get increasingly serious hints that something’s not quite right with a professor’s death.
The alternation of the exotic and the mundane sets up a compelling rhythm, but then the exotic parts keeps ending in the exact some way – some rube in an far off locale gets bumped off. At first I couldn’t put it down, then the repetition degenerated the story. By the end I was completely thrown off the carnival ride, waiting for it to be over. All the characters sound the same (cheesy banter), except for the exotic parts, but still I kept reading. So something was keeping me going. The story never tied together, however. The damsel in distress wasn’t in that much distress –in the end, she turns into Nosferatu. The story ends with the crack assassin getting outpunched by the nerdy hero. (?)
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