Alex Prévost—kidnapped, savagely beaten, suspended from the ceiling of an abandoned warehouse in a tiny wooden cage—is running out of time. Her abductor appears to want only to watch her die. Will hunger, thirst, or the rats get her first?
Apart from a shaky eyewitness report of the abduction, Police Commandant Camille Verhoeven has nothing to go on: no suspect, no leads, and no family or friends anxious to find a missing loved one. The diminutive and brilliant detective knows from bitter experience the urgency of finding the missing woman as quickly as possible—but first he must understand more about her.
As he uncovers the details of the young woman’s singular history, Camille is forced to acknowledge that the person he seeks is no ordinary victim. She is beautiful, yes, but also extremely tough and resourceful. Before long, saving Alex’s life will be the least of Commandant Verhoeven’s considerable challenges.
Wow! What a thrilling ride Lamaitre took me on with Alex! The very first pages grabbed my attention and didn't let go until the final pages were read. It was not only suspenseful, but only emotionally impacting. I empathized with Alex in the beginning, then I despised her and then I empathized with her again. I was shocked with some of her decisions yet I also cheered for her.
Camille, the investigator, was a great character as well. Given a big case after being out of the loop since his wife was murdered was, at first, a conundrum for him. But eventually, it became just what he needed to get closure in that chapter of his life. A very intelligent man who surprised me on many levels.
Alex is not only a thrilling suspense, it also packs a punch with it's gritty writing and no-nonsense characters. The plot pivots many times, taking the reader on a roller-roaster of a ride that leaves one breathless; with fear, shock, hope and more. I will be reading more of this author's work in the near future.
*I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. Wendy
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The old grey donkey, Eeyore stood by himself in a thistly corner of the Forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, "Why?" and sometimes he thought, "Wherefore?" and sometimes he thought, "Inasmuch as which?" and sometimes he didn't quite know what he was thinking about.
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