Difference between revisions of "The Lady Lost Her Head"
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==Book Description== | ==Book Description== | ||
| + | Martin Frost was having a bad dream...a dream in which he was parched with thirst, and wandering alone in a celestial mansion searching for water. A golden faucet promised relief. He turned it on, and the faucet dripped blood! | ||
| + | He awakened, trying to adjust his mind to the realities of everyday living and the job awaiting him at Sphinx Studios, comic book publishers. He raised his hand...and the dream had gotton out of control. For his hand was bloody, and in Martin's bedroom lay the beheaded body of Laverne Richardson, his employer's wife. | ||
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| + | Martin's frantic flight to escape the arrest and conviction which would inevitably have followed his dicovery, his panicky attempts to prove someone else guilty and himself innocent, took him over New York's rooftops and through the subterranean mazes of its subways, from the elegant environs of Central Park to the dusky ateliers of Greenwich Village. | ||
| + | |||
| + | And still he fled, at once pursued and pursuer, quarry and nemesis. | ||
==Cover Variation (By Release Date)== | ==Cover Variation (By Release Date)== | ||
Latest revision as of 07:29, 11 May 2014
| By Manning Lee Stokes | |
| Publisher | Harlequin Romance #432 |
| Release Month | 1958 (US) |
| Harlequin Romance Series # | |
| Preceded by | The Silent Valley |
| Followed by | Because Of Doctor Danville |
- Author: Manning Lee Stokes
- Publisher: Harlequin Romance #432
- Year: 1958
Book Description
Martin Frost was having a bad dream...a dream in which he was parched with thirst, and wandering alone in a celestial mansion searching for water. A golden faucet promised relief. He turned it on, and the faucet dripped blood!
He awakened, trying to adjust his mind to the realities of everyday living and the job awaiting him at Sphinx Studios, comic book publishers. He raised his hand...and the dream had gotton out of control. For his hand was bloody, and in Martin's bedroom lay the beheaded body of Laverne Richardson, his employer's wife.
Martin's frantic flight to escape the arrest and conviction which would inevitably have followed his dicovery, his panicky attempts to prove someone else guilty and himself innocent, took him over New York's rooftops and through the subterranean mazes of its subways, from the elegant environs of Central Park to the dusky ateliers of Greenwich Village.
And still he fled, at once pursued and pursuer, quarry and nemesis.
