#BlogTour ~ I Kill by Lex Lander #Extract



Racked by guilt over his accidental killing of a young Italian girl, contract killer André Warner has effectively retired himself from his ‘profession’ and taken to drink and other palliatives, while sinking slowly into a mire of depression.

A contract in Tangier to assassinate an Arab drug trafficker lures him out of retirement and self-pity. Soon after his arrival he encounters attractive American widow, Clair Power, and her precocious sixteen year-old daughter, Lizzy, who bears such a striking resemblance to the girl Warner killed that his waning anguish is instantly rekindled. He attempts to assuage it by embarking on a fling with Clair which brings him into conflict with a mysterious Dutchman named Rik de Bruin, who also appears to have designs on her.

The contract on the drug merchant is cancelled with no explanation given, but Warner, now seriously involved with Clair, is more relieved than disappointed. Their budding romance is not destined to blossom however. Clair disappears and Warner is landed with the role of de facto guardian to Lizzy.

In tracking down Clair, Warner crosses a line that brings him into conflict with the local police and he is deported from Tangier with a distraught Lizzy in tow. Back at his Andorra villa she slowly recovers from her mother’s disappearance and launches an assault on Warner’s good intentions. Her increasingly provocative behavior disturbs yet excites him, and when Rik de Bruin pitches up in Andorra and begins to take an interest in Lizzy too, Warner gets possessive the only way he knows.

Too late, alas, to save Lizzy from an unspeakable fate.
Purchase I Kill  Here

About Lex Lander
British-born thriller writer Lex Lander was raised in France, earned his degree in French and Italian in New Zealand and currently lives in Montreal. Lander is the author of political thriller ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER JACKAL, published by Kaybec in 2013. Vol III in the series, THE MAN WHO HUNTED HIMSELF, will be published by Kaybec in the autumn. The first two volumes in the André Warner series, END AS AN ASSASSIN and I KILL by Lex Lander (published by Kaybec 1st May 2016) are available to buy online from retailers including amazon.co.uk and all good bookstores including WHSmiths.

Kaybec Publishing


Clair, the new love in Warner’s life, is abducted by a trio of Arabs. Warner witnesses the event by chance and attempts to intervene.

A yell from Lizzy made me forget about flying bullets long enough to peer around the wing. The Beemer was still in place, smoke dribbling from its twin tailpipes. Inside, heads bobbed frantically. Clair wasn’t making it easy for the bastards. Good for her. The gun-toting Arab was stooping over Lizzy whose bare legs were kicking at him, holding him at bay. There might never be a better opportunity. I stood up and wrenched open the trunk. As I dragged the spare wheel aside there came the familiar popping cork sound, coinciding with the appearance of a star-shaped tear in the raised trunk lid. Though I wasn’t to know it then, I owed his poor aim to a well-directed kick in the crotch from Lizzy. Next time he won’t miss, I told myself, hauling the spare out of its recess.

I scooped up the Beretta and dropped flat the very instant the Arab fired again. Another miraculous miss slammed into the Fiat. By then I was in a ‘go’ situation. Pistol shooting from a prone position was not my forté, but the Beretta’s firepower was such that I could afford to be prodigal with my ammunition. I never got the chance: the Arab’s last bullet had done more than just perforate the Fiat’s bodywork. I smelled the gas fumes a second or so before the car went up in a plume of flame, throwing out a concussion that would have blown me away like a feather in a hurricane had I been upright. As it was I suffered only a light grilling to the back of my neck and legs from the initial fireball that enveloped me. A frantic scramble took me away from the heat and the flames and the choking black smoke. Somewhat the worse for wear, but ready to go to work.

The Arab was unprepared for my emergence alive from the inferno. He was staring at the blazing Fiat, perhaps admiring his handiwork. I shot him as his gaze shifted from the car to me. I had actually drawn a bead on his chest, that most substantial part of the human frame that makes it the sniper’s favourite target, but failed to compensate for the muzzle jump when on automatic fire. As a result, my three rounds ripped through his neck to exit in a geyser of blood. His collapse was instant, soundless, and total. And satisfying.


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