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Last Woman Standing

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Язык: Английский
Год издания: 2018 год
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      Last Woman Standing
Amy Gentry

‘A twisty and engrossing thriller that will keep you guessing until the very end.’Karin Slaughter, International Bestselling AuthorHumiliated by a man who held her careerin his hands, Dana Diaz’s life and reputation are in tatters.Drowning her sorrows one night in a bar, she getsspeaking to a stranger, Amanda – and finds that she, too,has a story to tell.Over a drink, Amanda proposes a plan.The women should take revenge on each other’s behalf.Stalking and tormenting the people that wronged themcarries a thrill – and one act of revenge soonleads to another. But while this may be an addictivegame for two, only onecan survive.WHO WILL BE THE LAST WOMAN STANDING?

AMY GENTRY is the author of Good as Gone, a New York Times Book Review Notable Book. She is also a book reviewer and essayist whose work has appeared in numerous outlets, including the Chicago Tribune, Salon, the Paris Review, the Los Angeles Review of Books, and the Austin Chronicle. She holds a PhD in English from the University of Chicago and lives in Austin, Texas.

Also by Amy Gentry (#)

Good as Gone

Copyright (#)

An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2019

Copyright © Amy Gentry 2019

Amy Gentry asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © January 2019 ISBN: 9780008215682

For AJZ, a very wise woman

Contents

Cover (#u1f59f06b-1FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)

About the Author (#u1f59f06b-2FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)

Also by Amy Gentry (#)

Title Page (#u1f59f06b-4FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)

Copyright (#)

Dedication (#u1f59f06b-6FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474)

Chapter 1 (#)

Chapter 2 (#)

Chapter 3 (#)

Chapter 4 (#)

Chapter 5 (#)

Chapter 6 (#)

Chapter 7 (#)

Chapter 8 (#)

Chapter 9 (#)

Chapter 10 (#)

Chapter 11 (#)

Chapter 12 (#)

Chapter 13 (#)

Chapter 14 (#)

Chapter 15 (#)

Chapter 16 (#)

Chapter 17 (#)

Chapter 18 (#)

Chapter 19 (#)

Chapter 20 (#)

Chapter 21 (#)

Chapter 22 (#)

Chapter 23 (#)

Chapter 24 (#)

Chapter 25 (#)

Chapter 26 (#)

Acknowledgements (#)

About the Publisher (#)

1 (#)

Next up, Daaaaana Diaz!”

A few hands clapped as I stepped up onto the wooden platform stage, picking my way around the PA system. Under the lights, I tugged my shirt hem away from the waistband of my jeans one last time, cleared a strand of dark brown hair from my lip-glossed smile, and palmed the mic, carefully unwrapping the cord from the stand. No point in losing two minutes wrestling it down to my level—five foot four in the four-inch heels I am rarely without onstage.

“Hello, everyone,” I said. “I’m Dana, and I will be your brown person for the evening.”

I waited for the uncomfortable snicker, but there was only the dim, offended pause of a bar in which the music had been turned off, followed by a hacking cough. I forged ahead.

“And don’t tell me to go back where I came from. Amarillo is the pits.” Silence again. I toyed with the mic stand. “Have we got anyone here from Amarillo tonight? No one?” There was no hoot. “It’s okay, I wouldn’t cop to it either if it wasn’t my job. Well, hobby.”

I’d been back in Austin a little over a year, performing as many open-mics and guest spots and showcases as I could force myself to show up for, and I’d earned my slot in the Nomad Third Thursday lineup fair and square. But nothing was landing lately, and I wasn’t sure why.

I pressed on. “There’s not a lot to do in Amarillo. I mean, the second-largest employer in town is a helium plant. When I was in high school, we used to hang out behind the Seven-Eleven and—” I mimed sucking on a Mylar balloon, then made my voice high and squeaky: “Hey, dude, stop bogarting the Happy Birthday from SpongeBob and Friends.”
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