Not often do you find me saying, “Holy Crap!” and I mean this in a good way. This book is mind blowing. The best way to explain The Artisan is to include an excerpt. Read the brilliance for yourself below. (after the reviews)
“Bailey deftly mixes the creep factor with subtle humor and a break-neck pace to keep the reader guessing—and gasping—at every turn.” ~ Rabbit Hole Reviews - A New Series to Adore ~ by Brian Kaufman
But first - From the book description: Warning: This thriller novel is filled with instances of dark and irreverent humor and purposefully pokes fun at things that are generally taken seriously.
Artisan is a skillfully written tale of intrigue, espionage, science and warfare. I love the many twists and turns of the plot in this book! Dr Rafaela is a strong heroine who is caught in a tug of war between agencies while being pursued by the elite criminal masterminds who seek to utilize her unique skills.
~ Review by Cherry Keal ~ An Artful Masterpiece!!
Excerpt - Chapter One Kindle Location pp. 5-7
Who knew being kidnapped could become so tedious?
Rafaela let out a long, even sigh. Biting into the fleshy part of her bottom lip, she looked down at the crumpled body of her would-be abductor and kicked him in the head. As her keen eyes examined the now helpless man, she heard a sound. Dropping smoothly into a catlike crouch, she held her breath and listened.
One second.
Two seconds.
Nothing.
Still cautious, she kept her arms at her sides, peered over her rental car, and pivoted to peek through the smudged windows of the beat-up silver Subaru parked next to her. She stood in one lithe movement, exhaled, and scanned the icy Detroit airport parking deck.
Completing this task with the efficiency of one who’s accustomed to being both predator and prey , she acknowledged that she was safe and alone. Now relaxed, she returned to examining her assailant. She leaned over the man and rolled her eyes like a woman forced to repeat an everyday household chore out of necessity.
Hmm, he would almost be a perfect specimen if it weren’t for his rather weak chin. The strong smell of his lime-scented cologne found her nose. She moved back a few steps. Observing him from a slight distance, an idea occurred to her, causing her lips to part into a graceful smile.
Opening her silk-lined jacket to the cold April air, she quickly located surgical gloves and guided them over her diminutive hands. Once protected, her nimble fingers proceeded to pat down the man’s voguish, black blazer. She plucked out his passport and other pieces of identification, read them with an uninterested expression, and with an incredulous snort, tossed them aside.
Sliding her phone from its snug inner pocket, she clicked on the recorder app and lifted one of the man’s eyelids . “Dr. Rafaela Ramos, Subject K465: Blond hair, light blue eyes. Appears to be I1— Viking dominant, with strains of I2a— Danish and Pre-Celtic—I2b.”
With a mischievous gleam in her eyes, Rafaela loosened the man’s ponytail. Carefully avoiding the three inch, dyed black strip in the front, she thrust her tweezers deep into his roots and greedily yanked out a sizable hair sample. She wound these strands into an efficient loop and placed them into a small plastic bag before tucking them into her right breast pocket.
Next, she cradled the head of her subject in one hand, and with the other, clicked her recorder back on. “Response to gas inhalant—”
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