A special signed limited edition of the riveting new courtroom thriller from #1 New York Times bestselling author Michael Connelly: Lincoln Lawyer Mickey Haller defends a murder case in which the victim was his former client. Is Mickey to blame?
Mickey Haller gets the text, "Call me ASAP - 187," and the California penal code for murder immediately gets his attention. When he learns that the victim was a prostitute he once represented and thought he had rescued, he knows there is no way he'd let this one go. He soon finds out that she had been back in LA and back in the life. Far from saving her, Mickey may have been the one who put her in danger.
Mickey must follow his gut instinct directly into a dark, dangerous world to get justice for both of his clients, living and dead. As he faces the "gods of guilt"-the jurors who will ultimately deliver the verdict in court-he's forced to struggle with his personal demons for a shot at his own redemption. THE GODS OF GUILT shows once again why "Michael Connelly excels, easily surpassing John Grisham in the building of courtroom suspense" (Los Angeles Times).
An Amazon Best Book of the Month, December 2013: What distinguishes Connelly's Lincoln Lawyer books from the average legal thriller (in the same way his Harry Bosch series transcends "cop story") is the complicated likeability of his flawed hero, Mickey Haller, a criminal defense lawyer who works mostly from the backseat of a chauffeured Lincoln Town Car. In The Gods of Guilt, Haller agrees to defend a former client's pimp on a murder charge, and his messy past comes back to taunt him--an ideal introduction to Haller for newcomers, and catnip for fans. As a former newspaper court reporter, I've always appreciated Connelly's attention to the messy particulars of the legal system, and his ability to convey real courtroom drama, the humanity and inanity of bringing criminals to justice--or not. (The title refers to the imperfect judgment of a jury.) Like his peers, Laura Lippman and George Pelecanos, Connelly writes crime fiction verging subversively on literature, and Haller is becoming an increasingly complex literary figure, cruising LA's darkest corners in a style that feels like a modern twist on Chinatown. (Think Clint Eastwood-Dirty Harry-San Francisco, but in LA, and without the big guns and the unresolved anger.) Incredibly, Connelly just keeps getting better. --Neal Thompson