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528 pages, Hardcover
First published June 1, 2015
Although her slaughterman father, Meir-Anschil Schecter, was never one to lavish affection on his daughters, he had made them banquets fit for kings. In recent times, however, Mende has scarcely touched meat herself, only ever sucking out the marrow of the chicken bones her children leave on their yontev plates on feast days. But now a terrible craving for meat has awakened within her, an uncontrollable desire for the taste of beef. A chasm opens up in her stomach and her head spins. Her mouth waters like the high seas, and she is so weak that she has to lean against the wall of the nearby synagogue. This will be her birthday present, it's a clear-cut decision. A mechayeh, what a treat.
It is not every day that one comes across three dead bodies, Jewish slaughter techniques, accusations against a belligerent military convoy and one large and terrifying woman, all of which are supposed to come together to form a consistent story. I'll be damned, thinks Novak. This country is losing its mind.
The moonlight is wrapped around the night like a tie, its beams sliding down a suit of darkness. A cool wind caresses the earth's curved back, which has grown limp beneath the weight of the day's heat, pleading for relief.
He has managed to prove yet again that his thick-headed deputy is incapable of thinking creatively, because, like a short blanket, Dodek's brain is destined to leave the essentials uncovered.