Action & Adventure
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Hush-Hush (A Stone Barrington Novel)
Stone Barrington faces down a rival with cutting-edge tactics in this heart-racing thriller from the #1 New York Times bestselling author.
Stone Barrington is settling in for some downtime in New York City when an anonymous enemy makes himself known. This nameless foe's threats hit close to home, and before Stone can retaliate, the fearsome messages turn into very real consequences.
With the help of old friends--and a lovely new tech-savvy acquaintance--Stone sets out to unravel the fatal agenda. But as the web of adversaries expands, Stone realizes that no place is safe, and he'll have to flush out the mastermind before he and those closest to him are silenced for good....
Stone Barrington is settling in for some downtime in New York City when an anonymous enemy makes himself known. This nameless foe's threats hit close to home, and before Stone can retaliate, the fearsome messages turn into very real consequences.
With the help of old friends--and a lovely new tech-savvy acquaintance--Stone sets out to unravel the fatal agenda. But as the web of adversaries expands, Stone realizes that no place is safe, and he'll have to flush out the mastermind before he and those closest to him are silenced for good....
Editorial Reviews
"Prime escapism from a master of the genre."-Booklist
Readers Top Reviews
"Cal"Alexander Simps
Those that enjoy Barrington novels will enjoy the fast pace easy read. Plenty of stupid in this novel that you will question because it makes no sense. Nonetheless it’s typical Barrington of late and moves along. You always feel like you are right there with them. The why and the how could that be questions of the reader are not answered. These folk are always dining at home in tuxedos and gowns. Hello it’s 2021 and Ralph Lauren is Stuart’s buddy. Oy
Old n wise
Always enjoy reading about Stone and the gang....this one well not your best.....good read a page turner by all means, but enough about the Russians ....
besosKindle
I have read all the Stone Barrington books and felt this was the worst. The language was different than previous books in this series. Where were Dino and Viv barely made any scenes. Only one restaurant scene @ their beloved NYC restaurants. Not much business for Woodmen and Weld, and no mention of Arrington or the kids. A lot more killing people for no apparent reason, cursing in first chapter, and the ending didn’t tie anything together the book just stopped. I would give 2 1/2 stars just because I love Stone and Dino but this was not the same.
Don Roach
Favorite characters get caught up in action that keeps compounding. Stone relys on his closest friends to keep the balance tipping back in their favor while strategizing on how not to lose anybody's head. In dealing with ruthless evils, he finds his desire to keep his loved ones safe empowering. Very hard to put this book aside for most any reason.
Nan L. Thompson
I could hardly wait until this book was published. Downloaded it right away on my Kindle and read it almost straight through. It is just my kind of book - romance, intrigue and some really nasty bad guys. Loved Ed Rawls and his participation - don't hesitate to buy this book - you will enjoy every minute of it.
Short Excerpt Teaser
1
Stone Barrington awoke slowly on a Sunday morning. The evening before had been spent with his good friend Dino Bacchetti, and had involved good beef, good wine, and various spirits before and after dinner. Stone was alone in his bed, which was not his preference.
He was alone in his house, too, he recalled, since he had given his cook and housekeeper, Helene, and her husband, Fred Flicker, the weekend off. There was, he remembered, a housemaid stationed in the kitchen to meet his culinary needs. He picked up the phone and dialed an extension.
"Yes, sir?" an accented voice responded. "This is Gilia."
Gilia was Greek, being one of a number of Helene's nieces who occasionally landed in his employ.
"Breakfast," he said huskily.
"Your usual, sir?" she asked.
"Yes, thank you."
"Only a little minutes," she replied.
"Good." He hung up.
Gilia had been taught well. The eggs were soft and creamy and properly salted, the sausages were tender and juicy, and his WolfermanÕs English muffin was perfectly toasted and buttered. By the time he had wolfed it all down, he felt restored. He was searching for an old movie to watch on TV and had just selected a John Wayne western, John FordÕs Rio Grande, when his cell phone rang-the secure one. He picked it up. ÒSpeak,Ó he said. It was likely to be one of two people on the line; he hoped it was the tender gender one.
"What kind of greeting is that?" she asked.
"A cautious one," Stone replied. "I was hoping it was you and not Lance." Lance Cabot was the director of Central Intelligence, for whom Stone served as a special adviser. The woman on the line was the President of the United States, Holly Barker, with whom Stone had had an affectionate relationship for many years, off and on.
"I was thinking of coming to New York," she said. "When would be convenient for you?"
"How about right this minute?"
"You understand there are arrangements to be made."
"I thought we had that all ironed out and given a code name, 'Turtle Bay.'" That was the name of the neighborhood surrounding a private garden on which his house was located. "All you have to do is dial a number, speak those words, and you'll be here in time for lunch."
"I know that's supposed to be how it works," she said, "but I've never actually used it. And things have a way of going awry when their operation depends on the workings of the federal government."
"Oh, ye of little faith," Stone said, reprovingly.
"My faith in my government, or lack of same, is based on long experience."
"But your experience at the top of it is brief," he replied. "Try it and see."
"Hang," she said, picking up another phone and dialing an extension. She held the other phone so he could hear the conversation.
"Yes, Madam President," a male voice said after a single ring.
"Execute Turtle Bay," she said.
"Your helicopter will arrive in thirty minutes," he replied. "ETA, East Side Heliport in one hour and forty-two minutes. Weather is favorable all the way. A three-car SUV group will greet and transport you to your destination."
"Excellent," she said, and hung up. "You get that?"
"I did. Sounds as if it should work as planned," he said. "Do you want to go out for dinner?"
"You know we can't appear in a New York restaurant without causing a press riot."
"Then I'll have you all to myself."
"You could invite the Bacchettis," she replied.
"Done."
"I'll look forward to that. Tell Viv I'm dressing to kill. See you soon."
Stone looked forward to it as well. He called another number.
"Bacchetti," a gruff voice replied.
"Which one?"
"The one who didn't have to go through menopause."
"Holly's on her way. Dinner here this evening?"
"Viv will want to know what we're wearing."
"You and I are wearing tuxedos. Tell Viv to let her imagination run wild."
"I can't do that. It would mean an all-afternoon shopping trip and a big dent in her credit card."
"C'est la guerre, pal. Six-thirty for drinks." He hung up. Then, as he did, he remembered that Helene was away for the weekend, and he was not cooking in a tuxedo, or out of one, for that matter. He called Fred's cell phone.
"Yes, sir?"
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Fred," Stone said, "but our friend Holly is coming to dinner, as well as the Bacchettis, and I don't know if Gilia can handle that."
"One moment, sir." H...
Stone Barrington awoke slowly on a Sunday morning. The evening before had been spent with his good friend Dino Bacchetti, and had involved good beef, good wine, and various spirits before and after dinner. Stone was alone in his bed, which was not his preference.
He was alone in his house, too, he recalled, since he had given his cook and housekeeper, Helene, and her husband, Fred Flicker, the weekend off. There was, he remembered, a housemaid stationed in the kitchen to meet his culinary needs. He picked up the phone and dialed an extension.
"Yes, sir?" an accented voice responded. "This is Gilia."
Gilia was Greek, being one of a number of Helene's nieces who occasionally landed in his employ.
"Breakfast," he said huskily.
"Your usual, sir?" she asked.
"Yes, thank you."
"Only a little minutes," she replied.
"Good." He hung up.
Gilia had been taught well. The eggs were soft and creamy and properly salted, the sausages were tender and juicy, and his WolfermanÕs English muffin was perfectly toasted and buttered. By the time he had wolfed it all down, he felt restored. He was searching for an old movie to watch on TV and had just selected a John Wayne western, John FordÕs Rio Grande, when his cell phone rang-the secure one. He picked it up. ÒSpeak,Ó he said. It was likely to be one of two people on the line; he hoped it was the tender gender one.
"What kind of greeting is that?" she asked.
"A cautious one," Stone replied. "I was hoping it was you and not Lance." Lance Cabot was the director of Central Intelligence, for whom Stone served as a special adviser. The woman on the line was the President of the United States, Holly Barker, with whom Stone had had an affectionate relationship for many years, off and on.
"I was thinking of coming to New York," she said. "When would be convenient for you?"
"How about right this minute?"
"You understand there are arrangements to be made."
"I thought we had that all ironed out and given a code name, 'Turtle Bay.'" That was the name of the neighborhood surrounding a private garden on which his house was located. "All you have to do is dial a number, speak those words, and you'll be here in time for lunch."
"I know that's supposed to be how it works," she said, "but I've never actually used it. And things have a way of going awry when their operation depends on the workings of the federal government."
"Oh, ye of little faith," Stone said, reprovingly.
"My faith in my government, or lack of same, is based on long experience."
"But your experience at the top of it is brief," he replied. "Try it and see."
"Hang," she said, picking up another phone and dialing an extension. She held the other phone so he could hear the conversation.
"Yes, Madam President," a male voice said after a single ring.
"Execute Turtle Bay," she said.
"Your helicopter will arrive in thirty minutes," he replied. "ETA, East Side Heliport in one hour and forty-two minutes. Weather is favorable all the way. A three-car SUV group will greet and transport you to your destination."
"Excellent," she said, and hung up. "You get that?"
"I did. Sounds as if it should work as planned," he said. "Do you want to go out for dinner?"
"You know we can't appear in a New York restaurant without causing a press riot."
"Then I'll have you all to myself."
"You could invite the Bacchettis," she replied.
"Done."
"I'll look forward to that. Tell Viv I'm dressing to kill. See you soon."
Stone looked forward to it as well. He called another number.
"Bacchetti," a gruff voice replied.
"Which one?"
"The one who didn't have to go through menopause."
"Holly's on her way. Dinner here this evening?"
"Viv will want to know what we're wearing."
"You and I are wearing tuxedos. Tell Viv to let her imagination run wild."
"I can't do that. It would mean an all-afternoon shopping trip and a big dent in her credit card."
"C'est la guerre, pal. Six-thirty for drinks." He hung up. Then, as he did, he remembered that Helene was away for the weekend, and he was not cooking in a tuxedo, or out of one, for that matter. He called Fred's cell phone.
"Yes, sir?"
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Fred," Stone said, "but our friend Holly is coming to dinner, as well as the Bacchettis, and I don't know if Gilia can handle that."
"One moment, sir." H...
