Cover image for Dexter by design
Title:
Dexter by design
Author:
Lindsay, Jeffry P.
Personal Author:
Publication Information:
[Prince Frederick, Md.] : Recorded Books, [2009]
Physical Description:
9 audio discs (10 hr., 30 min.) : digital ; 4 3/4 in.
Summary:
Dexter, a forensic expert for the Miami Police Department, kills people in his spare time. However, he sees his killing as a benefit to society, because he only murders other killers that escape justice. After a relaxing honeymoon in Paris, a sense of normalcy has returned to Dexter's life. However, the discovery of a corpse reveals that there is a new serial killer in town, prompting Dexter to embark on another murderous escapade.
General Note:
Compact discs.

Unabridged.
Language:
English
Geographic Term:
Added Author:
ISBN:
9781440717208
Format :
Audiobook on CD

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Summary

Summary

Dexter by Design


Author Notes

Jeff Lindsay was born Jeffry P. Freundlich on July 14, 1952 in Miami, Florida. He graduated from Middlebury College in Vermont in 1975. He is best known for his novels about sociopathetic vigilante Dexter Morgan. The first book in the Dexter series, Darkly Dreaming Dexter, was published in 2004 and was the basis of the Showtime TV series Dexter. His other works include Tropical Depression: A Novel of Suspense, Dream Land: A Novel of the UFO Coverup, Time Blender and Dreamchild.

(Bowker Author Biography)


Reviews 3

Booklist Review

Dexter Morgan, the Miami police department blood-spatter expert and part-time executioner, is now a happily married man. Well . . . married, anyway. Happy is one of those emotions real human beings have, so Dexter doesn't really get the hang of it, what with him being a monster and all. Upon his return from his Paris honeymoon, he's confronted with a particularly inventive killer, and he realizes that he, Dexter, the killer who kills other killers, has a new mission. Dexter is a brilliant creation, a monster who walks like a man, a homicidal maniac who only kills people who deserve it, a simulacrum of a human being who has had to learn how to fake his way through the intricacies of human interaction. There is a popular television series about the character, but a TV show can't capture the nuances of Lindsay's writing, the subtleties of Dexter's delightfully deranged mind. ( It was truly heartwarming to realize that I had been missed, he tells us, and if only I had a heart, I am sure it would have been warmed. ) Like a lightly comic version of Hannibal Lecter, Dexter is a genuinely memorable, disturbingly compelling antihero.--Pitt, David Copyright 2009 Booklist


Publisher's Weekly Review

Lindsay doesn't always maintain the balance between farce and something more serious in his fourth thriller to feature Dexter Morgan (after Dexter in the Dark). As fans of the hit Showtime TV series know, Dexter is a blood-splatter analyst for the Miami PD as well as a serial killer who targets killers who've evaded justice. When two eviscerated corpses turn up on a beach, Dexter investigates, as does his sister, Deborah, a sergeant with his department, who suffers serious injury after she's stabbed by a suspect, Alex Doncevic. Convinced Deborah's assailant is the person also responsible for the bodies on the beach, Dexter eliminates Doncevic, only to find that he's taken an innocent life. To Dexter's further dismay, someone begins posting videos of Doncevic's murder on YouTube. While the darkly witty Lindsay deserves credit for continuing to make imaginative use of his original concept, a contrived resolution disappoints. (Sept.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved


Library Journal Review

This fourth entry in the Dexter series (after Dexter in the Dark) provides more of what our favorite killer's fans expect-plenty of descriptive gore, a clever murderer to match wits with Dexter, and abundant doses of dark humor. When his police-officer sister is stabbed during the course of a homicide investigation into corpses being posed artistically around Miami, Dexter's desire to protect his family-surprisingly-kicks in. But while Dexter hunts for his latest nemesis, the killer also turns the tables on our hero and goes on the offensive, leading to an inevitable clash. Dexter is funnier than ever, and the interactions he has with both his sister and the suspicious Sergeant Doakes offer plenty of opportunities for the humor to shine through. Verdict The story is pretty simple, and there are no real surprises, but that doesn't make Lindsay's latest any less enjoyable. This will no doubt be another best seller, and with good reason. Fans of both the books and the Showtime TV series will eat it up.-Craig Shufelt, Fort McMurray P.L., A.B. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.


Excerpts

Excerpts

ONE Pardonnez-moi, monsieur. Oe est la lune? Alors, mon ancien, la lune est ici, ouvre la Seine, enorme, rouge, et humide. Merci, mon ami, I see it now. Et actualment, name of a dog, it is a night for the moon, a night made just for the sharp pleasures of the moonlight, the dance macabre between Dexter of the Dark and some special friend. But merde alors! The moon is over la Seine? Dexter is in Paris! Quelle tragedie! The Dance is not possible, not in Paris! Here there is no way to find the special friend, no sheltering Miami night, no gentle welcoming ocean waters for the leftovers. Here there is only the taxis, the tourists, and that huge and lonely moon. And Rita, of course. Rita everywhere, fumbling with her phrase book and folding and unfolding dozens of maps and guidebooks and pamphlets, all promising perfect happiness and, miraculously, delivering it--to her. Only to her. Because her newly wedded Parisian bliss is strictly a solo act, and her newly acquired husband, former high priest of lunar levity, Dexter the Drastically Deferred, can only marvel at the moon and hold tightly to the impatiently twitching Dark Passenger and hope that all this happy insanity will end soon and send us back to the well-ordered normal life of catching and carving the other monsters. For Dexter is used to carving freely, with a neat and happy hand that now must merely clutch at Rita's while he marvels at the moon, savoring the irony of being on a Honeymoon, wherein all that is sweet and lunar is forbidden. And so, Paris. Dexter trudges meekly along in the wake of the Good Ship Rita, staring and nodding where these things are required and occasionally offering a sharp and witty comment, like, "Wow," and "Uh-huh," as Rita trammels through the pent-up lust for Paris that has surged in her all these many years and now, at last, has found consummation. But surely even Dexter is not immune to the legendary charms of the City of Light? Surely even he must behold the glory and feel some small synthetic twitch stirring in response, somewhere in the dark and empty pit where a soul should go? Can Dexter truly come to Paris and feel absolutely nothing? Of course not. Dexter feels plenty; Dexter feels tired, and bored. And Dexter feels slightly anxious to find someone to play with sometime soon. The sooner the better, to be perfectly honest, since for some reason Being Married seems to sharpen the appetites somewhat. But this is all part of the bargain, all part of what Dexter must do in order to do what Dexter does. In Paris, just like at home, Dexter must maintenez le disguisement. Even the worldly-wise French might pause and frown at the thought of a monster in their midst, an inhuman fiend who lives only to tumble the other monsters off the edge and into well-earned death. And Rita, in her new incarnation as blushing bride, is the perfect disguisement for all I truly am. No one could possibly imagine that a cold and empty killer would stumble meekly along behind such a perfect avatar of American tourism. Surely, not, mon frere. C'est impossible. For the moment, alas, tres impossible. There is no hope of slipping quietly away for a few hours of much-deserved recreation. Not here, where Dexter is not known and does not know the ways of the police. Never in a strange and foreign place, where the strict rules of the Harry Code do not apply. Harry was a Miami cop, and in Miami all that he spake was just as he ordained it to be. But Harry spake no French, and so the risk is far too high here, no matter how strongly the pulse of darkness may throb in the shadowy backseat. A shame, really, because the streets of Paris are made for lurking with sinister intent. They are narrow, dark, and possess no logical order that a reasonable person can detect. It's far too easy to imagine Dexter, wrapped in a cape and clutching a gleaming blade, sliding through these shadowed alleys with an urgent app Excerpted from Dexter by Design: A Novel by Jeff Lindsay All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.