Count Luna
Author: Lernet-Holenia, Alexander
ISBN: 9780241649541
Publisher: Penguin UK
Year First Published: 2024
Pages: 160
Dimensions: 196mm x 129mm x 10mm
Format: Paperback / softback
Description:
A deliciously deranged thriller about supernatural vengeance and postwar guilt, by one of Austria's most celebrated writers
Alexander Jessiersky, Austrian aristocrat and shipping magnate, finds the Nazis distasteful - but in war and in business, distaste can lead to negligence. When Jessiersky's board of directors sends his mysterious neighbour Count Luna to a concentration camp on trumped-up charges in order to seize his land, Jessiersky can't shake the feeling that Count Luna blames him - and, after the war ends, that Count Luna will have his revenge. So begins a wild, weird and witty cat-and-mouse chase through windswept moors, shadow-filled houses and, eventually, the catacombs of Rome, as an increasingly paranoid Jessiersky asks himself- who is Count Luna? Where is he hiding? And will he stop at nothing - not even the edges of the plausible and canny - to exact his bloody venegance?
ISBN: 9780241649541
Publisher: Penguin UK
Year First Published: 2024
Pages: 160
Dimensions: 196mm x 129mm x 10mm
Format: Paperback / softback
Description:
A deliciously deranged thriller about supernatural vengeance and postwar guilt, by one of Austria's most celebrated writers
Alexander Jessiersky, Austrian aristocrat and shipping magnate, finds the Nazis distasteful - but in war and in business, distaste can lead to negligence. When Jessiersky's board of directors sends his mysterious neighbour Count Luna to a concentration camp on trumped-up charges in order to seize his land, Jessiersky can't shake the feeling that Count Luna blames him - and, after the war ends, that Count Luna will have his revenge. So begins a wild, weird and witty cat-and-mouse chase through windswept moors, shadow-filled houses and, eventually, the catacombs of Rome, as an increasingly paranoid Jessiersky asks himself- who is Count Luna? Where is he hiding? And will he stop at nothing - not even the edges of the plausible and canny - to exact his bloody venegance?
