Every once in a while, I run across something like this in a novel that makes me laugh right out loud. Which is odd, especially when the book is a thriller/mystery, isn’t it?

This example is actually really quite dark, but I think you’ll get at least a chuckle. We live in such very strange membership-site, online-password times don’t you think? Final note: For anyone currently living in the twilight gray murkiness of ‘uhhh….what’s my niche?’ this may just be of help.

From page 2 of David Baldacci’s The Collectors which sits tempting me in the afternoon sun:

“Seagraves could actually buy all that he needed on an Internet site that required a carefully guarded password. It was akin to a Macy’s department store for criminals, sometimes dubbed by its felonious clientele as “EvilBay.”

There, one could purchase everything from first-rate ID packs and stolen credit card numbers to the services of professional hit men, or sterilized weapons if you were inclined to commit the murder yourself.

He usually obtained the necessary materials from a dealer who had a 99 percent approval rating from his customers and a money-back guarantee. Even killers liked to go with quality.”

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