Make Me by Lee Child

Started it today. Super excited. Can't possibly blog about anything else.

A quick excerpt to show you why I love Reacher:

(...)
At which point a woman stepped out of the shadows. 

She came toward him with a distinctive burst of energy, two fast paces, eager, like she was pleased to see him. Her body language was all about relief. 

Then it wasn't. Then it was all about disappointment. She stopped dead, and she said, "Oh." 

She was Asian. But not petite. Five-nine, maybe, or even five-ten. And built to match. Not a bone in sight. No kind of a willowy waif. She was about forty, Reacher guessed, with black hair worn long, with jeans and a T shirt under a short cotton coat. She had lace-up shoes on her feet. 

He said, "Good evening, ma'am." 

She was looking past his shoulder. 

He said, "I'm the only passenger." 

She looked him in the eye. 

He said, "No one else got out of the train. So I guess your friend isn't coming." 

"My friend?" she said. A neutral kind of accent. Regular American. The kind he heard everywhere. 

He said, "Why else would a person be here, except to meet the train? No point in coming otherwise. I guess normally there would be nothing to see at midnight." 

She didn't answer. 

He said, "Don't tell me you've been waiting here since seven o'clock." 

"I didn't know the train was late," she said. "There's no cell signal here. And no one from the railroad, to tell you anything. And I guess the Pony Express is out sick today." 

"He wasn't in my car. Or the next two, either." 

"Who wasn't?" 

"Your friend." 

"You don't know what he looks like." 

"He's a big guy," Reacher said. "That's why you jumped out when you saw me. You thought I was him. For a second, anyway. And there were no big guys in my car. Or the next two."