The Mosquito God

WASHINGTON, D.C., 1903 . . .

After twenty years, the French attempt to dig a Panama Canal is at last faltering, and President Theodore Roosevelt smells an opportunity. But before he can send in American gunboats, he'll need eyes and ears on the ground in Panama. But whose?

Roosevelt's Secretary of State, John Hay, schemes up the perfect solution. He'll ask two of his best young spies, Max Bellefonte and Hannah Black, to make a honeymoon trip to Panama. There they can observe and report back without ruffling any French feathers.

It'll be a dream come true.

Except, that is, for Hannah and Max. For one, they aren't married. For another, they're not even on speaking terms after their spectacularly messy breakup two years earlier.

But like it or not, the phony honeymooners are soon trapped together in Panama's steamy tangle of corruption, disease, and danger. There, they must confront the cruel and vindictive French boss, Henri Marquet . . . unravel the mystery of mosquito researcher Dr. Thomas Stillwell . . . and cross swords with Marquet's mistress, the beautiful, rare-bird-obsessed Claire André. Somehow, they'll have to survive it all.

But first—they'll have to survive each other.

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Praise for The Mosquito God

"The Mosquito God plunges readers into a high-stakes world where secrets, ambition, and survival collide. Robert Brighton delivers a sweeping tale that is as captivating as it is unforgettable." - Los Angeles Book Review

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"Rich with danger, romance, and political intrigue, The Mosquito God transforms one of history's greatest engineering feats into a pulse-pounding adventure. Fans of historical thrillers will find themselves turning pages late into the night." - Manhattan Book Review

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"This very entertaining work is highly recommended." - Library Review

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"A riveting adventure that is as funny as it is immersive." - Readers Favorite

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"If you're looking for a spy thriller novel flavored with history, drama, political intrigue, comedy, a hint of mystery, suspense, and plot twists, The Mosquito God by Robert Brighton is a perfect pick." - Goodreads Reviewer

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Robert Brighton has a remarkable gift for bringing history to life without letting it overwhelm the story. The Mosquito God is a wonderful blend of intrigue, scientific discovery, political ambition, and human nature. From the opening pages we are eager to see what’s waiting around the next corner.

The historical setting is fascinating, the storytelling intelligent, and Brighton makes you genuinely care about what happens to his characters.

An immensely enjoyable novel for anyone that enjoys great storytelling and genuine human heart. Highly recommended! - Goodreads Reviewer

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“The author truly shines in his cinematic prose, from Bungalow Fifteen’s screened sun porch that shows daily life under the threat of mosquitoes, to the swamp crossing to La Folie that gives Panama’s wet ground amazing texture. Highly, highly recommended.” - Literary Review

❦

I enjoyed every minute and would be first in line for a movie or sequel. A must-read. - Goodreads Review

Read an Excerpt From The Mosquito God

Chapter One

A Rude Awakening

New York City

July 1903

The piercing jangle of the ornate French telephone jolted her awake. What the hell, she thought, trying to extricate herself from the skein of bedclothes. After a few moments of frantic thrashing, she wriggled free and threw her legs over the side of the bed. She slouched there naked, staring blankly at the offending device.

It has to stop eventually, she reassured herself, putting her fingers in her ears. Ignore it.

But the telephone did not stop ringing. It kept on with what seemed like increasing shrillness, and at last she decided that it would never leave her be. She grabbed up the handset.

“What?” she spat into it. “This had better be a wrong number.”

“May I speak with Miss Hannah Black?” a soft, cultured voice said.

“Who’s asking?”

“How soon they forget,” the voice said somewhat wistfully. “It’s John Hay.” He paused to savor the moment. “United States Secretary of State.”

She snapped up straight, her breasts standing out at attention. “Mr. Hay,” she said. “I didn’t recognize your voice.”

“Did I call at a bad time?”

Other than when I’m half-asleep and fully hung-over? she almost blurted out. “Not particularly,” she said instead. “It’s early, that’s all.”

“It’s noon.”

Noon? She turned the bedside clock around. Sure enough, both hands were pointing straight up.

“My alarm clock must have stopped.”

He let the comment pass. “Can you meet me here tomorrow? In Washington?”

“I’m in Manhattan.”

“Yes, I know that,” Hay said. “That’s why I called you there.”

“Oh—yes,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “I meant only—well, it doesn’t matter. What’s it about?”

“I’d rather not go into any details over the telephone,” Hay said.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” she said, trying to suppress a yawn. “I mean, yes, of course, sir. I’ll catch a train down first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Actually, upon reflection,” Hay said, “I’d much prefer if you could come down today—just in case there’s any unforeseen delay tomorrow. The person we will be meeting mustn’t be—what’s the word you younger people use?—stood up. I will have a room reserved for you at the National Hotel, and if you can dine with me there at seven o’clock this evening, I’ll go over the details.”

“All right,” she said somewhat reluctantly. “Tonight, National Hotel, seven o’clock.”

“Perfect!” he said, a smile audible over the line. “I knew I could count on you, Miss Black. Enjoy what remains of your day in New York, and I’ll see you this evening.”

He rang off, and she slowly replaced the handset into its cradle. What remains of my day. She stretched, padded over to the cheval mirror in the corner of her room, and stood before it, turning first to one side and then the other. She threaded her fingers through her thick auburn hair, pulled it up over her head, and let it cascade over her shoulders, pouting appreciatively into the looking-glass.

Not bad, she thought. Not bad at all.

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The Mosquito God

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