NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • On the trail of a killer who cannot possibly exist ... Jeremy Logan, the renowned "enigmalogist," has often found himself in situations where keeping an open mind could mean the difference between life and death, and that has never been more true than now.      When Logan travels to an isolated writers' retreat deep in the Adirondacks to work on his book, he discovers the remote community has been rocked by the grisly death of a hiker on Desolation Mountain. The attack occurred during the full moon and the body was severely mauled, but the unusual savagery calls into question the initial suspicions of a bear attack. Logan's theories take a dramatic turn when he meets Laura Feverbridge, a respected scientist who is still struggling with the violent loss of her father months earlier. As Feverbridge shares her research with Logan, he begins to wonder whether he is actually up against something he can’t believe is real. Don't miss Lincoln Child's new thriller, Chrysalis ! Praise for Lincoln Child and Full Wolf Moon “Chilling. . . . Child uses cutting-edge science and the beautiful Adirondacks landscape to tell a quick and tense story.” —Associated Press “Scary, atmospheric. . . . Fans of  The X Files  will be enthralled.” — Publishers Weekly  (starred review)   “A frightening, exciting tale.” — New York Journal of Books “Lincoln Child's Jeremy Logan novels just get better and better, and this latest installment really knocks it out of the park.  Full Wolf Moon  proves again that mysterious phenomena with a supernatural or otherworldly edge are fully in Child's wheelhouse, and the result this time around is an intense and chilling read.” — Bookreporter “Child's characters are first-rate, as is his writing.” — The Washington Post Book World   “Child creates a perfectly creepy ambiance, and his dialogue and descriptions are yeomanlike.” — Kirkus Reviews   “Lincoln Child’s novels are thrilling and tantalizing.” —Vince Flynn, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Last Man   “Lincoln Child is a master at mystery plots.” — The Florida Times-Union LINCOLN CHILD is the New York Times bestselling author of The Forgotten Room , The Third Gate , Terminal Freeze , Deep Storm , Death Match , and Utopia , as well as coauthor, with Douglas Preston, of numerous New York Times bestsellers, most recently Crimson Shore . He lives with his wife and daughter in Morristown, New Jersey. 1 At seven thirty in the evening Palmer stopped for another snack—handmade gorp and an energy bar from the lid pocket of his backpack. He’d sworn hours before that he wouldn’t allow himself a real dinner—hot and steaming from his titanium griddle—until he’d found a decent place to tent for the night. He looked around slowly as he chewed the energy bar. He’d known it would be a rough slog, and he had believed himself familiar with the surrounding region, but nothing had prepared him for the hike in that day. Guess all the stories were true, he thought a little sourly. It was the second weekend in July, the sun was just starting to slip behind the horizon to the west, but he could nevertheless make out Desolation Mountain, maybe four miles to the north. It stood there, alone, a mirror of blue-black lake at its base, its green flanks exposed as if taunting him. Four miles—but with this country, it might as well be forty. “Shit,” he muttered, shoving the wrapper of the energy bar into his pocket and starting off once again. Desolation Mountain was a trailless peak of 3,250 feet, making it not high enough to be among the “true” forty-six Adirondack tall peaks. Even so, its vertical rise and distance from other summits made it worth notching his belt with. But what made the mountain most attractive to hard-core backpackers, mountain hikers, and students of the Adirondacks was its remoteness. It was situated in the Desolation Lake area, west of the Five Ponds Wilderness—perhaps the wildest, most remote section of the entire six-million-acre park. Remoteness didn’t bother David Palmer. He liked nothing better than to disappear into the wilderness and go for days without seeing another human being. It was actually getting to the mountain that was proving a real bitch. At first, it hadn’t been bad at all. He’d left his SUV hidden among the trees at the Baldwin Mountain trailhead, then hiked five miles down a private logging road until at last it petered out. This was followed by miles of virgin, old-growth timber, so tall that it was always dusk beneath and the forest floor was soft and completely free of saplings. But then he left the Five Ponds Wilderness, the forest fell away behind him, and he began the approach to Desolation Lake. And here was where his fast, easy pace suddenly slowed to a crawl. The country grew ugly, barren, and nearly impossible to traverse. The wilderness between him and the mountain became a labyrinth of outwash bogs, blowdowns, and “kettle holes