Crime Fiction

Elleston Trevor

UK and US First Edition Books

This Elleston Trevor bibliography or checklist features only the mystery titles by the author.
At present we cannot guarantee the chronology when more than one book was published in the same year.
We are always interesting in buying pre 1942 books, UK first editions in dust jacket
If you have anything you may consider selling books wanted

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Title Publisher Date Issue Points - Notes
Immortal Error Gerald Swan 1946 Blue cloth, gilt. Jacket 5/-
Non-criminous
Chorus of Echoes Boardman 1950  
Redfern's Miracle Boardman 1951  
Tiger street Boardman 1951  
Secret Arena Herbert Jenkins 1951  
A Blaze of Roses Heinemann 1952 US: 1952 Harper
The Passion and the pity Heinemann 1953  
Dream of Death Digit 1958  
Silhouette Gerald Swan 1959  
The V.I.P. Heinemann 1959 US: 1960 Morrow
The Mind of Max Duvine Gerald Swan 1960 US: 1960 Wehman
The Billboard Madonna Heinemann 1960 US: 1961 Morrow
The Burning Shore Heinemann 1961 US: 1962 Harper as
The Pasang Run
The Flight of the Phoenix Heinemann 1964 US: 1964 Harper
The Second Chance Digit 1965  
Weave a Rope of Sand Consul 1965  
The Shoot Heinemann 1966 US: 1966 Doubleday
A Place for the Wicked Heinemann 1968 US: 1968 Doubleday
Bury Him Among Kings Heinemann 1970 US: 1970 Doubleday
The Theta Syndrome New English Library 1977 US: 1977 Doubleday
The Sibling New English Library 1980  
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Dust Jacket Artist: Unknown

Further Information - Elleston Trevor Biography
Originally named Trevor Dudley Smith, 17 February 1920 – 21 July 1995, he was a prolific author with numerous pseudonyms probably most notably Adam Hall which he used to pen espionage-spy thrillers which met with some success.

Sample from The Immortal Error
" IF ever the Devil walked the earth," said Myers softly, " he's walking now- " And he's just left the club to get a taxi," said Smaile. I felt uncomfortable, and twiddled my glass with a pretence of terrific concentration on that trivial trick ; no one spoke for a second or two, but in that second several embarrassing things had been thought, and most of us wished that we had not decided to come along to the club for an hour after all. I glanced quickly across to Myers, his face was slightly flushed—not from the one whisky he had had since he had come in half an hour ago—it was a flush of annoyance. I was sorry for Myers. That ridiculous crack of Smaile's had made the breech—it had served no purpose, it had been, if anything, in bad taste. Myers had been indulging in mild exaggeration, yes : but in the circumstances it was not out of place. Martin, the man who had just left the club to get a taxi home, was pretty low—even I thought there was something of Satan in him, and I was perhaps the least vindictive in our little circle round the fireplace. Before I really knew what I was doing, I was attempting to relieve the situation. Just where I got the words from, I can't for a moment guess ; the fact remains that I was suddenly hearing myself talking, in that well-known placatory tone which my friends know I adopt in such circumstances as this one. " Do you think that there is a Devil incarnate, Burns— seriously, I mean 

 

Classic Crime Fiction

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