A gripping third chapter for one of the most unforgettable and compelling heroines in crime fiction"You have a temper, Officer Coughlin, and a propensity for violence . . . You're a bit of a hazard. To others. To yourself."Maureen Coughlin has been a cop in New Orleans for two years, and she likes to think she's gotten the lay of the land—even if she's never discharged her weapon, and even if she's a little spooked by the persistent rumors of a cash bounty on cops. But when a late-night traffic stop goes wrong, the fallout leaves her contending with troubled friends, fraying loyalties, cop-hunting enemies old and new, and an elusive, mysterious, and murderous new nemesis—all while navigating the twists and turns of a city and a police department infected with dysfunction and corruption. Bill Loehfelm, who lives in New Orleans, is a rising star in crime fiction, and in Maureen Coughlin he's found the perfect heroine: complicated,... Views: 53
High school. It sounds easy enough.Except, I'm at school in a foreign country.Oh, and my dad is a terrorist.And a member of his organization has went rogue. He wants to kill me.Also, I might be falling in love with the president's son, who my father wants dead.I'm in way over my head. Views: 53
Cidade de Deus, the City of God ... welcome to one of Rio's most notorious slums. A place where the streets are awash with drugs, where violence can erupt at any moment, over drugs, money ... and love... but also where the samba beat rocks til dawn, where the women are the most beautiful on earth, and where one young man wants to escape his background and become a photographer.Paulo Lins was born in Rio de Janeiro and at age seven moved to the 'City of God' housing project. He escaped the cycle of violence there to become an internationally celebrated writer, and still lives in Rio. This novel is the result of extended research in the housing project where Lins was raised. He spent eight years interviewing people and researching the drug trafficking and gang warfare that marked the history of the neighbourhood in the 1970s and 80s.Based on a true story, this is a sprawling, magnificently told epic about the history of gang life in Rio's favelas. The original... Views: 53
"NOTHING LESS THAN THE WICKEDEST MAN IN LONDON..."It is October 1859, and notorious philanderer Lord Geoffrey Thraxton cares for nothing except his own amusement. After humiliating an odious literary critic and surviving the resulting duel, he boasts of his contempt for mortality, and insults the attending physician. It is a mistake he will come to regret. When Thraxton becomes obsessed with a mysterious woman who appears to him one fog-shrouded night in Highgate Cemetery, he unwittingly provides the doctor with the perfect means to punish a man with no fear of death... Views: 53
Humorous story about a boy's adjustment to new surroundings and kids in a new school. Packed with fascinating facts about spiders, the story is told through journal entries and scenes of events. Contains a spider bibliography. Views: 53
Blending science with an evocative narrative, Christopher Dewdney takes readers on a fascinating journey to the most elusive and fluid of the dimensions lying within human perception: time. As he did with the hours between dusk and dawn in Acquainted with the Night, Dewdney unlocks all of today, tomorrow and yesterday through his wide-ranging narrative. He shows how time has been imagined through the ages in mythology, philosophy, art and science, answering the questions that have engaged inquiring minds since before recorded history. Why does time flow in only one direction? Is time travel actually possible? Why does time go faster the higher you are from the earth's surface? Spun out across the seasons of a year and through encounters with friends, family and strangers, Soul of the World offers extraordinary insights into the nature of time and its influence on us. Views: 53
Mississippi riverboats, gamblers, a beautiful woman known as Montana Rose leading a double life in more ways than one. Will Michael Tarrington call her bluff or will they play for each other's hearts and lose all. Views: 53
Product DescriptionIn the great floating city of Sanctaphrax, blizzards howl through the streets as the Edgeworld descends into an endless winter. Quint, the son of a sky pirate, has just begun his training at the Knights Academy—training that involves heading out over the Edge on tethers to develop his flying skills. But when Quint breaks the rules and heads out to Open Sky on his own, he runs into the great sky leviathans known as cloud-eaters and must use all his skill and ingenuity if catastrophe is not to strike the Edgeworld. . . .From the Hardcover edition.Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.·chapter one·The School of Colour and LighT STudiesThe academic, in his grubby, paint-spattered robes of faded ‘viaduct’ blue, turned the crank lever with his free hand. The cog wheels in the rotating tower high above him chattered and squealed like angry ratbirds, and a shaft of light cut through the dusty air. The academic levelled the brush in his other hand and tilted his head to one side, his pale yellow eyes fixed on the youth before him.‘A little more to the left now, I think, Master Quint,’ he said, his voice soft but insinuating. ‘So the light catches you. Just so . . .’Quint did as he was told. The early morning light streaming in from the high tower window fell across his face, glinting on his cheekbones, the tips of his ears and nose and, with its rusting pipes and gauges, the battered armour he wore.‘Excellent, my young squire,’ the academic muttered approvingly. He dipped the tip of the hammelhornhair brush into the white paint on his palette and dabbed lightly at the tiny painting on the easel before him. ‘Now we must let the light work its magic,’ he murmured. The dabbing continued. ‘The highlights complete the picture, Master Quint. But I must insist that you hold still.’Quint tried to maintain the pose – but it wasn’t easy. The tower was small and airless, and the heady odours from the pigments, the pinewood oils and the thinning varnishes were combining to make his eyes water and his head ache. The rusty, ill-fitting armour chafed his neck, and his left leg had gone quite numb. Besides, he was dying to see the finished portrait. It was all he could do not to turn right round and inspect it for himself.‘The dawn light,’ clucked the academic. ‘There’s nothing like it for illuminating the subject . . .’ His pale yellow eyes darted back and forth over Quint’s features. ‘And what an illustrious subject we are, my young squire.’He chuckled, and Quint tried not to blush.‘The protégé of none other than the Most High Academe of Sanctaphrax . . .’ He turned away and began stabbing at the palette like a woodthrush after a spanglebug. ‘How lucky you are, Master Quint, not to have to scrabble about with the rest of us in the minor schools, but to be given a place at the most prestigious academy of them all. I wonder . . .’ The academic’s voice was laden with sudden spite. ‘I wonder what you actually did to deserve it?’The academic’s eyes were fixed on Quint’s face once more. They were so pale that there was almost no difference between the irises and the yellowish white that surrounded them. It was a mark of his trade, Quint told himself, trying not to shudder. Just as years of working as an Undertown rope-turner resulted in spatula-shaped fingers, and just as a slaughterer tanner from the Deepwoods ended up with skin the colour of blood, so, as the years passed, the eyes of Sanctaphrax portraitists were gradually bleached by the vapours of the thinning varnishes they used – and Ferule Gleet had been a portraitist for many, many years.‘I was the Most High Academe’s apprentice . . .’ Quint looked down, his cheeks blazing as he remembered the monstrous gloamglozer and the night of the terrible fire.‘Keep still!’ rasped Gleet, irritatedly dabbing at the portrait. ‘Ah, yes,’ he smiled thinly. ‘There was that fire at the Palace of Shadows, wasn’t there? Strange and dreadful business . . . How is the Most High Academe? Recovering well, I hope.’The pale yellow eyes bored into Quint’s once more.‘As well as can be expected,’ the youth replied, but the words rang hollow in his ears as he thought of his mentor lying in the gloomy bedchamber at the School of Mist.Linius Pallitax had suffered grievously at the hands of the terrible gloamglozer. He had almost been destroyed. Perhaps it would have been better if he had, for now he never left his bed, and his haunted eyes stared into the distance, seeing neither his faithful servant, Tweezel, nor Quint, his apprentice – nor even his own daughter, Maris, who sat beside him for so many hours, praying for him to recover.Ferule Gleet daubed at the tiny painting in silence for a moment.‘As well as can be expected, eh?’ he mused at last. ‘Doesn’t sound too good. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to him, my fine young squire. Not in your position.’‘My position?’ said Quint, trying not to move.‘You’re the High Academe’s protégé, aren’t you? Without him, you don’t expect that the Knights Academy would accept you into its hallowed halls, do you? Of course not!’ Ferule shook his head. ‘Sanctaphrax born and bred, that’s always been the rule. The rest of us have to get by at the minor academies as best we can.’He wiped his brush on a piece of rag, and turned the easel round.‘There,’ he announced.Quint found himself staring at the miniature painting of a young knight academic in gleaming armour, with deep indigo eyes and a smile on his face. Ferule Gleet of the School of Colour and Light Studies had done a fine job all right. Quint shivered.‘Is anything wrong?’ Ferule asked.‘It’s nothing,’ Quint said quietly.He had no intention of telling the pale-eyed academic about the memories the miniature painting had stirred – memories of the first time he’d had his portrait done.How young he’d been then. Four, maybe five years old; the youngest of six brothers. His father, Wind Jackal, had commissioned the mural of the whole family for the grand hall of their palace in the Western Quays. What happy days they’d been. But they hadn’t lasted, he thought bitterly. Within a year of the painting being completed, Turbot Smeal – his father’s treacherous quartermaster – had torched his master’s house. Quint’s mother and brothers had perished in the blaze, and with them, the painting itself had been destroyed.From the Hardcover edition. Views: 53
Merchant, industrialist, and explorer Trassan Kressind has an audacious plan—combining the might of magic and iron in the heart of a great ship to navigate an uncrossed ocean, seeking the city of the extinct Morfaan to uncover the secrets of their lost sciences.Ambition runs strongly in the Kressind family, and for each of Trassan's siblings fate beckons. Soldier Rel is banished to a vital frontier, bureaucrat Garten balances responsibility with family loyalty, sister Katriona is determined to carve herself a place in a world of men, outcast Guis struggles to contain the energies of his soul, while priest Aarin dabbles in forbidden sorcery. The world is in turmoil as new money brings new power, and the old social order crumbles. And as mankind's arts grow stronger, a terror from the ancient past awakens... Views: 53
Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1921. A white woman and a black man are alone in an elevator. Suddenly, the woman screams, the man runs out, and the chase to capture and lynch him begins.When Joe, a young man trying to be the next Houdini, is accused of rape, he must perform his greatest escape by eluding a bloodthirsty lynch mob. And Mary, the motherless daughter of a farmer who tries to marry her off to the farmhand who viciously raped her, must find the courage to help exonerate the man she had accused with her panicked cry. Based on true events, Magic City is a portrait of an era, climaxing in the heroic but doomed stand that pitted the National Guard against a small band of black men determined to defend the town they had built into the "Negro Wall Street."Named by the Chicago Tribune as a Favorite Book of 1997 Views: 53
The beach house is a peaceful haven, a place to escape everyday problems. Here, three families find their feelings intensified and their lives transformed each summer.When thirty-year-old Julia, mourning the death of her husband, decides to sell the Santa Cruz beach house they owned together, she sets in motion a final summer that will change the lives of all the families who rent it year after year. Teenaged Chris discovers the bittersweet joy of first love. Maggie and Joe, married sixty-five years, courageously face a separation that even their devotion cannot prevent. The married woman Peter yearns for suddenly comes within his reach. And Julia ultimately finds the strength to rebuild her life—something she once thought impossible.With equal measures of heartbreak and happiness, bestselling author Georgia Bockoven's unforgettable novel tells of the beauty of life and the power of love, and speaks to every woman who has ever clung to a child or loved a man.Amazon.com ReviewJulia Huntington is still reeling from her husband Ken's death when she makes the decision that she will sell their summer house on the beach in Santa Cruz after one last season. Three different families have rented the house each summer. Their stories--and Julia's--are the tales that author Georgia Bockoven so beautifully relates in The Beach House. In an original concept, the book is separated into sections delineating the summer months, prefaced and followed by Julia's own story. Readers will be thoroughly enchanted by these love stories--from teenager Chris to Maggie and Joe, married 65 years and coping with Maggie's terminal illness. In the tradition of such great storytellers as Barbara Delinsky, Iris Rainer Dart, and Kathleen Gilles Seidel, Bockoven has penned a novel of such power that readers will be moved to tears. Georgia Bockoven is an author definitely on the brink of superstardom and The Beach House showcases her talents superbly. --Maudeen WachsmithReview"Georgia Bockoven knows the secret to stirring readers' feelings." -- -- The Sacramento Bee"Georgia Bockoven knows the secret to stirring readers' feelings." -- The Sacramento Bee Views: 53
