In Self-Portrait Abroad , our narrator — a Belgian author much like Toussaint himself — travels the globe, finding the mundane blended everywhere with the exotic: With his usual poker face, he keeps up on Corsican gossip in Tokyo and has a battle of nerves in a butcher shop in Berlin; he wins a boules tournament in Cap Corse, takes in a strip club in Japan’s historic Nara, gets pulled through Hanoi on a cycle rickshaw, and has a chance encounter on the road from Tunis to Sfax. Tales of a cosmopolitan at home in a strangely familiar world, Self-Portrait Abroad casts the entire globe in a cool but playful light, reminding us that, wherever we go,we take our own eyes with us… Views: 33
SUMMARY: Ingrid Betancourt tells the story of her captivity in the Colombian jungle, sharing powerful teachings of resilience, resistance, and faith. Born in Bogotį, raised in France, Ingrid Betancourt at the age of thirty-two gave up a life of comfort and safety to return to Colombia to become a political leader in a country that was being slowly destroyed by terrorism, violence, fear, and a pervasive sense of hopelessness. In 2002, while campaigning as a candidate in the Colombian presidential elections, she was abducted by the FARC. Nothing could have prepared her for what came next. She would spend the next six and a half years in the depths of the jungle as a prisoner of the FARC. Even Silence Has an Endis her deeply personal and moving account of that time. Chained day and night for much of her captivity, she never stopped dreaming of escape and, in fact, succeeded in getting away several times, always to be recaptured. In her most successful effort she and a fellow captive survived a week away, but were caught when her companion became desperately ill; she learned later that they had been mere miles from freedom. The facts of her story are astounding, but it is Betancourt's indomitable spirit that drives this very special account, bringing life, nuance, and profundity to the narrative. Attending as intimately to the landscape of her mind as she does to the events of her capture and captivity, Even Silence Has an Endis a meditation on the very stuff of life-fear and freedom, hope and what inspires it. Betancourt tracks her metamorphosis, sharing how in the routines she established for herself-listening to her mother and two children broadcast to her over the radio, daily prayer-she was able to do the unthinkable: to move through the pain of the moment and find a place of serenity. Freed in 2008 by the Colombian army, today Betancourt is determined to draw attention to the plight of hostages and victims of terrorism throughout the world and it is that passion that motivates Even Silence Has an End. The lessons she offers here-in courage, resilience, and humanity-are gifts to treasure. Views: 33
Cain Casey is close to getting everything she wants. Her partner Emma is pregnant with their third child, her children are safe and happy, and her business is still thriving despite the FBI's vendetta. Life is perfect on the surface, but it's the underbelly that worries her. Her long-time enemy Juan Luis and his new partner, rogue agent Anthony Curtis have disappeared; her cousin Muriel has gotten serious about Shelby Philips, the FBI agent in charge of the Casey surveillance team; and her business partner, Remi Jatibon, is facing trouble from her new love Dallas's secret past.While Cain struggles to defeat a new enemy—a woman who just may be her equal when it comes to destroying those who stand against her family—an unimaginable betrayal may bring Cain's charmed life to an end.The fourth book in the Casey Family Saga series Views: 33
Fresh from finding out that she is a demon princess, fighting her aunt for her life, and rescuing her father from being poisoned, Nikki Donovan is looking forward to getting back to her regular high school life. But when Rhys, the handsome king of the faery realm, decides to show up at her school as a "foreign exchange student," Nikki knows this won't be possible. Couple with this a whole host of other problems: there's a new prophecy that claims she will destroy everyone. Her conflicted feelings for Rhys and her boyfriend, Michael, are getting in the way of their relationship. Her best friend Melinda just might be a demon-slayer-in-training, and her old crush Chris might know of her demon side. Throw in a field trip to none other than Hell itself … and Nikki's going to be hoping for a rain check on more than just her homework! Views: 33
THE GUNSMITH is plagued with a royal pain. Clint Adams and a spunky female deputy must show a self-proclaimed 'bandit princess' how to behave like a proper young lady. Views: 33
Unearthing a lost memory may cause her to lose everything she holds dear… but could it also set her free? Bryn Hennesey, a volunteer at the Grove Street Homeless Shelter, was there the night the shelter burned to the ground and five heroic firefighters died at the scene. Among them was her husband, Adam. Like the rest of the surviving spouses, Bryn must find a way to begin again. But Bryn must do so living with a horrible secret.… Garrett Edmonds’s wife, Molly, was the only female firefighter to perish in the blaze. As her husband, it was his job to protect the woman he loved.… How can he go on in the face of such unbearable loss and guilt? And what started the fire that destroyed the dreams and futures of so many? Investigators are stumped. But someone knows the answer….About the AuthorDeborah Raney’s first novel, A Vow to Cherish, was awarded a Silver Angel from Excellence in Media and inspired the acclaimed World Wide Pictures film of the same title. Since then her books have won the RITA Award, the HOLT Medallion, and the National Readers’ Choice Award. Raney was also a finalist for the Christy Award. She and her husband, artist Ken Raney, make their home in their native Kansas. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.1Thursday, November 1Bryn drew the queen of diamonds from the stack of playing cards on the wobbly table between her and Charlie Branson. The grizzled Vietnam vet eyed her from his wheelchair as she discarded an ace. She put on her best poker face and pretended to rearrange her hand. From somewhere behind the peeling paint on the west wall, the pipes clanked in the bowels of the old hospital-turned-homeless-shelter, and the furnace kicked on. Not that it would raise the temperature in this mammoth icebox by one degree, but something about the hiss of radiators was comforting. Charlie drew a card from the tattered deck and flung it away too quickly. He must be close to going out. Good. It was two in the morning, and Bryn was hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before it was time to get breakfast going for the shelter’s residents. Her husband’s twenty-four-hour shift at the fire station ended tomorrow. Adam had said something about taking her to a matinee, and he’d be suspicious if she fell asleep during the movie. Of course, his invitation had come before their big fight. Knowing him, he’d still be brooding and they would stay home and sulk—or argue. Bryn shifted in the chair and rubbed the small of her back. She’d foregone sleep to stay up and play cards with Charlie in an effort to settle him down. He and the new guy had gotten into it again, and Charlie had been too worked up to sleep. He’d balked at her suggestion to read, but she knew the real truth—he was lonely. Just needed someone to sit with him. Bryn had met Charlie at the library where she worked part-time. He was the most well-read man she knew, a fact that endeared him to Myrna Eckland, the library director at Hanover Falls’ public library. Myrna had given Charlie a few odd jobs in exchange for the right to spend his days reading in a quiet corner of the stacks before wheeling to the shelter each evening—after securing his word that he wouldn’t miss his daily shower, of course. Bryn slid the jack of diamonds from the draw pile and discarded it, but something made her stop and listen. Somewhere above them she heard an out-of-the-ordinary noise. She looked at Charlie. “Did you hear that? Shhh . . .” He put his free hand to his ear but shook his head. “I don’t hear anything, sis, but that don’t mean nothin’. My ears are no good.” He craned his neck toward the hallway, listening again. “It’s not the dogs, is it?” Zeke Downing, a new client at the shelter, had brought a bulldog pup named Boss with him when he checked in two weeks ago. The pup had nipped at Charlie’s dog, Sparky, the first day Zeke was here, and Charlie had gone ballistic. Sparky was a stray that Susan Marlowe, the shelter’s director, let the old vet claim. Susan made Charlie keep the dog chained outside and buy its food out of his VA disability pension. But Charlie loved the mutt, a Labrador mix. Any friend of Sparky’s was a friend of Charlie’s, and any enemy of Sparky better watch out. More than once, Zeke and Charlie had almost come to blows over the dogs. Bryn thought Sparky could take Boss without much effort, but Zeke was able-bodied and twice the size of Charlie. It would not be a pretty picture if the two men ever actually duked it out. Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “So help me, if that SOB let that mutt loose again . . .” “Charlie . . .” She shook her head and feigned a stern look. “You’d better not let Susan hear you use that kind of language.” “What? Mutt’s not a bad word.” “You know what I mean.” His smirk made it hard not to laugh. Bryn was mostly teasing, but Susan did have a zero-tolerance policy when it came to cursing. “I didn’t actually say anything.” “Yeah, but you know Susan . . . even initials are pushing it with her.” He rolled his eyes and fanned out his cards. “I don’t think Zeke’s even here tonight.” She held up a hand, listening for the sound again. “Besides, it doesn’t sound like dogs. Maybe it’s just a siren, but it sounds different . . . more like a squeal. You don’t have a battery going out in your hearing aid, do you?” Charlie laid down his cards, put his thick pinky finger to his ear, and twisted. “That better?” She shook her head. “I still hear it.” “This old building has so many creaks and groans I’m surprised anybody can sleep here. That’s the only good thing about these blame things”—he adjusted the other hearing aid—“I can just turn ’em off.” The noise didn’t sound quite like distant sirens, but nevertheless, she shot up a quick prayer for her husband the way she always did when she knew he might be out on a run. Guilt pinched her. Adam wasn’t even supposed to be on duty tonight. He was only there because she’d talked him into pulling an extra shift. Ironic, given all the grief she’d thrown at him about the long hours he worked. With Adam being low man on the totem pole, he always had to work holidays, and too many weekends. Sometimes Bryn wondered why they’d even bothered to get married if they were never going to be together. She thought she would go crazy if she had to spend one more long night alone in their little cracker box of a townhome. That was the whole reason she’d started volunteering here, taken the night shift. And how much worse would it be when they had kids? The faint noise droned on. She looked at the stained ceiling. “It almost sounds like it’s coming from upstairs.” Charlie shook his head and a glint of mischief came to his eyes. “Listen, girlie, if you’re just trying to weasel your way out of this game, you can forget it.” He drew another card and wriggled bushy eyebrows at her. “I’m about to clean your clock.” They took turns drawing and discarding cards in silence, but Bryn kept one ear tuned to the sound. Charlie was right: the noises in this old building had scared her to death the first time she’d worked the late shift. It was probably just the pipes creaking again, but it sounded different somehow tonight. Susan was in the dining room, sleeping. She’d told Bryn she would take the middle-of-the-night rounds, but Bryn decided she’d do a walk-through as soon as they finished this hand, just to be sure nothing was amiss. She’d almost forgotten about the noise when a dog started howling outside the building. Charlie’s head shot up. “Now, that I heard. That’s Sparky.” Pressing his forearms to the wheelchair’s armrests and lifting his rear off the seat, he repositioned himself. He picked up his cards, fanned them out in gnarled fingers, then laid them facedown on the cluttered table before maneuvering his chair backward. “I need to go check on him.” Bryn gave a little growl and jumped up. “Charlie Branson, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you put Sparky up to this. I am one card away from gin!” He gave a snort. “Don’t you worry, sis. I’ll be right back.” “Stay here. I’ll go see what’s up.” She scooted around Charlie’s chair and went to peek down the hallway. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, but she jogged to the end of the hall, fumbling with the key on the lanyard around her neck as she ran. The doors to the shelter—housed in the building’s basement—were locked at eleven each night unless the smokers could talk the volunteers into letting them have one last cigarette before they turned in. Bryn punched in the code to disable the alarm, unlocked the door, and hurried up the short flight of stairs that led to the street-level parking behind the building. The November air hit her face, and her breath hung in a fog. Sparky was tied in his usual spot. He yanked at his chain, alternately yipping and howling. Sparky looked like a black Labrador in color and build, but Charlie was proud of the dog’s lack of a pedigree. “He’s a mutt like me . . . Heinz 57,” Charlie told anyone who asked. Bryn knelt and framed the silky black head in her hands. His ears were on alert and his hackles stood stiff. “Hey, boy,” she crooned. “What’s wrong? Is that mean doggie giving you trouble again? Huh? Is he?” But Zeke wasn’t on tonight’s sign-in list, and Boss wasn’t tied up out here. Bryn looked around to see if something else was causing Sparky’s excitement—maybe another animal—but the parking lot was empty except for her car and Susan’s, and the dilapidated old station wagon Tony Xavier lived in during the daylight hours when the shelter was closed. She shushed Sparky again and stroked his head as he pushed his muzzle into the cup of her hands. But the minute she turned toward the door, he started in yapping again. She went back and took him by the collar, unclipping the chain. “What’s wrong, fella? You want to go for a little walk?” She scratched his head and panned the parking lot. Dim light from the lone streetlight at the end of the lot caused the building to cast deep shadows. “You’re okay, boy. Let’s walk a little bit.” Sparky stood at her side, on alert, his breaths coming short, like he was on the trail of a rabbit. She tightened her grip on his collar and clicked her tongue like she’d heard Charlie do before he wheeled his chair around the bumpy parking lot, Sparky in tow. She started away from the building, not liking how dark it was out here, and already hearing Adam’s lecture if he found out she was here by herself at two in the morning—if he found out she was here at all. Spa... Views: 33
When Rebecca's boyfriend talks her into vacationing at a mountain lodge with his swing club, she quickly learns she's not cut out for playing musical beds. Now she has nowhere to sleep. Logan, the lodge owner, finds her freezing on the porch. After hauling her inside, he warms her in his own bed, and there the experienced Dom discovers that Rebecca might not be a swinger...but she is definitely a submissive.Rebecca knows that no one can love her plump, scarred body. To her shock, lodge owner Logan not only disagrees, but ties her up and shows her just how much he enjoys her curves. Under his skilled hands, Rebecca not only loses her inhibitions, but also her heart.Damaged from the war, Logan considers himself too dangerous to be around the enticing little sub. He sends her away for her own safety, not realizing she believes she has once again been rejected because of her size. As Logan's mountains echo with her voice long after she's gone, he realizes she's taken his heart with her. But when he arrives in the city to reclaim her, Rebecca's phone has been disconnected and her apartment is empty...Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, BDSM theme and content, exhibitionism. Views: 33
Chris Ward is killed in a car accident with a pretty girl. His wife never suspected that Chris was having an affair and her feeling of betrayal makes her want to find out how long it had been going on. But her investigations lead her into danger as she is stalked by the evil Sons of Midnight. Views: 33
