2012, ISBN: 9780330361125

Edition reliée

Island Books. Good. 4.1 x 1 x 6.8 inches. Mass Market Paperback. 1999. 416 pages. Cover worn.<br>One of the best novels of the year from one of the very best writers at work today.… Plus…

Island Books. Good. 4.1 x 1 x 6.8 inches. Mass Market Paperback. 1999. 416 pages. Cover worn.<br>One of the best novels of the year from one of the very best writers at work today.--Rocky Mountain News The townspeople of New Iberia, Louisiana, didn't crucify Megan Flynn's father. They just didn't catch whoever pinned him to a ba rn wall with sixteen-penny nails. Decades later, Megan, now a wo rld-famous photojournalist, has come back to the bayou, looking f or cop Dave Robicheaux. It was Dave who found the body of labor l eader Jack Flynn. The sight changed the boy, shaped him as a man. And after forty years, Robicheaux is still haunted by the bizarr e unsolved slaying. Now Megan's return has stirred up the ghosts of the long-buried past, igniting a storm of violence that will rip apart lives of blacks and whites in this bayou country. And f or a good cop with bad memories, hard desire, and chilling nightm ares, the time has come to uncover the truth. Editorial Reviews Review Splendidly atmospheric...with dialogue so sharp you can s have with it.--People One of the best novels of the year from on e of the very best writers at work today.--Rocky Mountain News E ngrossing...a vivid, violent fable...James Lee Burke outshines hi mself in Sunset Limited.--Daily News (N.Y.) America's best novel ist.--The Denver Post Top-drawer work...James Lee Burke just kee ps getting better...Burke writes of the bayous, their people and their violence with electrical luminescence. The dialogue crackle s like heat lightning and the story races from conflict to confli ct. Robicheaux, a modern-day tragic hero, continues to grow as on e of crime fiction's major figures.--San Antonio Express-News Bu rke's dialogue sounds true as a tape recording; his writing about action is strong and economical. . . . Burke is a prose stylist to be reckoned with.--Los Angeles Times Book Review Burke flies miles above most contemporary crime novelists.--The Orlando Senti nel Among writers in the genre, only Tony Hillerman's novels abo ut the Navajo tribal police match Burke's ability to write evocat ively about the natural world. . . . It's hard to imagine readers not bolting it down like a steaming plate of crawfish etouffee.- -Entertainment Weekly Burke writes prose that has a pronounced s treak of poetry in it.--The New York Times James Lee Burke isn't simply a crime writer--he's the Graham Greene of the bayou.--New York Daily News If you haven't already discovered Burke's novel s, find one!--Chicago Tribune James Lee Burke can write some of the best scenes of violence in American literature. He can also t oss out a metaphor or a brief descriptive phrase that can stop a reader cold.--The Washington Post Book World It has become appar ent that not since Raymond Chandler has anyone so thoroughly rein vented the crime and mystery genre as James Lee Burke.--Jim Harri son, author of Legends of the Fall If you haven't read Burke, ge t going.--Playboy Nobody working in the genre holds us more comp ellingly than Mr. Burke, or with such style and ferocity. He stan ds all but alone in the invention of character.--The New Yorker One of our most compelling novelists.--New York Newsday Few writ ers in america can evoke a region as well as Burke.--The Philadel phia Inquirer Robicheaux is a detective to be reckoned with, mor e interesting than Spenser, more complex and satisfying than Trav is McGee . . . James Lee Burke is a writer to be remembered.--USA Today Burke writes prose as moody and memory-laden as his regio n.--Time Burke tells a story in a style all his own; language th at's alive, electric; he's a master at setting mood, laying in at mosphere, all with quirky, raunchy dialog that's a delight.--Elmo re Leonard It's hard to deny the powerful impact of Mr. Burke's hard-boiled poetics.--The Wall Street Journal From the Inside Fl ap aked with sin, Dave Robicheaux is dueling with killers, ghosts , and a woman's revenge.... The townspeople of New Iberia, Louis iana, didn't crucify Megan Flynn's father. They just didn't catch whoever pinned him to a barn wall with sixteen-penny nails. Dec ades later, Megan, now a world-famous photojournalist, has come b ack to the bayou, looking for cop Dave Robicheaux. It was Dave wh o found the body of labor leader Jack Flynn. The sight changed th e boy, shaped him as a man. And after forty years, Robicheaux is still haunted by the bizarre unsolved slaying. Now Megan's retur n has stirred up the ghosts of the long-buried past, igniting a s torm of violence that will rip apart lives of blacks and whites i n this bayou county. And for a good cop with bad memories, hard d esires, and chilling nightmares, the time has come to uncover the truth. From the Back Cover In a land soaked with sin, Dave Robi cheaux is dueling with killers, ghosts, and a woman's revenge.... The townspeople of New Iberia, Louisiana, didn't crucify Megan Flynn's father. They just didn't catch whoever pinned him to a ba rn wall with sixteen-penny nails. Decades later, Megan, now a wo rld-famous photojournalist, has come back to the bayou, looking f or cop Dave Robicheaux. It was Dave who found the body of labor l eader Jack Flynn. The sight changed the boy, shaped him as a man. And after forty years, Robicheaux is still haunted by the bizarr e unsolved slaying. Now Megan's return has stirred up the ghosts of the long-buried past, igniting a storm of violence that will rip apart lives of blacks and whites in this bayou county. And fo r a good cop with bad memories, hard desires, and chilling nightm ares, the time has come to uncover the truth. About the Author J ames Lee Burke is the author of sixteen previous books, including the New York Times bestsellers Cimarron Rose, Cadillac Jukebox, Burning Angel, and Dixie City Jam. He lives with his wife in Miss oula, Montana, and New Iberia, Louisiana. Excerpt. ® Reprinted b y permission. All rights reserved. The jailer, Alex Guidry, lived outside of town on a ten-acre horse farm devoid of trees or shad e. The sun's heat pooled in the tin roofs of his outbuildings, an d grit and desiccated manure blew out of his horse lots. His oblo ng 1960s red-brick house, its central-air-conditioning units roar ing outside a back window twenty-four hours a day, looked like a utilitarian fortress constructed for no other purpose than to rep el the elements. His family had worked for a sugar mill down tow ard New Orleans, and his wife's father used to sell Negro burial insurance, but I knew little else about him. He was one of those aging, well-preserved men with whom you associate a golf photo on the local sports page, membership in a self-congratulatory civic club, a charitable drive that is of no consequence. Or was ther e something else, a vague and ugly story years back? I couldn't r emember. Sunday afternoon I parked my pickup truck by his stable and walked past a chain-link dog pen to the riding ring. The dog pen exploded with the barking of two German shepherds who carome d off the fencing, their teeth bared, their paws skittering the f eces that lay baked on the hot concrete pad. Alex Guidry cantere d a black gelding in a circle, his booted calves fitted with Engl ish spurs. The gelding's neck and sides were iridescent with swea t. Guidry sawed the bit back in the gelding's mouth. What is it? he said. I'm Dave Robicheaux. I called earlier. He wore tan ri ding pants and a form-fitting white polo shirt. He dismounted and wiped the sweat off his face with a towel and threw it to a blac k man who had come out of the stable to take the horse. You want to know if this guy Broussard was in the detention chair? The an swer is no, he said. He says you've put other inmates in there. For days. Then he's lying. You have a detention chair, though, don't you? For inmates who are out of control, who don't respond to Isolation. You gag them? No. I rubbed the back of my neck and looked at the dog pen. The water bowl was turned over and fli es boiled in the door of the small doghouse that gave the only re lief from the sun. You've got a lot of room here. You can't let your dogs run? I said. I tried to smile. Anything else, Mr. Robi cheaux? Yeah. Nothing better happen to Cool Breeze while he's in your custody. I'll keep that in mind, sir. Close the gate on yo ur way out, please. I got back in my truck and drove down the sh ell road toward the cattle guard. A half dozen Red Angus grazed i n Guidry's pasture, while snowy egrets perched on their backs. T hen I remembered. It was ten or eleven years back, and Alex Guidr y had been charged with shooting a neighbor's dog. Guidry had cla imed the dog had attacked one of his calves and eaten its entrail s, but the neighbor told another story, that Guidry had baited a steel trap for the animal and had killed it out of sheer meanness . I looked into the rearview mirror and saw him watching me from the end of the shell drive, his legs slightly spread, a leather riding crop hanging from his wrist. Monday morning I returned to work at the Iberia Parish Sheriff's Department and took my mail out of my pigeonhole and tapped on the sheriff's office. He tilt ed back in his swivel chair and smiled when he saw me. His jowls were flecked with tiny blue and red veins that looked like fresh ink on a map when his temper flared. He had shaved too close and there was a piece of bloody tissue paper stuck in the cleft in hi s chin. Unconsciously he kept stuffing his shirt down over his pa unch into his gunbelt. You mind if I come back to work a week ear ly? I asked. This have anything to do with Cool Breeze Broussard 's complaint to the Justice Department? I went out to Alex Guidr y's place yesterday. How'd we end up with a guy like that as our jailer? It's not a job people line up for, the sheriff said. He scratched his forehead. You've got an FBI agent in your office ri ght now, some gal named Adrien Glazier. You know her? Nope. How' d she know I was going to be here? She called your house first. Your wife told her. Anyway, I'm glad you're back. I want this bul lshit at the jail cleared up. We just got a very weird case that was thrown in our face from St. Mary Parish. He opened a manila folder and put on his glasses and peered down at the fax sheets i n his fingers. This is the story he told me. Three months ago, u nder a moon haloed with a rain ring and sky filled with dust blow ing out of the sugarcane fields, a seventeen-year-old black girl named Sunshine Labiche claimed two white boys forced her car off a dirt road into a ditch. They dragged her from behind the wheel, walked her by each arm into a cane field, then took turns raping and sodomizing her. The next morning she identified both boys fr om a book of mug shots. They were brothers, from St. Mary Parish, but four months earlier they had been arrested for a convenience store holdup in New Iberia and had been released for lack of evi dence. This time they should have gone down. They didn't. Both had alibis, and the girl admitted she had been smoking rock with her boyfriend before she was raped. She dropped the charges. La te Saturday afternoon an unmarked car came to the farmhouse of th e two brothers over in St. Mary Parish. The father, who was bedri dden in the front room, watched the visitors, unbeknown to them, through a crack in the blinds. The driver of the car wore a green uniform, like sheriff's deputies in Iberia Parish, and sunglasse s and stayed behind the wheel, while a second man, in civilian cl othes and a Panama hat, went to the gallery and explained to the two brothers they only had to clear up a couple of questions in N ew Iberia, then they would be driven back home. It ain't gonna t ake five minutes. We know you boys didn't have to come all the wa y over to Iberia Parish just to change your luck, he said. The b rothers were not cuffed; in fact, they were allowed to take a twe lve-pack of beer with them to drink in the back seat. A half hou r later, just at sunset, a student from USL, who was camped out i n the Atchafalaya swamp, looked through the flooded willow and gu m trees that surrounded his houseboat and saw a car stop on the l evee. Two older men and two boys got out. One of the older men wo re a uniform. They all held cans of beer in their hands; all of t hem urinated off the levee into the cattails. Then the two boys, dressed in jeans and Clorox-stained print shirts with the sleeve s cut off at the armpits, realized something was wrong. They turn ed and stared stupidly at their companions, who had stepped backw ard up the levee and were now holding pistols in their hands. Th e boys tried to argue, holding their palms outward, as though the y were pushing back an invisible adversary. Their arms were olive with suntan, scrolled with reformatory tattoos, their hair spike d in points with butch wax. The man in uniform raised his gun and shouted an unintelligible order at them, motioning at the ground . When the boys did not respond, the second armed man, who wore a Panama hat, turned them toward the water with his hand, almost g ently, inserted his shoe against the calf of one, then the other, pushing them to their knees, as though he were arranging manikin s in a show window. Then he rejoined the man in uniform up the ba nk. One of the boys kept looking back fearfully over his shoulder . The other was weeping uncontrollably, his chin tilted upward, h is arms stiff at his sides, his eyes tightly shut. The men with guns were silhouetted against a molten red sun that had sunk acro ss the top of the levee. Just as a flock of ducks flapped across the sun, the gunmen clasped their weapons with both hands and sta rted shooting. But because of the fading light, or perhaps the na ture of their deed, their aim was bad. Both victims tried to ris e from their knees, their bodies convulsing simultaneously from t he impact of the rounds. The witness said, Their guns just kept popping. It looked like somebody was blowing chunks out of a wate rmelon. After it was over, smoke drifted out over the water and the shooter in the Panama hat took close-up flash pictures with a Polaroid camera. The witness used a pair of binoculars. He says the guy in the green uniform had our department patch on his sle eve, the sheriff said. White rogue cops avenging the rape of a b lack girl? Look, get that FBI agent out of here, will you? He lo oked at the question in my face. She's got a broom up her ass. H e rubbed his fingers across his mouth. Did I say that? I'm going to go back to the laundry business. A bad day used to b, Island Books, 1999, 2.5, Candlewick. Very Good. 5.13 x 0.58 x 7.63 inches. Paperback. 2012. 208 pages. <br>The New York Times best-selling series An easy se ll to girls looking for a friendship story with more than a touch of make-believe. -- Kirkus Reviews When Emily Windsnap discover s an old diamond ring during a class hunt for trinkets, how is sh e supposed to know that the ring is half the key to unlocking an ancient curse by Neptune himself? Now, with the ring stuck firmly on her hand, Emily finds herself under a new curse: in just a fe w days, she'll cease to be half-human and half-mermaid and must s ay good-bye to one parent forever. Can she possibly find the othe r missing ring that will break all the curses? Is there anyone wh o can help her -- before it's too late? Editorial Reviews Revie w This quick read is light and charming but also heartfelt. -VOYA Should be an easy sell to girls looking for a friendship story with more than a touch of make believe. -Kirkus Reviews Kessler combines the whimsy of life as a mermaid with the problems of an average middle-schooler...Plenty of dialogue and Ledwidge's soft, dreamlike line drawings add textual and visual interest, making for a zippy story in an attractive package. -School Library Journ al What will most delight readers are the details of undersea li fe, from course work in hair brushing to 'scale polish' for decor ating tails. -Booklist Liz Kessler and book mention in article C BC Plans Online Venture with Girl Scouts -PW Children's Bookshelf I'm a fan of Emily Windsnap. She's smart, she's spunky, she can be brave, but mostly she's just an ordinary teenaged girl that j ust happens to have a tail. -AmoxCalli blog A complex story with deepening questions about love and its meanings, anger and its c onsequences, redemption and hope for the future...couched in a lu shly detailed story about underwater life that should capture the attention and hearts of girls who love adventurous, romantic tal es encased in charming fantasy elements. -Kidsreads About th e Author Excerpt. ® Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved . It's midnight, and as light as day. A full moon shines down on the ocean, making the waves dance as they skirt the edges of the tiny island, lapping on jagged rocks and stony beaches. A chariot glides through the sea, tracing a circle around the island. Soli d gold and adorned with jewels on ­every side, the chariot is pul led by dolphins, each decorated with a row of diamonds and pearls along its back and head. Inside the chariot sits the king of all the oceans: Neptune, grander than ever, a chain of sparkling jew els around his neck, his gold crown glinting above his white hair , his trident by his side. His green eyes shine in the moonlight as he looks across at the island. He is waiting for his bride to appear from the castle that stands above the rocks, half hidden b y mist, its dark windows gleaming in the bright night sky. Go aro und again! he demands, his voice booming like thunder. His words send ripples bouncing away from the chariot. The dolphins draw an other circle around the island. And then she is there, smiling as she steps ­toward the water's edge, her eyes meeting his, their gaze so fierce it almost brings the space between them to life. A bridge between their two worlds. A small flock of starlings appr oaches the water as she does, circling the air above her head li ke a feathered crown. Twisting her head to smile up at them, she holds out a hand. Instantly, one of the birds breaks o? from the circle and flies down ­toward her open palm. Hovering almost moti on-less in the air, it drops something from its claw into her pal m. A diamond ring. As the woman closes her hand around the ring, the starling rejoins the other birds and they fly away into the n ight, slinking across the sky like a giant writhing snake. I give you this diamond to represent my love, as great as the earth its elf, as firm as the ground on which I stand. The woman flicks bac k shiny black hair as she reaches out ­toward the chariot to plac e the ring on Neptune's finger. A twist of the trident, and a dol phin swims forward. As it bows down to Neptune, it reveals a pear l ring, perfectly balanced on its brow. Neptune takes the ring. H olding it out in his palm, he speaks softly. And with this pearl, I o?er you the sea, my world, as boundless and everlasting as my love for you. He slides the ring onto her finger. This is a most enchanted moment. A full moon at midnight on the spring equinox. This will not happen for another five hundred years. It is almos t as rare as our love. She smiles at him, her white dress wet at the bottom where she stands in the sea by his chariot. Holding hi s trident in the air, Neptune continues. These rings may only eve r be worn by two folk in love -- one from the sea, one from land -- or by a child of such a pair. As long as they are so worn, no one can remove them. No one can even touch them, the woman says. Neptune laughs. No one can even touch them, he says. Then he hold s his other hand up, palm facing the woman. She does the same and their arms form an arch, the rings touching as they clasp hands. A hundred stars crackle in the sky above them, bursting into col or like fireworks. When the rings touch like this, Neptune contin ues, they will undo any act born of hatred or anger. Only love sh all reign, he says. Only love, she repeats. Then he spreads his a rms out in front of him. At this moment, night and day are equal, and now, so too are earth and sea. For as long as we wear these rings, the symbols of our marriage, there will always be peace an d harmony between the two worlds. With a final wave of his triden t, Neptune reaches out to help the woman into the chariot. Hand i n hand, they sit close together, her long dress flowing to one si de of the chariot, his jewel-encrusted tail lying over the other side. The dolphins lift the reins and the chariot glides silently o?, taking its royal owners away to begin their married life tog ether. Emily! I won't tell you again. I opened an eye to see Mom pulling back the curtain across the porthole in my bedroom. Outs ide, an oval moon hung low in a navy sky. Almost full, I thought automatically. We'd been learning about the moon's cycle at schoo l. It's still night, I complained as I pulled the quilt over my face and snuggled back into my pillow. It's half past seven, Mom replied, perching on the edge of my bed. She folded the quilt bac k and kissed my forehead. Come on, sweet pea, she said. You'll be late for school. As she got up, she added under her breath, Not that you'd miss much if you were. They ­haven't exactly taught yo u anything useful at that place so far. She'd left the room befor e I had a chance to reply. I let out a heavy sigh as I lay in bed , looking up at the ceiling. Mom seemed to be ­really down lately . That was the third time she'd grumbled about something in the l ast week. Personally, I ­couldn't see what there was to complain about. We were living on a beautiful secret island: Mom, Dad, and me, all together on an elegant old wooden ship half sunk in the golden sand and sparkling water that surround the whole island. M erfolk and humans, together in peace. I realize that last part ­i sn't necessarily a requirement in ­everyone's ideal living situat ion, but it comes in handy when your mom's a human, your dad's a merman, and you're half-and-half. I pulled my bathing suit on an d joined Mom at the breakfast table. ., Candlewick, 2012, 3, Chippendale, N.S.W.: Picador, 1998. Hardback. Very Good. A copy that has been read, but is in excellent condition. Pages are intact and not marred by notes or highlighting. The spine remains undamaged. In 1952, Malachy McCourt left a childhood of poverty in Limerick, Ireland, heading for the promise of America. This is the story of what he brought w ith him, and what he thought he left behind. Larger than life, a world-class drinker, McCourt carved out a place for him self in New York City: in the saloons, as the first celebrity bartender, mi xing with socialites, writers, and movie stars, on stage and on television, where the tales he spun made him a Tonight Show regular. He had money and women and, eventually, children of his own; and that's whe n he found he had not left his memories as far behind as he had thought. H e had no choice but to stop and turn and face his past. Darkly funny, shockingly raw, and everywhere making the English language do tricks the British never intended, Malachy McCourt, a true original, tells this story with passion, wit, irreverence, and charm., Picador, 1998, 3<

2007, ISBN: 9780330361125

First edition, first printing hardcover, which is in fine condition. Please see photos. Seller will carefully wrap book in bubble wrap, box it, and ship it with tracking.Both a memoir and… Plus…

First edition, first printing hardcover, which is in fine condition. Please see photos. Seller will carefully wrap book in bubble wrap, box it, and ship it with tracking.Both a memoir and an investigation, Swimming in a Sea of Death is David Rieff's loving tribute to his mother, the writer Susan Sontag, and her final battle with cancer. Rieff's witness of the last nine months of her life, from her initial diagnosis to her death, is both an intensely personal portrait of the relationship between a mother and a son, and a reflection on what it is like to try to help someone gravely ill in her fight to go on living and, when the time comes, to die with dignity.Rieff offers no easy answers. Instead, his intensely personal book is a meditation on what it means to confront death in our culture. In his most profound work, this writer confronts the blunt feelings of the survivor - the guilt, the self-questioning, the sense of not having done enough.And he tries to understand what it means to desire so desperately, as his mother did to the end of her life, to try almost anything in order to go on living.Drawing on his mother's heroic struggle, paying tribute to her doctors' ingenuity and faithfulness, and determined to tell what happened to them all, Swimming in a Sea of Death subtly draws wider lessons that will be of value to others when they find themselves in the same situation., Simon & Schuster, 4, Atria Books. Very Good. 24 x 16cm. Hardcover. 2007. 464 pages. <br>In nineteen minutes, you can mow the front lawn, c olor your hair, watch a third of a hockey game. In nineteen minut es, you can bake scones or get a tooth filled by a dentist; you c an fold laundry for a family of five....In nineteen minutes, you can stop the world, or you can just jump off it. In nineteen minu tes, you can get revenge. Sterling is a small, ordinary New Hamp shire town where nothing ever happens -- until the day its compla cency is shattered by a shocking act of violence. In the aftermat h, the town's residents must not only seek justice in order to be gin healing but also come to terms with the role they played in t he tragedy. For them, the lines between truth and fiction, right and wrong, insider and outsider have been obscured forever. Josie Cormier, the teenage daughter of the judge sitting on the case, could be the state's best witness, but she can't remember what ha ppened in front of her own eyes. And as the trial progresses, fau lt lines between the high school and the adult community begin to show, destroying the closest of friendships and families. Ninet een Minutes is New York Times bestselling author Jodi Picoult's m ost raw, honest, and important novel yet. Told with the straightf orward style for which she has become known, it asks simple quest ions that have no easy answers: Can your own child become a myste ry to you? What does it mean to be different in our society? Is i t ever okay for a victim to strike back? And who -- if anyone -- has the right to judge someone else? Editorial Reviews Amazon.c om Review Best known for tackling controversial issues through ri chly told fictional accounts, Jodi Picoult's 14th novel, Nineteen Minutes, deals with the truth and consequences of a smalltown hi gh-school shooting. Set in Sterling, New Hampshire, Picoult offer s reads a glimpse of what would cause a 17-year-old to wake up on e day, load his backpack with four guns, and kill nine students a nd one teacher in the span of nineteen minutes. As with any Picou lt novel, the answers are never black and white, and it is her ex ceptional ability to blur the lines between right and wrong that make this author such a captivating storyteller. On Peter Hough ton's first day of kindergarten, he watched helplessly as an olde r boy ripped his lunch box out of his hands and threw it out the window. From that day on, his life was a series of humiliations, from having his pants pulled down in the cafeteria, to being call ed a freak at every turn. But can endless bullying justify murder ? As Picoult attempts to answer this question, she shows us all s ides of the equation, from the ruthless jock who loses his abilit y to speak after being shot in the head, to the mother who both b lames and pities herself for producing what most would call a mon ster. Surrounding Peter's story is that of Josie Cormier, a forme r friend whose acceptance into the popular crowd hangs on a strin g that makes it impossible for her to reconcile her beliefs with her actions. At times, Nineteen Minutes can seem tediously ster eotypical-- jocks versus nerds, parent versus child, teacher vers us student. Part of Picoult's gift is showing us the subtleties o f these common dynamics, and the startling effects they often hav e on the moral landscape. As Peter's mother says at the end of th is spellbinding novel, Everyone would remember Peter for nineteen minutes of his life, but what about the other nine million? --Gi sele Toueg From Publishers Weekly Starred Review. Bestseller Pi coult (My Sister's Keeper) takes on another contemporary hot-butt on issue in her brilliantly told new thriller, about a high schoo l shooting. Peter Houghton, an alienated teen who has been bullie d for years by the popular crowd, brings weapons to his high scho ol in Sterling, N.H., one day and opens fire, killing 10 people. Flashbacks reveal how bullying caused Peter to retreat into a wor ld of violent computer games. Alex Cormier, the judge assigned to Peter's case, tries to maintain her objectivity as she struggles to understand her daughter, Josie, one of the surviving witnesse s of the shooting. The author's insights into her characters' dee p-seated emotions brings this ripped-from-the-headlines read chil lingly alive. (Mar.) Copyright ® Reed Business Information, a di vision of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. From Publisher s Weekly Starred Review. Bestseller Picoult (My Sister's Keeper) takes on another contemporary hot-button issue in her brilliantly told new thriller, about a high school shooting. Peter Houghton, an alienated teen who has been bullied for years by the popular crowd, brings weapons to his high school in Sterling, N.H., one d ay and opens fire, killing 10 people. Flashbacks reveal how bully ing caused Peter to retreat into a world of violent computer game s. Alex Cormier, the judge assigned to Peter's case, tries to mai ntain her objectivity as she struggles to understand her daughter , Josie, one of the surviving witnesses of the shooting. The auth or's insights into her characters' deep-seated emotions brings th is ripped-from-the-headlines read chillingly alive. (Mar.) Copyr ight ® Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc . All rights reserved. From Bookmarks Magazine Nobody does 'ripp ed from the headlines' better than Picoult, claims the Christian Science Monitor, and in her 14th book she takes on the sensitive, disturbing topic of school shootings. This is a raw subject for many, and reviewers were quick to note that this intense novel is not for the squeamish. Fans of Picoult (My Sister's Keeper,***1/ 2 July/Aug 2004) will recognize the setting, some of the characte rs, and her trademark, jaw-dropping plot twists as she explores t he events leading up to and following the tragedy. Reviewers appl auded her ability to make readers sympathize as much with the sho oter as with his targets, blending the lines of aggressor and vic tim with ease. Those who dare to venture into such dark territory will be richly rewarded. Copyright © 2004 Phillips & Nelson Med ia, Inc. From Booklist Popular and prolific Picoult (My Sister's Keeper, and The Tenth Circle , 2006) now tackles the troubling t opic of a school shooting. Picoult considers the tragedy--in 19 q uick minutes, 10 are dead and 19 are wounded--from several differ ent perspectives, including that of the shooter, a troubled boy n amed Peter, who was mercilessly picked on at school. The small to wn of Sterling is rocked by the carnage. Alex Cormier is the supe rior court judge planning to hear the case, but her daughter, Jos ie, Peter's only friend during childhood but now a member of the in crowd, was in the midst of the melee. Peter spared Josie, but killed her boyfriend. Two characters from previous Picoult novels are also involved. Charismatic detective Patrick DuCharme rushes into the school and apprehends Peter, and Jordan McAfee agrees t o defend the young killer. Every bit as gripping and moving as Pi coult's previous novels, Nineteen Minutes will no doubt garner co nsiderable attention for its controversial subject and twist endi ng. Kristine Huntley Copyright © American Library Association. Al l rights reserved Review A master of the craft of storytelling. -- AP Newswire Picoult spins fast-paced tales of family dysfunct ion, betrayal, and redemption.... [Her] depiction of these rites of contemporary adolescence is exceptional: unflinching, unjudgme ntal, utterly chilling. -- The Washington Post Jodi Picoult's bo oks explore all the shades of gray in a world too often judged in black and white. -- St. Louis Post-Dispatch About the Author Jo di Picoult received an AB in creative writing from Princeton and a master's degree in education from Harvard. The recipient of the 2003 New England Book Award for her entire body of work, she is the author of twenty-six novels, including the #1 New York Times bestsellers House Rules, Handle With Care, Change of Heart, and M y Sister's Keeper, for which she received the American Library As sociation's Margaret Alexander Edwards Award. She lives in New Ha mpshire with her husband and three children. Visit her website at JodiPicoult.com. From The Washington Post Reviewed by Frances T aliaferro Early in Nineteen Minutes, Detective Patrick Ducharme walks through a deserted crime scene. Artifacts have been left be hind: the Wonder-bread sandwiches scarred by only one bite; the t ub of Cherry Bomb lip gloss . . . the salt-and-pepper composition notebooks filled with study sheets on Aztec civilization and mar gin notes about the current one: I luv Zach S!!! It's eerily ordi nary -- until you notice the dead bodies. This is the cafeteria of Sterling (N.H.) High School, shortly after a gunman has killed 10 people and wounded many others. His rampage lasted 19 minutes . As the prosecutor will later point out, In nineteen minutes, yo u can mow the front lawn, color your hair, watch a third of a hoc key game. You can bake scones or get a tooth filled by a dentist. You can fold laundry for a family of five. Or . . . you can brin g the world to a screeching halt. There's never any doubt that t he gunman was Peter Houghton, a 17-year-old student. Hundreds of witnesses confirm it. Now, justice must be accomplished -- proper ly, and not by an angry mob. It won't be easy in this small town where everybody is connected. Peter's mother, for instance, is th e midwife who delivered Josie Cormier. Peter and Josie were best friends until puberty hit and Josie became a cool girl while Pete r remained a nerd. Matt Royston, Josie's dazzling boyfriend, was Peter's last victim. Josie's mother, Alex Cormier, is the judge w ho will try Peter's case -- unless she can be brought to recuse h erself. And these are only the most salient connections. Dozens o f others must be traced as the authorities piece together why the shooting happened. Parent-child relationships are central to Ni neteen Minutes. When you're a teenager, the fact of parents is un avoidable, even when they're not very good at being parents. For Josie's single mother, it's easy to be a judge and hard to be a m other; everything she says comes out wrong. To Peter, his parents seem equally inept and obtuse. But then, most adolescents find t heir parents wanting; so how does a normal teenage worldview turn into a homicidal one? As Picoult answers this question, the soc iology of Sterling High School comes to life: nerds and jocks and brains, adults from another planet, school as heaven or hell. Fo r many of us, high school meant self-discovery complicated by acn e, prom anxiety and the perfidy of other teenagers. Though we've never been homecoming queen or most valuable player, we've made o ur peace with our own uncoolness. But at Sterling, a nerd doesn't have that relief. Bullying doesn't officially exist -- ask any g rown-up -- but if you're a nerd, you know what to expect. At the very least, cool girls will look at you as if you were a bug on t he windshield. If you're lucky, the abuse will be verbal: The guy s will call you freak or homo or retard. On a bad day, they'll cr ush your glasses or stuff you into a locker. Torment could come f rom any direction at any time, and you live in the adolescent ver sion of post-traumatic stress disorder. For some adult characters in the novel, this diagnosis is news, but no teenager would be s urprised to hear it. Certainly the reader is not surprised to he ar about HIDE-N-SHRIEK, the video game Peter created, in which th e underdog gets a chance to annihilate the bullies with weapons f ound in any school building. Peter's ingenuity is appalling and p athetic and almost valiant; like Josie, he's a person of moral co mplexity. The adult characters, however, tend to be one-sided a nd given to making snappy comebacks with a frequency that's enter taining but not plausible. The judge has such gumption and good s ense that her refrain of maternal inadequacy just doesn't ring tr ue. Picoult is the author of 13 other novels, most of them widel y popular, but I came to Nineteen Minutes with no previous Picoul t experience. It's absorbing and expertly made. On one level, it' s a thriller, complete with dismaying carnage, urgent discoveries and 11th-hour revelations, but it also asks serious moral questi ons about the relationship between the weak and the strong, quest ions that provide what school people call teachable moments. If c ompassion can be taught, Picoult may be just the one to teach it. Copyright 2007, The Washington Post. All Rights Reserved. Ex cerpt. ® Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Nineteen Minutes A novelBy Jodi Picoult Atria Copyright © 2007Jodi Picou lt All right reserved. ISBN: 9780743496728 March 6, 2007 In nine teen minutes, you can mow the front lawn, color your hair, watch a third of a hockey game. In nineteen minutes, you can bake scone s or get a tooth filled by a dentist; you can fold laundry for a family of five. Nineteen minutes is how long it took the Tenness ee Titans to sell out of tickets to the play-offs. It's the lengt h of a sitcom, minus the commercials. It's the driving distance f rom the Vermont border to the town of Sterling, New Hampshire. I n nineteen minutes, you can order a pizza and get it delivered. Y ou can read a story to a child or have your oil changed. You can walk a mile. You can sew a hem. In nineteen minutes, you can sto p the world, or you can just jump off it. In nineteen minutes, y ou can get revenge. As usual, Alex Cormier was running late. It took thirty-two minutes to drive from her house in Sterling to th e superior court in Grafton County, New Hampshire, and that was o nly if she speeded through Orford. She hurried downstairs in her stockings, carrying her heels and the files she'd brought home wi th her over the weekend. She twisted her thick copper hair into a knot and anchored it at the base of her neck with bobby pins, tr ansforming herself into the person she needed to be before she le ft her house. Alex had been a superior court judge now for thirt y-four days. She'd believed that, having proved her mettle as a d istrict court judge for the past five years, this time around the appointment might be easier. But at forty, she was still the you ngest judge in the state. She still had to fight to establish her self as a fair justice -- her history as a public defender preced ed her into her courtroom, and prosecutors assumed she'd side wit h the defense. When Alex had sub, Atria Books, 2007, 3, Picador, 1998. Hardback. Very Good. A copy that has been read, but is in excellent condition. Pages are intact and not marred by notes or highlighting. The spine remains undamaged. In 1952, Malachy McCourt left a childhood of poverty in Limerick, Ireland, heading for the promise of America. This is the story of what he brought w ith him, and what he thought he left behind. Larger than life, a world-class drinker, McCourt carved out a place for him self in New York City: in the saloons, as the first celebrity bartender, mi xing with socialites, writers, and movie stars, on stage and on television, where the tales he spun made him a Tonight Show regular. He had money and women and, eventually, children of his own; and that's whe n he found he had not left his memories as far behind as he had thought. H e had no choice but to stop and turn and face his past. Darkly funny, shockingly raw, and everywhere making the English language do tricks the British never intended, Malachy McCourt, a true original, tells this story with passion, wit, irreverence, and charm., Picador, 1998, 3<

1998, ISBN: 9780330361125

Mikasa Shobo. Good. / ! () / / 15.2 x 10.8 x 1.4 cm / 0.16 kg, Mikasa Shobo, 2.5, Revell. Used - Good. Former library book; may include library markings. Used book that is in clean, … Plus…

Mikasa Shobo. Good. / ! () / / 15.2 x 10.8 x 1.4 cm / 0.16 kg, Mikasa Shobo, 2.5, Revell. Used - Good. Former library book; may include library markings. Used book that is in clean, average condition without any missing pages., Revell, 2.5, Picador, 1998. Hardback. Very Good. A copy that has been read, but is in excellent condition. Pages are intact and not marred by notes or highlighting. The spine remains undamaged. In 1952, Malachy McCourt left a childhood of poverty in Limerick, Ireland, heading for the promise of America. This is the story of what he brought w ith him, and what he thought he left behind. Larger than life, a world-class drinker, McCourt carved out a place for him self in New York City: in the saloons, as the first celebrity bartender, mi xing with socialites, writers, and movie stars, on stage and on television, where the tales he spun made him a Tonight Show regular. He had money and women and, eventually, children of his own; and that's whe n he found he had not left his memories as far behind as he had thought. H e had no choice but to stop and turn and face his past. Darkly funny, shockingly raw, and everywhere making the English language do tricks the British never intended, Malachy McCourt, a true original, tells this story with passion, wit, irreverence, and charm., Picador, 1998, 3<

1998, ISBN: 9780330361125

Picador, 1998. Hardback. Very Good. A copy that has been read, but is in excellent condition. Pages are intact and not marred by notes or highlighting. The spine remains undamaged. In 1… Plus…

Picador, 1998. Hardback. Very Good. A copy that has been read, but is in excellent condition. Pages are intact and not marred by notes or highlighting. The spine remains undamaged. In 1952, Malachy McCourt left a childhood of poverty in Limerick, Ireland, heading for the promise of America. This is the story of what he brought w ith him, and what he thought he left behind. Larger than life, a world-class drinker, McCourt carved out a place for him self in New York City: in the saloons, as the first celebrity bartender, mi xing with socialites, writers, and movie stars, on stage and on television, where the tales he spun made him a Tonight Show regular. He had money and women and, eventually, children of his own; and that's whe n he found he had not left his memories as far behind as he had thought. H e had no choice but to stop and turn and face his past. Darkly funny, shockingly raw, and everywhere making the English language do tricks the British never intended, Malachy McCourt, a true original, tells this story with passion, wit, irreverence, and charm., Picador, 1998, 3<