Thriller Book Reading Quotes

She understood now why her friend Elizabeth, with her near-genius, analytical mind gave wide berth to murder mysteries, psychological thrillers, and horror stories, and read only romance novels. Because, by God, when a woman picked up one of those steamy books, she had a firm guarantee that there would be a Happily-Ever-After. That though the world outside those covers could bring such sorrow and disappointment and loneliness, between those covers, the world was a splendid place to be.

This book is dedicated to my children, Pi, Coco, and Jay. When your grandkids are old enough to read this book, tell them how much I loved you.

Please stop patronizing those who are reading a book - The Da Vinci Code, maybe- because they are enjoying it. For a start, none of us know what kind of an effort this represents for the individual reader. It could be his or her first full-length adult novel; it might be the book that finally reveals the purpose and joy of reading to someone who has hitherto been mystified by the attraction books exert on others. And anyway, reading for enjoyment is what we should all be doing. I don't mean we should all be reading chick lit or thrillers (although if that's what you want to read, it's fine by me, because here's something no one else will tell you: if you don't read the classics, or the novel that won this year's Booker Prize, then nothing bad will happen to you; more importantly,nothing good will happen to you if you do); I simply mean that turning pages should not be like walking through thick mud. The whole purpose of books is that we read them, and if you find you can't, it might not be your inadequacy that's to blame. "Good" books can be pretty awful sometimes.

We shouldn’t assume that women and girls don’t know the difference between reality and fantasy. We don’t fear that men who read murder mysteries and thrillers are going to have a hard time not becoming serial killers, so why should we assume that a girl won’t know that she doesn’t have to change from a mermaid to human in order to find love just because of a movie?

I think, as readers, we all have a comfort read, the one book that protects us in the exact ways it needs to—whether it is a romance or erotica or a thriller or a crime story or a fantasy. A book that we find ourselves in, like looking in a mirror. Oh, you, too? It will ask, as it fills that soft, hollow place in your heart that nothing else dared to touch. I think we all deserve a book like that, whatever yours is.

Use your intuition. Picture how things happen, why they happen. Don’t stick rigidly to first impressions, and once you’ve read the rule book, throw it away. Better still, burn the bastard.

I recommend readers to be adventurous and to try things they’ve never heard of or considered reading before. Get out of the comfort zone and discover something new and exciting. If you’d never be caught dead in the mystery section go and read some George Pelecanos, Dennis Lehane, Michael Connelly or many others. If you only read thrillers get deep into the literary fiction aisle and let yourself be seduced. If you only read non-fiction pick up a Ian McDonald novel or a Joyce Carol Oates novel. If you only read comic books, get acquainted with the great Charles Dickens or a certain Monsieur Dumas. Pick up something at random and read a page. Feel the texture of the language, the architecture of the imagery, the perfume of the style… There’s so much beauty, intelligence and excitement to be had between the pages of the books waiting for you at your local bookstore the only thing you need to bring is an open mind and a sense of adventure. Disregard all prejudices, all pre-conceived notions and all the rubbish some people try to make you think. Think for yourself. Regarding books or anything in life. Think for yourself.

He wasn’t a reader of anything serious, but he had set himself the task of reading Walter Isaacson’s biography of Jobs, after which he entertained the idea of committing himself to a stay on the subcontinent in a hermitage to learn about Indian religions. He could find a yogi to give him the spiritual insights he sought. That would get him away from his boring wife and kids for a year at least, and who knew, maybe he could finagle a way never to come back.

Fast reading of a great novel will get us the plot. It will get us names, a shadowy idea of characters, a sketch of settings. It will not get us subtleties, small differentiations, depth of emotion and observation, multilayered human experience, the appreciation of simile and metaphor, any sense of context, any comparison with other novels, other writers. Fast reading will not get us cadence and complexities of style and language. It will not get us anything that enters not just the conscious mind but the unconscious. It will not allow the book to burrow down into our memory and become part of ourselves, the accumulation of knowledge and wisdom and vicarious experience which helps to form us as complete human beings. It will not develop our awareness or add to the sum of our knowledge and intelligence. Read parts of a newspaper quickly or an encyclopaedia entry, or a fast-food thriller, but do not insult yourself or a book which has been created with its author's painstakingly acquired skill and effort, by seeing how fast you can dispose of it.

She might not have read many books. But when she reads a book, she swallows the very words. If you open the books on her shelves, you will find that the front and back covers encase white pages.

My ears become my conduit to the world. In the darkness I listen—to thrillers, to detective novels, to romances; to family sagas, potboilers and historical novels; to ghost stories and classic fiction and chick lit; to bonkbusters and history books. I listen to good books and bad books, great books and terrible books; I do not discriminate. Steadily, hour after hour, in the darkness I consume them all.

There were adventure stories supplied with cloths for mopping your brow, thrillers containing pressed leaves of soothing valerian to be sniffed when the suspense became too great, and books with stout locks sealed by the Atlantean censorship authorities ("Sale permitted, reading prohibited!"). One shop sold nothing but 'half' works that broke off in the middle because their author had died while writing them; another specialised in novels whose protagonists were insects. I also saw a Wolperting shop that sold nothing but books on chess and another patronised exclusively by dwarfs with blond beards, all of whom wore eye-shades.

Miss Lasqueti consumed mostly crime thrillers, which constantly seemed to disappoint her. I suspect that for her the world was more accidental than any book’s plot. Twice I saw her so irritated by a mystery that she half rose from the shadow of her chair and flung the paperback over the railing into the sea.

Fast reading of a great novel will get us the plot. It will get us names, a shadowy idea of characters, a sketch of settings. It will not get us subtleties, small differentiations, depth of emotion and observation, multilayered human experience, the appreciation of simile and metaphor, any sense of context, any comparison with other novels, other writers. Fast reading will not get us cadence and complexities of style and language. It will not get us anything that enters not just the conscious mind but the unconscious. It will not allow the book to burrow down into our memory and become part of ourselves, the accumulation of knowledge and wisdom and vicarious experience which helps to form us as complete human beings. It will not develop our awareness or add to the sum of our knowledge and intelligence. Read parts of a newspaper quickly or an encyclopaedia entry, or a fast-food thriller, but do not insult yourself or a book which has been created with its author's painstakingly acquired skill and effort, by seeing how fast you can dispose of it

Readers often tell me after they've read the books, they find it difficult to sum up the plot in a simple way. My response is, "It's a story about the love a father shares for his daughter. All the rest is just filler." - MJ Mancini, on his best-selling trilogy, "Revelation".

She poisoned my life with a secret. One that must be guarded with lies. But I read once in a poetry book that a lie is but the truth in masquerade, so I am not afraid, for this past year I have survived by subterfuge and pretence.

I could just slit your throat and go back to reading.

Does it matter, when you read, if the person who wrote still lives?

No hens or foxes were harmed in the making of this book.

The ocean of knowledge is profound and the deeper you dive, the more insight you will gain from it.

The universe is a library, and most of you are illiterate. What do you wish to know, boy?

I have managed not to finish certain books. With barely a twinge of conscience, I hurl down what bores me or doesn't give what I crave: ecstasy, transcendence, a thrill of mysterious connection. For, more than anything else, readers are thrill-seekers, though I don't read thrillers, not the kind sold under that label, anyway. They don't thrill; only language thrills.

A book can be altered little by little, just enough with each teaching, to slowly change the meaning. The generation before would praise the reading of it but hardly recognize the minimal changes from one version to the next.

There is only one motive for writing a novel: to be published and read. To me there is no distinction between the mystery novel and the novel, only between good books and bad books. A good book takes the reader into a new world of experience; it is an experiment. A bad book, unless the writing is inept, reinforces the intransigent attitude of the reader not to experiment with a new world. Since there are criminals and psychopaths and sociopaths in all my novels they are in a way psychological thrillers.

Before I start a film or a play, I try to build a world in my mind. An imaginative world which the character lives in; and I create that with novels, with painting, with music, with films. I try and understand tone. Tone is so important. Is this a thriller, is this a Gothic romance, is this an action film, is this a love story? Then, once I understand that, I just jump into it. This might be like an incomplete way of describing it, but it's like I build a swimming pool, then I just dive in. Do you know what I mean?

This particular book was especially good escape reading. A real thriller. The writing was good. The plot was entertaining. The characters were colorful. She enjoyed it.

She decided to pass the time with a book. Books were good therapy. You could lose yourself in a book, forget your troubles, your fear.

What do you read after the Hunger Games? Start the Octagon series for just 99c - Limited Time Only. For Sale on Amazon Kindle

Frank, have you seen today’s obits?” Gerald asked. “Never look at them,” I replied. “I only read the comics, sports, and horoscopes.” “Can’t you see I’m being serious?” “Who bit the dust, then?

Everything is an echo of something I once read. Dream, hope, and celebrate life! Love always comes back in a song. One thing we all have in common is a love for food and drink. Memories never die, and dreams never end! What is time?

It was love. That pure, naive, untarnished emotion which seeds into you when you read fairy tales. Listen to honey-imbued words served by melodious voices. Avoid looking at your bitter squabbling parents. It skulked into me, making me its home.

Guts,” never much of a word outside the hunting season, was a favorite noun in literary prose. People were said to have or to lack them, to perceive beauty and make moral distinctions in no other place. “Gut-busting” and “gut-wrenching” were accolades. “Nerve-shattering,” “eye-popping,” “bone-crunching”—the responsive critic was a crushed, impaled, electrocuted man. “Searing” was lukewarm. Anything merely spraining or tooth-extracting would have been only a minor masterpiece. “Literally,” in every single case, meant figuratively; that is, not literally. This film will literally grab you by the throat. This book will literally knock you out of your chair… Sometimes the assault mode took the form of peremptory orders. See it. Read it. Go at once…Many sentences carried with them their own congratulations, Suffice it to say…or, The only word for it is…Whether it really sufficed to say, or whether there was, in fact, another word, the sentence, bowing and applauding to itself, ignored…There existed also an economical device, the inverted-comma sneer—the “plot,” or his “work,” or even “brave.” A word in quotation marks carried a somehow unarguable derision, like “so-called” or “alleged…” “He has suffered enough” meant if we investigate this matter any further, it will turn out our friends are in it, too… Murders, generally, were called brutal and senseless slayings, to distinguish them from all other murders; nouns thus became glued to adjectives, in series, which gave an appearance of shoring them up… Intelligent people, caught at anything, denied it. Faced with evidence of having denied it falsely, people said they had not done it and had not lied about it, and didn’t remember it, but if they had done it or lied about it, they would have done it and misspoken themselves about it in an interest so much higher as to alter the nature of doing and lying altogether. It was in the interest of absolutely nobody to get to the bottom of anything whatever. People were no longer “caught” in the old sense on which most people could agree. Induction, detection, the very thrillers everyone was reading were obsolete. The jig was never up. In every city, at the same time, therapists earned their living by saying, “You’re being too hard on yourself.

He read legal thrillers by John Grisham and the entire Song of Ice and Fire series. He was a big fan of Tyrion Lannister. Tim knew there was a TV show based on the Martin books, but felt no need to watch it; his imagination provided all the dragons he needed.

On his days off, he sometimes slept for twelve hours at a stretch. He read legal thrillers by John Grisham and the entire Song of Ice and Fire series. He was a big fan of Tyrion Lannister. Tim knew there was a TV show based on the Martin books, but felt no need to watch it; his imagination provided all the dragons he needed.

The old man walked over to his sandalwood bookshelves. He couldn’t decide whether to read Balzac or Voltaire. Clotilde de Lusignan or Micromégas. His forefinger hovered over both the hardback books before he plumped instead for the eroticism of Goethe’s Roman Elegies. The old man had amassed a lifetime of learning. The killings aside, he led an oddly monastic life.

In the same library book that taught me about Theia and how the moon was made, I read that Earth travels two hundred million miles around the sun between fall and spring. Some people die without ever having left their hometown, and yet they could be ninety million miles from where they were born. We're all just ants, riding a bus on a highway too long to comprehend.

Thrillers, like all genre fiction, remain for the most part “beneath.” There is a feeling in literature, more than any other art form, that books meant to simply entertain must be flawed. There is an entire cache of what critics call “beach reads,” books that are disposable, forgettable, anti-literary. And this is where I have changed the most as a reader and also as a writer. As I began to dig in to a lot of thrillers, I came to believe that entertainment and reading for pleasure can be transcendent; that while art might be a hammer it is also a mirror, changeable and subjective. And there is a point where the boundary of the thriller genre rubs hard against a much more vast literary tradition. A lot of great writers exist on this axis.

I believe reading is about experiencing joy, and that we learn something about ourselves, and the world, with every book we read, whether a romance, biography, mass-market thriller, or a literary novel. ...We may agree, or we may not, on what's a good book; readers differ all the time on the quality of a book. When it comes to reading, the only opinion that should matter is our own.

How can they possibly know such things? No member of this family reads novels, except for mass-market bestsellers, clichéd thrillers with contrived plots, idiotic romances or discounted pseudoeroticism. And so forth. They drag the books around with them during the summer, glancing at a few lines and then quickly going back to their preferred activities—catching up on the latest gossip and convincing themselves that the life they’ve chosen is better than it is. Voilà. The absence of literature, among my children, is the most crushing failure of my existence. It’s not yours, Hélène, I know. You used to reproach my passion for reading. My dilettantism—you used to say there are so many other more interesting and certainly more useful things to do—fixing things around the house, rearranging the furniture, laundry, cooking. Don’t misunderstand me. I did my share of household chores, you can’t say otherwise, but it was never enough.

Teachers lose credibility with students when they ignore the cultural trends & issues that interest them & instead design classroom reading instruction around books that are "good for you." There is a certain amount of disdain from teachers in regard to popular fiction for children because some of those books are mind candy, but I’d bet that some of those teachers go home & read escapist books like Shopaholic or a James Patterson thriller & never make a connection. Are we teaching books or teaching readers?

Literature is the extant body of written art. All novels belong to it. The value judgement concealed in distinguishing one novel as literature and another as genre vanishes with the distinction. Every readable novel can give true pleasure. Every novel read by choice is read because it gives true pleasure. Literature consists of many genres, including mystery, science fiction, fantasy, naturalism, realism, magical realism, graphic, erotic, experimental, psychological, social, political, historical, bildungsroman, romance, western, army life, young adult, thriller, etc., etc…. and the proliferating cross-species and subgenres such as erotic Regency, noir police procedural, or historical thriller with zombies. Some of these categories are descriptive, some are maintained largely as marketing devices. Some are old, some new, some ephemeral. Genres exist, forms and types and kinds of fiction exist and need to be understood: but no genre is inherently, categorically superior or inferior. (Hypothesis on Literature vs. Genre)

When you read books on your Kindle, the data about which phrases you highlight, which pages you turn, and whether you read straight through or skip around are all fed back into Amazon’s servers and can be used to indicate what books you might like next. When you log in after a day reading Kindle e-books at the beach, Amazon is able to subtly customize its site to appeal to what you’ve read: If you’ve spent a lot of time with the latest James Patterson, but only glanced at that new diet guide, you might see more commercial thrillers and fewer health books.

I've always loved reading. When I was in first grade I became fascinated by time travel in the Magic Treehouse series. My love for magic continued into the second grade when I was reading Harry Potter, and then the following year I really got interested in history. So in fifth grade I decided to write a book that I would love to read. I decided to combine time travel, magic, and history, and created the Stone of Discedo. It's a time-traveling stone that requires the user to first fix three terrible events in history before they change anything in their own life, and that became the foundation for the story of One Chance.

I traveled those book-walled corridors, bathed in the odor of yellowing paper and musty cloth bindings. I felt as if the London of Dickens and the Arab world of Burton and a thousand other worlds of a thousand other writers were here to be breathed in and assimilated almost without the necessity of reading, as if they were mushrooms that had thrown off pungent clouds of pollen which, on inhalation, fertilized the mind and the imagination. I longed to pluck a volume off a shelf and escape into its pages, for even the nightmare worlds of Lovecraft, Poe, or Bram Stoker would be more appealing than the real world in which we had to live.

deeply into pile carpeting that threatens to swallow us whole. A burnished steel FTW logo stretches across the wall with the tagline Feeding the World just below it. Black-and-white photos of basic foodstuffs dot the walls—bushels of maize and soybeans, fields of grain. Feeding the world, my ass, I think as we’re shuttled toward a meeting room. I’ve done some reading up on these folks. FTW is a commodity-trading firm that works to manipulate the futures market to drive up prices. There seems to be nothing that the world’s bankers believe they shouldn’t be free to exploit, including food staples. I imagine that in their perfect world, bankers would pocket a penny or two with every bite.

Taut, intelligent, and intense suspense that is deeply human.”—Mark Greaney, New York Times Bestselling Author of Gunmetal Gray “Exciting and well-layered....David Bell is a master storyteller with a sure hand at crafting characters you feel for and stories you relish.”—Allen Eskens, USA Today Bestselling Author of The Life We Bury “A tense and twisty suspense novel about the dark secrets that lie buried within a community and a father who can save his daughter only by uncovering them. Will leave parents wondering just how well they truly know their children.”—Hester Young, author of The Gates of Evangeline and The Shimmering Road “A gripping, immersive tour-de-force full of twists and turns. BRING HER HOME kept me flipping the pages late into the night. Don’t expect to sleep until you’ve finished reading this book. I could not put it down!”—A. J. Banner, bestselling author of The Good Neighbor and The Twilight Wife “In David Bell’s riveting BRING HER HOME, the unthinkable is only the beginning. From there, the story races through stunning twists all the way to its revelation, without letting its heart fall away in the action. Intense, emotional, and deeply satisfying. This one will keep you up late into the night. Don't miss it!”—Jamie Mason, author of Three Graves Full and Monday’s Lie “Spellbinding and pulse-raising, BRING HER HOME hooked me from the first sentence and surprised me until the final pages. Sharply written and richly observed, this book is about the secrets we keep, the mysteries that keep us, and the lengths a father will go to for the daughter he loves. David Bell is a masterful storyteller who has perfected the art of suspense in BRING HER HOME.”—Sarah Domet, author of The Guineveres

The story begins with the revelation Alicia murdered her husband. Why do you think the author made this admission at the very start?   2.  Alicia’s diary plays a key role in the book. What purpose do you think it serves? And does your perception of Alicia change the more you read?   3.  Alicia’s silence is related to the Greek myth of Alcestis. How do you feel about the story of the myth? Why do you think Alicia is silent?   4.  Theo’s motives to work with Alicia are complicated. Do you think he wanted to help her?   5.  Both Alicia and Theo had difficult childhoods. Early on, Theo says no one is born evil. That who we become depends on the environment into which we are born. By the end of the novel he appears to change his mind, saying that perhaps some of us are born evil, and, despite therapy, we remain that way. Which do you think is true?   6.  Weather plays a large role in the book, such as the heat wave during the summer. What purpose do you think the description of the weather serves in the novel?   7.  Do you think the world of a psychiatric unit was convincingly portrayed? How do you feel about Diomedes and the other psychiatrists?   8.  We never enter Kathy’s mind in the book. Do you have any sympathy for her?   9.  What do you think happens at the end of the book? The last line is ambiguous. 10.  It’s a psychological thriller with a twist. The author has said he was influenced by Agatha Christie. Did you feel this was simply a detective story or are there any other influences you can spot?

The release of the book just tomorrow. Get ready for a good dose of adrenaline ;-) Meanwhile, I have for you next article. Let’s talk about terroritstic activity in Afghanistan. The problem with which we are dealing today almost everywhere. And turning back to the Wild Heads of War, in the book you will find a lot of military action in Afghanistan, led by NATO soldiers. One of them was my friend, who in 2009 was killed by IED (Improvised Explosive Device). The book tells the stories based on fiction but for all fans of the genre it will be surely good story. Article below made just to bring you closer to terroritstic activity in Afghanistan, that is, what is worth knowing by reading Wild Heads of War. Stabilization mission in Afghanistan belongs to one of the most dangerous. The problem is in the unremitting terroristic activity. The basis is war, which started in 1979 after USSR invasion. Soviets wanted to take control of Afghanistan by fighting with Mujahideen powered by US forces. Conflict was bloody since the beginning and killed many people. Consequence of all these happenings was activation of Taliban under the Osama Bin Laden’s leadership. The situation became exacerbated after the downfall of Hussein and USA/coalition forces intervention. NATO army quickly took control and started realizing stabilization mission. Afghans consider soldiers to be aggressors and occupants. Taliban, radical Muslims, treat battle ideologically. Due to inconsistent forces, the battle is defined to be irregular. Taliban’s answer to strong, well-equiped Coalition Army is partisan war and terroristic attacks. Taliban do not dispose specialistic military equipment. They are mostly equipped with AK-47. However, they specialized in creating mines and IED (Improvised Explosive Device). They also captured huge part of weapons delivered to Afghan government by USA. Terroristic activity is also supported by poppy and opium crops, smuggling drugs. Problem in fighting with Afghan terrorists is also caused by harsh terrain and support of local population, which confesses islam. After refuting the Taliban in 2001, part of al Qaeda combatants found shelter on the borderland of Afghanistan and Pakistan. Afghan terrorists are also trained there.

Essay: Scientific Advances are Ruining Science Fiction I write science fiction thrillers for a living, set five to ten years in the future, an exercise that allows me to indulge my love of science, futurism, and philosophy, and to examine in fine granularity the impact of approaching revolutions in technology. But here is the problem: I’d love to write pure science fiction, set hundreds of years in the future. Why don’t I? I guess the short answer is that to do so, I’d have to turn a blind eye to everything I believe will be true hundreds of years from now. Because the truth is that books about the future of humanity, such as Kurzweil’s The Singularity is Near, have ruined me. As a kid, I read nothing but science fiction. This was a genre that existed to examine individuals and societies through the lens of technological and scientific change. The best of this genre always focused on human beings as much as technology, something John W. Campbell insisted upon when he ushered in what is widely known as the Golden Age of Science Fiction. But for the most part, writers in past generations could feel confident that men and women would always be men and women, at least for many thousands of years to come. We might develop technology that would give us incredible abilities. Go back and forth through time, travel to other dimensions, or travel through the galaxy in great starships. But no matter what, in the end, we would still be Grade A, premium cut, humans. Loving, lusting, and laughing. Scheming and coveting. Crying, shouting, and hating. We would remain ambitious, ruthless, and greedy, but also selfless and heroic. Our intellects and motivations in this far future would not be all that different from what they are now, and if we lost a phaser battle with a Klingon, the Grim Reaper would still be waiting for us.

If you ever had to deal with difficult employees and used industrial relations procedures, this book is for you. If you're a manager, supervisor, legislator, trade union official or politician, you need to read this and how it impacts managers. It seems "workers" are more than accommodated. This book takes things to extremes when outdated legislation doesn't work.

I once knew a guy that had the time to exercise twice a day, had time to read two books a week, and had all his meals cooked for him, and yet, he still complained about how much he hated prison.

there were books and authors to be discovered. A lifetime of reading lay ahead. Old books, new books, classics, thrillers, stories short and tall, travelogues, histories, biographies, comedies, comic strips, poems, memories, fantasies, fables…The adventure would end only when the lights went out for ever.

在澳办毕业证咨询【Q微2026614433】办（UTS高仿毕业证UTS毕业证成绩单认证书）购买悉尼科技大学毕业证2021最新版本文凭。 Ruby Falls will sweep you headfirst into the life of Eleanor Russell, an actress setting up house in the glamorous Hollywood Hills with her handsome new husband, Orlando. Secrets abound in this bang of a book, a haunting tale sure to give readers chills. A stunner with some serious Gothic vibes." --Kimberly Belle, internationally bestselling author of "Dear Wife" and "Stranger in the Lake" "A tribute to Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca, this unnerving story about a Hollywood starlet haunted by her past will captivate you right up until the shocking ending. A must-read for anyone who loves an expertly plotted thriller with multidimensional characters." --Emily Liebert, USA Today bestselling author of "Perfectly Famous" "In 1968, young Ruby Russell loses her father while touring an underground cave. She recalls the moment his hand left hers, and nearly twenty years later, his disappearance remains a mystery. Ruby has reinvented herself as Eleanor Russell, married the man of her dreams, and is acting in a feature film. But as her new life begins to go awry, the mystery surrounding her past and present collide in a well-crafted and head spinning twist that I did not see coming. Ruby Falls is a skillfully plotted page turner!" --Wendy Walker, national bestselling author of "Don't Look for Me" "What a lovely ride! With fun twists and whip-smart language, clever Deborah Goodrich Royce leads readers down a familiar path--until she doesn't. Lyrical and filled with page-turning suspense, I gulped every word and enjoyed every bite. I promise Ruby Falls will become your next favorite book!" --Maureen Joyce Connolly, author of "Little Lovely Things" "Ruby Falls is a fantastic combination of a sweeping Hollywood story folde

There’s nothing like curling up with a hot cup of coffee, a cozy blanket, and the most gruesome horror novel you can find.

When I pick, I like plays. You know. I get to ham it up. Read all the parts. Right now, we're nearly done with A Midsummer Night's Dream. Then she'll choose something." "Isn't that Shakespeare?" asked Evon. and ad bib "You don't think there's room for Shakespeare in my common little mind?" "I didn't mean that." "Yes you did. Hey, listen, we've done all the classic comedies in the last year. Tartuffe. The Importance of Being Earnest. The Man Who Came to Dinner. We're having a great time. You know, sometimes she likes a break, so I'll read her a novel. She likes all the law guys." He showed her the next one they'd take up, Mitigating Circumstances, which was on a table downstairs. His mother-in-law, with her fatal touch, had brought a number of books that nei ther Rainey nor he much cared for, self-help guides, even a couple of picture books of far-off places written for juveniles.

I read some Latin, not fluently. Ovid and Seneca were in Greek.

In some small towns, the worst kind of villains, hide in plain sight. - Welcome to Ravenwood

I am tired. I’ve been trying so hard not to be me. For a very long while, I am trying to be someone else against the wound woman hidden inside a soul prison buried in myself, and it’s hurting you. Somehow, you should’ve seen it. You should’ve read me. It hurts badly. I know it hurts you because it hurts me too.

She read the route over and over, hoping it would suddenly change, and she wouldn’t have to make that stop. But every time she blinked her eyes, wishing it would be different, it stared back at her through the screen. Those eight letters and two syllables stirred up painful memories of the life she’d spent years running away from. Curesall.

The Alternate Girlfriend by Declan Conner is a psychological thriller book set in modern times of a boy who fell in love with an AI after his whole world came crumbling down as he lost people in his life one by one. In need of someone to talk to his only option was an AI companion, this is a book worth reading especially in this AI era.

I get up, my legs weak and my body still shaking. My black dagger claws are cutting through the blades of grass, slicing them upon impact. The little piece of my tail scurries over the new land under my webbed feet. I haven’t been out in the “real world", hmmm, when was the last time? Never!

I'm in love with the fact that declan Conner's book "The Alternate Girlfriend" brings out so many positive messages and themes that strike me as real. First and foremost, the character of Douglas Carter is so inspiring. Despite his condition, autism and all it comes with, Doug shows caring intelligence and perseverance. I learned how everybody has unique strengths, along with those being the exact ingredients in helping us face life challenges. I could also see through the events that go on with the AI, Donna, how it brings up important questions about the responsibilities of creators of new, high-tech. I found myself reflecting on how these themes apply in our real world with its rapidly advancing technology. That is one of the thought-provoking aspects, and I think future readers are going to rigorously reflect on the implications of their work and innovations. It's a compelling read, joining a gripping plot with deep reverberations around technology, ethics, and personal resilience. The characters are very well crafted, real, relatable, and seem to be there even after finishing a read. This was wonderful to read.

It’s amazing how much sex can loosen someone up.” I nearly spat out my drink. “Are you trying to traumatize me?” I asked, appalled. “That’s my mother you’re talking about.” “Sorry, I thought you were already traumatized from seeing your parents in bed—” She broke off with a squeal of laughter when I pulled her toward me and pinned her to the ground. “Finish that sentence, and I’ll hide all your thrillers until you read every word of The Divine Comedy,” I threatened. “The Latin translated version.” Her laughter vanished. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Try me.” “If you do that… I’ll withhold sex until you put the books back.” “Darling, we both know you would cave before I did.” Isabella arched one brow. “Wanna bet?

He remembered the Dune novels he used to read as a kid and the huge sand worms that would rise up and swallow anything on the surface that moved. He felt like food for a sand worm now.

And now she must continue the day as if the strange dream hadn’t picked up her life and shaken it upside down like a snow globe, dislodging everything that wasn’t glued down." The Dream Jumper's Promise

I can’t believe I ever thought reading to her was a chore. I’d sit here some nights, fidgeting, thinking of all the things I needed to do, my voice hoarse, reluctant to read, ‘just one more chapter,’ wishing I could escape to my glass of wine. What did I have to do that was so important? What could be more important than reading my daughter a bedtime story?

the partition was rolled up for ventilation, and she was lying in her hammock reading one of the books Vernon had brought, a thriller called utopia.

This is how our long chats begin. We once joked we should have an agenda, and now we kind of do: work, relationships, family. Then everything else. Whatever comes up. I let out a sigh, but it does nothing to dispel the knots that have appeared as soon as she mentions work. ‘I did a sudoku puzzle on my lunch break that was more stimulating than my entire day yesterday.’ I started work on the mobile library bus because I loved it so much as a child. I loved choosing a fat, new stack of books to read that week. I loved the nooks and crannies and finding my brother hiding in the thriller section. But, after six years in the job, that isn’t enough any more. ‘Mmm.’ She sucks in her bottom lip,

Forgive me for rating my own book and wanting to read my own book (above). Still monkeying around with this Author Profile page and don't quit know how it works.

Forgive me for rating my own book and wanting to read my own book, etc. (as seen on the Author Profile page) I'm new to this Author Profile jazz and don't quite understand how it all works yet. But I'll get there. Thank you.

average Russian reads three times as many books a year as the average United States citizen.

Advance Praise for THE GREAT NEW ORLEANS KIDNAPPING CASE: RACE, LAW, AND JUSTICE IN THE RECONSTRUCTION ERA "Michael Ross' The Great New Orleans Kidnapping Case has all the elements one might expect from a legal thriller set in nineteenth-century New Orleans. Child abduction and voodoo. 'Quadroons.' A national headline-grabbing trial. Plus an intrepid creole detective.... A terrific job of sleuthing and storytelling, right through to the stunning epilogue." --Lawrence N. Powell, author of The Accidental City: Improvising New Orleans "When little Mollie Digby went missing from her New Orleans home in the summer of 1870, her disappearance became a national sensation. In his compelling new book Michael Ross brings Mollie back. Read The Great New Orleans Kidnapping Case for the extraordinary story it tells--and the complex world it reveals." --Kevin Boyle, author of Arc of Justice: A Saga of Race, Civil Rights, and Murder in the Jazz Age "Michael Ross's account of the 1870 New Orleans kidnapping of a white baby by two African-American women is a gripping narrative of one of the most sensational trials of the post-Civil War South. Even as he draws his readers into an engrossing mystery and detective story, Ross skillfully illuminates some of the most fundamental conflicts of race and class in New Orleans and the region." --Dan T. Carter, University of South Carolina "The Great New Orleans Kidnapping Case is a masterwork of narration, with twists, turns, cliff-hangers, and an impeccable level of telling detail about a fascinating cast of characters. The reader comes away from this immersive experience with a deeper and sadder understanding of the possibilities and limits of Reconstruction." --Stephen Berry, author of House of Abraham: Lincoln and The Todds, a Family Divided by War "The Great New Orleans Kidnapping Case is such a great read that it is easy to forget that the book is a work of history, not fiction. Who kidnapped Mollie Digby? The book, however, is compelling because it is great history. As Ross explores the mystery of Digby's disappearance, he reconstructs the lives not just of the Irish immigrant parents of Mollie Digby and the women of color accused of her kidnapping, but also the broad range of New Orleanians who became involved in the case. The kidnapping thus serves as a lens on the possibilities and uncertainties of Reconstruction, which take on new meanings because of Ross's skillful research and masterful storytelling." --Laura F. Edwards, Duke University

To make the best dicision for a book first check out the title, second check out the cover, third to check out the category what type is it - is it a horror or thriller or it's a psychology - it's important this. Then for sure check out little what's about the book. By openning it and reading the first 3 pages or as much as possible to make your decision!

She leans her head on him again. "I have a secret." she says. He stays silent, touching her face. "I’d like to confide in you." She sits up. "But you have to swear not to tell anyone." She looks at him, raising an eyebrow, before lowering her head and a curtain of hair covers her face. "I’d die of shame." Andrea takes her strands of hair and moves them back. "I swear. Cross my heart, like when we were little. Okay?" he makes a sign on his chest. She nods and takes two deep breaths. "It's a little long. I don’t know where to start." "Take all the time you need." He sits up and plays with the grass while he waits. "Well…." She lifts her clasped hands to her mouth. "I've written two novels," she begins. "Really?" Andrea gasps. "Great! Have they been published?" She nods. "How are they doing?" "Well," she says, decisively. "I’m very happy." "I’ll look you up and have a read." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "I’m under a pseudonym, to be honest." Andrea raises his eyebrows. "Ah, I see. So that you feel more free to express yourself, I guess." Susy shakes her head. That isn’t the reason. "Is it because of the stories? Are they strange?" Susy looks down and puts a finger to her mouth, biting the nail. "A little." "Are they really violent? Do you write Tarantino type stories?" he jokes. "No, no." Andrea senses that they have started a guessing game. One piece of information at a time and then he will get to the answer. "Ah! I’ve got it," he points at her. "Love stories? Or, wait. What are they called....?" He snaps his fingers. "Barbara reads them. Those books with vampires, angels and….." "Paranormal Romance? No, not that either." Andrea scratches his ear. "Thrillers, crime novels, science fiction?" Only biographies and reference books remain. She shakes her head again and Andrea folds his arms in puzzlement. "What books have you written then?" Susy whispers a word, her finger in her mouth, and Andrea doesn’t catch it. He takes away her hand and moves closer to her. "Huh?" "Erotic novels," she says, blushing. Andrea gasps and looks at her, wide-eyed, then bursts out laughing and throws himself onto the ground. He holds his stomach and rolls around. "I don’t believe it..." he says, doubled up with laughter. "I knew I shouldn’t have told you!" she blurts out and starts getting up. Andrea grabs her arm. "Please. Sorry," he says. "It’s just that you don’t seem like a housewife who does S&M in the living room." Susy folds her arms. "No, I don’t write about that kind of fantasy." "What type of fantasy do you write about?" he asks with a mischievous smile. "First love in the classroom? Romance, but with sex?" He waves his eyebrows, amused. "Stupid!" she replies, annoyed. "Alright." He clears his throat. "I won’t make fun of you. I promise. I'm listening." He becomes serious again, biting his lips. Susy

I've always thought hard-boiled detective novels an American art form. At their best, they're more than who-dun-its or thrillers, they're vehicles for a writer's observations about culture, politics, philosophy, music, history and a time or a place. Or life, it’s ownself. When you read James Ellroy, Dashiell Hammett or James Lee Burke, their stories are always about far more than good guys chasing bad guys. That’s the kind of book I wanted to write. Still do.

Incipit del nuovissimo romanzo thriller drammatico "BRANDELLI D'ANIMA", disponibile già in formato ebook in tutti gli store online e presto anche in cartaceo. Buona lettura a tutti

Karimi ordered that the missiles self-destruct, if the mechanism still functioned on the downed missiles. He knew Israel would strike back, the only question was when? He would stay underground facility until the threat was over. When he was able to leave, he would have all of these engineers executed for failing him. He would not tolerate failure. Messengers relayed the news of what was happening top-side. He read the recent document prepared for him by the Iranian news service, which said, “Israel has officially condemned our attempt at nuking their cities, and has said its own response will be forthcoming soon. The United Nations, as always, has asked our two nations to let cooler heads prevail, and said that if Israel escalates the hostility, war could break out, quite possibly dragging the rest of the world into it. Meanwhile, Iraq has declared Mosul a radioactive wasteland. They’re demanding your head, Supreme Ayatollah, and they are vowing to exact revenge for this insult to all Iraqis. There has been no response from Washington.

School children, who have enjoyed reading a romance or a detective thriller or a novel about terror and conquest, make the invariable mistake of studying literature in the college. They make the mistake of learning theory in place of art; they acquire impediments in their own enjoyment of the books by allowing a set of theories to govern their own reading.

He takes my hand and pulls me out of the room. Paul is in the lazy chair with Hayley in his lap, reading a book, and Sam and Pete are on one of the sofas. Matt is alone on the other, so I sit down beside him and lean into his shoulder. He reaches up to tousle my hair and smiles at me. “I’m glad you’re back, kid,” he says. I lean more heavily into him, and he lifts his arm to the back of the sofa so I can nestle into his side. I breathe him in. He’s so much softer than Logan. But the cancer took its toll. He’s lost weight, and he has dark shadows beneath his eyes. “You sure you’re okay?” I whisper to him. He looks down at me and tweaks my nose as Logan pulls my feet into his lap. I lay my head on Matt’s thigh and he leans down to whisper to me. “Quit worrying about me and enjoy being back.” His hand strokes absently down the length of my hair as someone presses “play” to start the movie. I love this gentle giant. The movie starts, and it’s not a thriller or a car chase. There’s no shooting. It’s a love story. My eyes well up with tears, and I scrub them on Matt’s leg. “There’s no place like home,” I say quietly.

I didn’t write it to try to teach anything. My goal was just to figure out for myself what worked and why it worked. That’s what the writing’s about—not the magazine articles so much, but the books. Figuring stuff out.” “Taking other people there too.” “Maybe, hopefully, that happens in the process if I write it right. Which I suppose is why the books sell. And that just shows that there must be a lot of us in the same boat. Maybe most of us.” “So.” Gina hesitated, then figured what the hell. She wanted to know. “What about writer’s block? Do you ever get that?” “No. I don’t.” “Never?” Now Stuart broke one of his first true smiles. “I’m talking to a writer, aren’t I?” Gina lifted her shoulders, let them down. “Halfway through a bad legal thriller. Wondering how you get all the way to the end.” “Just keep going.” “Ha.” “Well, it’s what I do. I suppose I get times where the ideas don’t exactly flow, but the best definition of writer’s block I ever heard was that it was a failure of nerve. It’s not something outside of you, trying to stop you. It’s your own fear that you won’t say it right, or get it right, or won’t be smart or clever enough. But once you acknowledge it’s just fear, you decide you’re not going to let it beat you, and you keep pushing on. Kind of like climbing Whitney. Except that if it’s never any fun, then maybe it’s something inside trying to tell you that you probably don’t want to be a writer. You’re not having fun with your book?” “Not too much. Some. At the beginning. Then I got all hung up on whether anyone would want to read it and if they’d care about my characters and I started writing for them, those imaginary, in-the-future readers, whoever they might be.” “Well, yeah, but that’s not why you write. You write to see where you’re gonna go. At least I do. And in your case, nobody’s paying you for your stuff yet, are they?” “No. Hardly.” “Well, then just do it for yourself and have some fun with it. Or start another story that you like better. Or take up cooking instead. Or get up to the mountains more. But if you want to write, write. A page a day, and in a year you’ve got a book. And anybody who can’t write a page a day…well, there’s a clue that maybe you’re not a writer.” “A page a day…” “Cake,” Stuart said.

James Buchan’s The Persian Bride combines a moving love story, a political thriller, and a history of modern Iran in a beautiful novel about the relationship of two people caught up in the Iranian revolution: John Pitt, a young man from England who arrives in Isfahan, Iran, in 1974, and seventeen-year-old Shirin, one of John’s students, whose father is a general in the shah’s army.

Some thrillers are so engrossing that you want to finish the book. 'Paedophilic Progeny" is one such book. The Detective Atharvaa series is amazing, gripping and with some amazing twists. Do read it on amazon

Her heart still pulsated at cheesy vampire romances and teen dystopian adventures. She was partial to a good biography, particularly by ageing but still glamorous film stars, though never ones by reality TV stars or footballers. Her back chilled when she turned the pages of thrillers with spiky orange capital letters and she brushed away tears after reading misery memoirs. She couldn't understand library-goers who turned their noses up at commercial books, announcing that they only enjoyed literary reads. To her, authors should write what they wanted and readers had their pick of thousands of books to enjoy.

You want to know how long it takes for the fabric of society to break down? I’ll tell you. The same time it takes to kick a door down. I once read a book about Japanese veterans remembering the darkness of the Second World War. They seemed like old men with happy families at peace with the world, but they could still recall the hunger that drove them to kill and eat Chinese women. More often than not they would rape them first. Ask anyone who has been in a crowd that becomes too strong, where bodies begin to crush you. Is your first instinct to lift others up, or to trample them down? That beast inside you, the one you think is tethered tightly to the post, the

From the #1 bestselling War/Action Adventure/Men's Adventure/Techno-thriller author, Carolyn McCray comes the blockbuster, ultimate Betrayed Omnibus collection. Containing all of the Betrayed series from the first prequel short story to the post-Shiva exclusive short story, Mayhem, you can read the extremely controversial historical thriller saga in one place! ***Warning*** This book is an extremely controversial religious/historical thriller. Please do NOT purchase this book if you were at all disturbed by DaVinci's revelations. However, if you like your fiction to challenge historical events, read on… Praise for The Betrayed Series…

Midwest Book Full Review It's unusual to find a political and supernatural thriller so intrinsically woven into current issues about the fabric of American society that its fiction bleeds into a cautionary nonfiction tale, but Robert Hamilton's Crux: A Country That Cannot Feed Its People and Its Animals Will Fall represents such an achievement. Its saga of race, food security, violence and prejudice from religious and social circles alike, and the vulnerability of the American food supply chain provides a powerful story that holds many insights, perspectives, and warnings for modern-day readers concerned about this nation's trajectory. Readers who choose the story for its political and supernatural thriller elements won't be disappointed. The tale adopts a nonstop staccato, action-filled atmosphere as a series of catastrophes force veterinarian Dr. Thomas Pickett to move beyond his experience and objectives to become an active force in effecting change in America. How (and why) does a vet become involved in political scenarios? As Dr. Pickett becomes entangled in pork issues, kill pens, and a wider battle than that against animal cruelty, readers are carried into a thought-provoking scenario in which personal and environmental disasters change his upward trajectory with his new wife and their homestead. As Dr. Pickett is called on stage to testify about his beliefs and the Hand of God indicates his life and involvements will never be the same, readers receive a story replete in many social, spiritual, and political inquiries that lead to thought-provoking reflections and insights. True miracles and false gods are considered as he navigates unfamiliar territory of the heart, soul, and mind, coming to understand that his unique role as a vet and a caring, evolving individual can make a difference in the role America plays both domestically and in the world. From the Vice President's involvement in a national security crisis to the efforts to return the country to "its true Christian foundations," Robert Hamilton examines the crux of good intentions and beliefs gone awry and the true paths of those who link their personal beliefs with a changing political scenario. Whose side is God on, anyway? These and other questions make Crux not just a highly recommended read for its political thriller components, but a powerful social and spiritual examination that contains messages that deserve to be inspected, debated, and absorbed by book clubs and a broad audience of concerned American citizens. How do you reach hearts and minds? By producing a story that holds entertainment value and educational revelations alike. That's why libraries need to not only include Crux in their collections, but highlight it as a pivot point for discussions steeped in social, religious, and political examination. There is a bad storm coming. Crux is not just a riveting story, but a possible portent of a future America operating in the hands of a dangerous, attractive demagogue.

Writter of thriller, Horror, Suspense stories. First written story book ‘The Master Of Darkest World'. Need Everyone's support go and read.

高仿AIS毕业证咨询办理【Q微202-661-44-33】办（奥克兰商学院毕业证2021年版本）一模一样证书，在新西兰办AIS毕业证成绩单认证书，去哪办奥克兰商学院毕业证文凭证书 KJSNBSSBNSSBSVSBNVSBSNVSBNSVBSNVSBNSNBCSBVSC Royce's prose is taut and propulsive. Ruby Falls inhabits a hallucinatory Hollywood where fact and fiction mingle freely and even the smallest acts can feel ominous..an enjoyable pastiche with plenty of twists and turns." --Kirkus Reviews "Imaginative, unique, spine-tingling, and just the right amount of eerie, Ruby Falls is what a reader wants a psychological thriller to be." --Sandra Brown, New York Times bestselling author "Ruby Falls will sweep you headfirst into the life of Eleanor Russell, an actress setting up house in the glamorous Hollywood Hills with her handsome new husband, Orlando. Secrets abound in this bang of a book, a haunting tale sure to give readers chills. A stunner with some serious Gothic vibes." --Kimberly Belle, internationally bestselling author of "Dear Wife" and "Stranger in the Lake" "A tribute to Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca, this unnerving story about a Hollywood starlet haunted by her past will captivate you right up until the shocking ending. A must-read for anyone who loves an expertly plotted thriller with multidimensional characters." --Emily Liebert, USA Today bestselling author of "Perfectly Famous" "In 1968, young Ruby Russell loses her father while touring an underground cave. She recalls the moment his hand left hers, and nearly twenty years later, his disappearance remains a mystery. Ruby has reinvented herself as Eleanor Russell, married the man of her dreams, and is acting in a feature film. But as her new life begins to go awry, the mystery surrounding her past and present collide in a well-crafted and head spinning twist that I did not see coming. Ruby Falls is a skillfully plotted page turner!" --W

Dan Brown is the author of The Da Vinci Code, one of the most widely read books of all time, as well as three other bestsellers featuring Harvard symbologist Robert Langdon: Inferno, The Lost Symbol and Angels & Demons. He has also written two internationally acclaimed stand-alone thrillers, Deception Point and Digital Fortress.

Read No One Would Listen: A True Financial Thriller, by Harry Markopolos, about the blind-mice inner workings of the SEC.

She almost had no preference for any kind of book, and she had sometimes thought that odd; she had read Shakespeare and the thrillers of Sharon McDonald, and biographies of Samuel Johnson and different playwrights, silly romance novels, and also—the poets. She thought, privately, that poets just about sat on the right hand of God.

Danika does not scream. She does not cry. She does not even move. She just kneels there on the rocky forest floor, her hands resting on the top of her belly, staring at the grotesque thing that had only a short time before been the father of the child growing inside her.

A true man-eater. To Ben, there are no words more beautiful in any language.

When he looks back up, the tiger is still grinning at him, purring. Their stares meet. Bronson sees himself in the cat’s eyes, floating inside the yellow depths. For just a moment, as he gazes at his reflection, he feels as if his soul is being sucked up. Pulled into the animal. Trapped inside the black abyss of the tiger. Imprisoned there forever. It would be a punishment befitting a man whose only real purpose in life was to bring death to this species, and countless others like it.

It's like he was a thread in a larger plan that is not done yet.

As a thriller writer, I'm pleased to have crafted suspense for high-stakes disasters, kidnappings, computer hacking break-ins, and political scandals. Nothing in my writer's arsenal had prepared me, however, for the chilling real-world danger of losing my $290,000 hoard of Bitcoin savings. This horror was not to play out in some dimly lit alley or foggy backroom but in my kitchen, fueled by writer's block and Red Bull. I'd been up for 36 hours, writing the denouement of my new book, a crypto heist thriller, ironically enough, when tragedy struck. Bleary-eyed, I attempted to organize my digital files, but in my sleep-deprived state, I reformatted the USB drive containing my private keys in error. I felt as though I'd written myself into a plot twist with no escape. Panic was more crippling to me than any looming deadline. I tried everything, data recovery programs, techie friends, even making a final, desperate call to the manufacturer, whose support person, bless her heart, was more concerned about my hydration status than my financial ruin. I was about to pen my own doleful ending when a midnight Google splash led me to (TRUST GEEKS HACK EXPERT). They'd been featured in a technology blog's "Real-Life Mysteries" series—a fitting discovery for a suspense-addicted author. The tale described their work in recovering funds from ransomware attacks and lost hardware. It was the origin story of a band of cyber superheroes. I shouted out, anticipating a robo-support reply. But instead, I received a human being, a calming, smart voice that informed me I was not the first writer to make a catastrophe of a blunder (though I might win an award for most sleep-deprived). Their computer forensics division handled my case like a detective division closing a cold case. They took me through each step using words even a writer could understand. They used advanced data reconstruction techniques to retrieve my keys from the wiped drive, an endeavor they compared to un-erasing a book manuscript burned to ashes. Ten nail-sucking days passed, and I opened my email inbox to read: "Funds Recovered." A rush of relief swept over me like the greatest plot twist. My story did have a happy ending, after all. I now backup everything like a mad villain, but I sleep soundly too, knowing (TRUST GEEKS HACK EXPERT) is out there, the little-known heroes of fiction and real life. REACH OUT TO TRUST GEEKS HACK EXPERT CONTACT SERVICE Email. Trustgeekshackexpert[At]fastservice[Dot]com Telegram. Trustgeekshackexpert E m ail . in f o @ trust geeks hack exper t.c o m

As a thriller writer, I'm pleased to have crafted suspense for high-stakes disasters, kidnappings, computer hacking break-ins, and political scandals. Nothing in my writer's arsenal had prepared me, however, for the chilling real-world danger of losing my $290,000 hoard of Bitcoin savings. This horror was not to play out in some dimly lit alley or foggy backroom but in my kitchen, fueled by writer's block and Red Bull. I'd been up for 36 hours, writing the denouement of my new book, a crypto heist thriller, ironically enough, when tragedy struck. Bleary-eyed, I attempted to organize my digital files, but in my sleep-deprived state, I reformatted the USB drive containing my private keys in error. I felt as though I'd written myself into a plot twist with no escape. Panic was more crippling to me than any looming deadline. I tried everything, data recovery programs, techie friends, even making a final, desperate call to the manufacturer, whose support person, bless her heart, was more concerned about my hydration status than my financial ruin. I was about to pen my own doleful ending when a midnight Google splash led me to (TRUST GEEKS HACK EXPERT). They'd been featured in a technology blog's "Real-Life Mysteries" series—a fitting discovery for a suspense-addicted author. The tale described their work in recovering funds from ransomware attacks and lost hardware. It was the origin story of a band of cyber superheroes. I shouted out, anticipating a robo-support reply. But instead, I received a human being, a calming, smart voice that informed me I was not the first writer to make a catastrophe of a blunder (though I might win an award for most sleep-deprived). Their computer forensics division handled my case like a detective division closing a cold case. They took me through each step using words even a writer could understand. They used advanced data reconstruction techniques to retrieve my keys from the wiped drive, an endeavor they compared to un-erasing a book manuscript burned to ashes. Ten nail-sucking days passed, and I opened my email inbox to read: "Funds Recovered." A rush of relief swept over me like the greatest plot twist. My story did have a happy ending, after all. I now backup everything like a mad villain, but I sleep soundly too, knowing (TRUST GEEKS HACK EXPERT) is out there, the little-known heroes of fiction and real life. REACH OUT TO TRUST GEEKS HACK EXPERT CONTACT SERVICE Email. Trustgeekshackexpert [At] fast service [Dot] c o m Telegram. Trust geeks hack expert Email. info@trustgeekshackexpert.com

I went out for another walk and at a book shop I found (impossible not to find) the best seller novel The Rule of Four. I discovered that it’s a police thriller around the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili. 18.10 hrs. I read about 40 pages of the best seller around the Poliphili. It’s a bunch of 100 percent American nonsense, right next to which The Da Vinci Code feels like a masterpiece. Let’s say it fits right next to Conan Doyle, but far from Verne or Machen.

The only reason I read thriller is because I'd rather enjoy and devour a Nikki A Lamers book when I read romance.

She understood now why her friend Elizabeth, with her near-genius, analytical mind gave wide berth to murder mysteries, psychological thrillers, and horror stories, and read only romance novels. Because, by God, when a woman picked up one of those steamy books, she had a firm guarantee that there would be a Happily-Ever-After. That though the world outside those covers could bring such sorrow and disappointment and loneliness, between those covers, the world was a splendid place to be. She