Night Film
Night Film is a private investigation thriller with touches of the supernatural. P. I. Scott McGrath has already damaged his reputation looking into the affairs of
Night Film is a private investigation thriller with touches of the supernatural. P. I. Scott McGrath has already damaged his reputation looking into the affairs of
It is 1972 in a small English country town. The year is important because it is a leap year and “time was out of joint
Noah Charney founded and now directs an international think tank on art crime. The Association for Research into Crimes Against Art (ARCA) aids police and
I read this entire novel in a single day. The Farm, by Tom Rob Smith, is a fascinating psychological mystery thriller that both puzzles and intrigues
Out Stealing Horses, by Per Petterson, is what I might describe as a double-layered coming-of-age novel. A sixty-seven-year-old man contemplates the events of his fifteen-year-old
Steinbeck’s Ghost – Lewis Buzbee’s story marketed to middle readers is equally as satisfying to adults, especially to those who love John Steinbeck. If
Not long ago I enthusiastically reviewed Chris Pavone’s new novel, The Accident, for “Bookin’ with Sunny.” Because I liked The Accident so much, I immediately
Wiles’ debut novel, Care of Wooden Floors, is laugh-out-loud, tear-making, hysterically funny. It is also mortifyingly funny as it is easy to identify with some
“Did all women married to well-known men struggle for recognition?” So Robert Louis Stevenson muses in Under the Wide and Starry Sky, Nancy Horan’s new
A SINGULAR MAN JP Donleavy once described himself as a comfortably burned out volcano. A Singular Man was written when the volcano was still spitting
Imagine Daphne du Maurier, sipping absinthe and smoking pot, while rereading Jane Eyre and rewriting The Turn of the Screw! That is precisely my impression
It’s been 30 years since the first publication of Neuromancer, the essential cyberpunk novel. A jaundiced response to the 1980’s “morning in America,” cyberpunk is a bastard
Why do we need yet another book about the life and times of Ernest Hemingway, especially when there are already so many good ones? Because
Having finished reading Jack Kerouac’s classic The Subterraneans, one feels as though one has been embraced and punched in the guts at the same time.
“My childhood among the Saints was no such thing. In a land built on belonging, I did not.” These first two sentences of Barbara Richardson’s
You are eighteen years old, the year is 1900 and your mother has died suddenly of a stroke. Your only known relative lives thousands of
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