Second in the highly-acclaimed Richard Nottingham historical mystery series 1732. Richard Nottingham, Constable of the City of Leeds, is grieving the death of his daughter, but he must rouse himself from his lethargy when the body of wealthy wool merchant Samuel Graves is discovered, his throat slit, the skin razed from his back. Why would the killer want Graves' skin? When Nottingham receives a slim, bound volume entitled The Journal of a Wronged Man he discovers the shocking answer - and it hurls him into a desperate battle for survival against a ruthless killer with old scores to settle.
Lock the doors. Close the windows. And prepare yourself for the heart-stopping debut of Anthony Izzo, a new master of horror who will chill you to the bone. . . Jack Harding and his friends feel sorry for the new kid in town. His name is Ronnie Winter, and he's a bit of a weirdo. So when the local bullies try to beat him up, Jack and his friends step in to protect Ronnie--and that's their first mistake. Because Ronnie Winter is not like any other kid they've ever known. He lives at the old Steadman place, in the big creepy mansion that used to be a mental hospital. And his young, beautiful mother has a strange way of making Jack promise to be Ronnie's friend. . .forever. The closer Jack and his friends get to Ronnie, the colder it gets. The town is plunged into a wave of brutal snowstorms--and plagued by a series of gruesome murders. And as the grisly death toll mounts, Jack realizes that Ronnie is surrounded by something far more powerful than a mother's love--he's guarded by a force of unspeakable evil that will torture and destroy everything in its path. . . The Thing in the Tunnel "Listen," Paul said. Slow footsteps echoed, a soft-crunch in the dark. At first Jack thought Ronnie turned the flashlight off and snuck into the tunnel in order to scare them, but the footsteps were too heavy. They belonged to someone bigger. "Reach out your hand, Paul." "Okay." They started to go but something found Paul first. It jerked Paul back, and purely out of reflex, Jack clamped on to Paul's hand, this alone preventing him from being torn back into the tunnel by whatever was down there. "It's got me hooked! Its arm is around me!" Jack felt Paul leave his feet as his attacker hoisted him into the air, intent on dragging Paul back into the tunnel. It pulled again, like a shark dragging a swimmer down, and it was too strong. Paul's hand slipped from Jack's, and Paul shrieked. "Let me go! Bastard! Let me go! God, it smells bad!" Jack charged ahead and slammed into someone as solid as a muscle man in a magazine. He wrapped his arms around the waist and pulled, but it was like trying to drag down a redwood tree. He was being dragged behind the guy like tin cans on a wedding car. It stank like old leaves or hair that's clogged in a drain, wet and dead. What is it and why did we have to run into it?
The New York Times–bestselling author returns with another “totally captivating page-turner . . . perfect for winter nights with a storm beating against the windows” (New York Journal of Books). A snowstorm leaves Irish pub owner Maura Donovan trapped inside with her patrons—and a suspected killer—in this 5th Agatha Christie-style cozy mystery in the County Cork series. Snow is a rarity in Maura Donovan's small village in County Cork, Ireland, so she wasn't sure what to expect when a major snowstorm rolled in around Sullivan's pub. But now she's stranded in a bar full of patrons—and a suspected killer in a long-ago murder. Maura's been in Ireland less than a year and hasn't heard about the decades-old unsolved crime that took place nearby, let alone the infamous suspect, Diane Caldwell. But the locals have, and they're not happy to be trapped with her. Diane, meanwhile, seeks to set the record straight, asserting her innocence after all this time. And since no one is going anywhere in the storm, Maura encourages Diane to share her side of the story, which she'd never had a chance to do in court. Over the next few hours, the informal court in Sullivan's reviews the facts and theories about the case—and comes to some surprising conclusions. But is it enough to convince the police to take a new look at an old case?
Katherine (Katya) Vogt is now an old woman living in Winnipeg, but the story of how she and her family came to Canada begins in Russia in 1910, on a wealthy Mennonite estate. Here they lived in a world bounded by the prosperity of their landlords and by the poverty and disgruntlement of the Russian workers who toil on the estate. But in the wake of the First World War, the tensions engulfing the country begin to intrude on the community, leading to an unspeakable act of violence. In the aftermath of that violence, and in the difficult years that follow, Katya tries to come to terms with the terrible events that befell her and her family. In lucid, spellbinding prose, Birdsell vividly evokes time and place, and the unease that existed in a county on the brink of revolutionary change. The Russländer is a powerful and moving story of ordinary people who lived through extraordinary times.
These letters tell the story of a young American woman of Japanese descent who was stranded in Japan during World War II. They chronicle her turbulent life from her arrival in Japan through her experiences as a civilian employee of U.S. forces in the first years of the American occupation.
"Legends of the Northwest" is a collection of tales from the Dakota Native American tribe, given mainly in form of poetry. The author explains, "I have for several years devoted many of my leisure hours to the study of the language, history, traditions, customs and superstitions of the Dakotas. These Indians are now commonly called the "Sioux"—a name given them by the early French traders and voyageurs. "Dakota" signifies alliance or confederation. Many separate bands, all having a common origin and speaking a common tongue, were united under this name...They were, but yesterday, the occupants and owners of the fair forests and fertile prairies of Minnesota—a brave, hospitable and generous people,—barbarians, indeed, but noble in their barbarism. They may be fitly called the Iroquois of the West. In form and features, in language and traditions, they are distinct from all other Indian tribes. When first visited by white men, and for many years afterwards, the Falls of St. Anthony (by them called the Ha-Ha) was the center of their country. They cultivated tobacco, and hunted the elk, the beaver and the bison. They were open-hearted, truthful and brave. In their wars with other tribes they seldom slew women or children, and rarely sacrificed the lives of their prisoners.
