I'm still reading this, but I wanted to say that I am annoyed with the book and only on the 8th chapter. The book's narrator talks at great length on preciseness of writing and attention to details, yet chronology in the book is already skewed. While reading the papers, looking up information of ...
It's been a while since I read a book I liked this much. I picked it up as a filler for a heavy-duty non-fiction I'm reading and finished it right away. Although I wanted to, I didn't look ahead or skim through any parts. Cook's writing is good enough to keep reading; he doesn't pad it by putti...
The Edgar Award-winning author of "Peril" weaves a stunning tale of intrigue in this enthralling new thriller about a man pulled back into a twisted web of deceit and violence from which he thought he escaped. Original.
Along with Jamie and my mother, Laura died at approximately four in the afternoon. It was almost two hours later that Mrs. Hamilton, a neighbor from across the street, saw my father drive away. During those long two hours in which he remained in the house, my father washed my mother's body and ar...
Sara Labriola is a married woman haunted by the shattering secrets of her past—and terrified of the future. Tired of living in fear—and knowing that if she stays in her marriage she'll be killed—Sara decides to do the only thing she can: she makes herself disappear.One afternoon, without telling ...
SUMMARY:Looking out over the city, imagining its once-coal-blackened spires, he knew that he did it to keep his distance, that he set his books back in time because it was only in that vanished place, where the smell of ginger nuts hung in the air and horse-drawn water wagons sprayed the cobblest...
It is autumn 1937 when a mystery woman appears in Port Alma, a sea village nestled on the chilly coast of Maine. A fragile, green-eyed beauty, the woman arrives with little more than the clothes on her back and a wealth of unspoken secrets. Before a year goes by, she will flee Port Alma on the sa...
A photographer struggles to understand a stranger's suicide There's nothing special about the woman's death. It comes over the police radio like any other sad story: a woman found on the sidewalk, killed after plunging from her apartment. But something about the gruesome scene grabs David Corman'...
“A fascinating story of unrequited love, bigotry, tragedy and mystery”“Breakheart Hill” was written by the master story teller, Thomas H. Cook. The novel is fictional literature in the mystery/love story genre. Mr. Cook has written a significant number of books, short stories and novels and has...
One from the "dark secret shrouded in the mists of time" department. As a reader, I like framing devices as much as anybody, but they need to have some kind of rules; a modern story can't continually roam around in clouds of fear and suspicion like The Castle Of Otranto or The Mysteries Of Udolfo...
Finished this book yesterday April 21 2015 and yes I liked it.Good writing and an interesting story.Oh my so sad. How terrible that the perpetrators of crimes are still even more than back then protected while their victims loved ones cannot protect themselves.For instance they are not allowed t...
This book is better than the later ones of Mr Cook that I have read (being released in 1980)It still has his big failing in my eyes of being far too wordy. Its only a short book, but it seems that with all the words he tries to put in to explain things it actually makes the actual conclusion of t...
Edgar Award winner Thomas H. Cook has earned acclaim and a growing legion of fans for his brilliantly styled, intensely evocative thrillers. Now, in his most seductive suspense novel yet, he draws us into a world of love, betrayal, and murder from which one man can find no escape."It's better to...
The author of Blood Innocents writes a gripping psychological thriller set in Atlanta that will appeal to the fans of Lawrence Sanders and Jonathan Kellerman. "Thoughtful and uncommonly observant detective work".--Philadelphia Inquirer. The author off Blood Innocents, Tabernacle and other critic...
I sat beside her on the train from Standhope. She was elegantly dressed in clothes my father had bought her, a lovely black dress with a velvet collar. She spoke very little during the journey in, and only rarely glanced up from the story she was reading, “Bartleby the Scrivener.” I didn’t try to...
There were bits of paper and old bottle caps at her feet, and for an instant Frank felt the impulse to sweep down and clear them away, to tidy things up a bit, the littered walkway she stood in, the rumpled sofa in his office, the cluttered desk and dank, stuffy closet. But it was too late, and s...
I would come to Lubanda and dig a well or build a school or plant trees or do some other goodly labor. But in the end, I’d done no good at all. Then after less than a year, and in drear admission of my failure, I’d gotten on a plane, flown out of Lubanda, and never put anything at risk again. Now...
In his terror of the fever and what it might portend, Dr. Ludtz mires his mind in the rudiments of the physical. It is in the nature of illness to reduce the parameters of one’s world to a tight little knot of injury. Nothing contracts the self into a small, aching center of restricted consciousn...
She had worked at the Mysterious Bookshop for almost ten years, but only on Saturdays, when the owner was at his house in Connecticut, and the store’s full-time employees were scattered about various apartments throughout the city. Her job was simply to buzz customers into the store, answer whate...
The teeming street life of the day had given way to a sullen world of dark, empty streets. Pools of grayish light gathered beneath the street lamps or hazily illuminated deserted stretches of the small, untended parks. The shops which had been so busy the day before were now closed. Thick metal s...
I couldn’t possibly include myself among the men who hung in dark frames from the walls of my father’s apartment. They had been warriors and diplomats, and a few, as my father had once reluctantly admitted, had been spies. I knew that my own life would never be as charged with mission as theirs. ...