He was a tight man. Everything about him was close and quiet; his gestures were short and clean, with no wasted movement. His eyes were bright and hard, the kind of blue you might see in the sky at high noon, if you looked straight up at the sky; almost white, but still pale, pale blue. He had dark yellowish circles under his eyes that rested on his cheekbones where the skin was drawn tight, as if he might have liver trouble from too much drinking, but he was physically sound and the circles came from playing stud poker all day and all night for many years. He had been playing in the back room of Hoban’s Pool Room and Poker Parlor since Monday at 4 p.m. It had started out as fooling around and then, as happened so many times, it developed into a game. The others began to drop in and a gig was working. It was nickel-and-dime stuff as long as it was The Kid and The Shooter and Pig, but when Carey and Carmody came in, both of whom bet the Cardinals and had won nicely over the weekend double-header, the play moved, deceptively, from nickel-and-dime to a quarter and a half and then wide open. It was Wednesday now, eleven in the morning. The game, like an endlessly circling bird, moved with a slow inexorable pace toward the center pot of money that grew magically with each dealt hand; revolving hands of cards, accompanied with a musical comment of silver upon silver tossed into the center of the table as the chant was heard, so soft as to be a litany calling on ghostly assistance and deliverance. “Queens bet.” “A half.” “In.” “Kicking it a half.” “And another half.” “And a half more.” “Buck and a half to me, and a half more.” The ritual quickened. It was the fourth card. Now the whisper and flutter of paper money would wash into the middle of the table. Someone dealt. The cards sliced through the smoky airless room like silent stealing death. And with each card, face up, a chant of destiny from the dealer, for he was the sole instrument in the life of a rambling-gambling man, bringing face up for all the world to see the next wonderful secret. There is nothing more for the gambling man. It is all there, sealed in the narrow turn of the next card. “A five to the queens, a jack to the possible, a nothing to the fours, an ace to the kicker, and the Gun shoots himself a red ten. Still queens.” “Queens check.” The raiser came back with a touch, a breath, feeling his way into those checking queens like a man fumbling in the dark. He touched it and then the queens slammed down hard on him. “Twenty dollars.” It was the clap of doom. Three players dropped out and it was back to the raiser. He hesitated. He knew three fours could not beat three queens. And to make sure (though there was another card coming and another chance) there were three queens, it would cost him twenty dollars. Pig had the fours. The Kid had the queens. They looked at each other’s cards. They were past the point as rambling-gambling men where they could play each other’s faces. Pig played the cards. There was no hope in playing The Kid. And it was not worth twenty dollars to see if The Kid was bluffing. He folded. The Shooter gathered up the cards and began to shuffle. In his huge hands the cards were like summer moths around a light, fluttering, singing, tightening and then disappearing as he cut them and rippled them again. The Shooter was acknowledged as the best man with cards along the Mississippi and west to Vegas. He looked over at The Kid who was stacking his half dollars. “They say Lancey is in town,” he said softly.

    Burroughs stated that the chapters are intended to be read in any order. The reader follows the narration of junkie William Lee, who takes on various aliases, from the U.S. to Mexico, eventually to Tangier and the dreamlike Interzone.The vignettes are drawn from Burroughs' own experiences in these places and his addiction to drugs (heroin, morphine, and while in Tangier, majoun [a strong hashish confection] as well as a German opioid, brand name Eukodol, of which he wrote frequently).[source wiki}

    But this notorious corner's 24-hour open-air drug market provides the economic fuel for a dying neighborhood. David Simon, an award-winning author and crime reporter, and Edward Burns, a 20-year veteran of the urban drug war, tell the chilling story of this desolate crossroad.Through the eyes of one broken family--two drug-addicted adults and their smart, vulnerable 15-year-old son, DeAndre McCollough, Simon and Burns examine the sinister realities of inner cities across the country and unflinchingly assess why law enforcement policies, moral crusades, and the welfare system have accomplished so little. This extraordinary book is a crucial look at the price of the drug culture and the poignant scenes of hope, caring, and love that astonishingly rise in the midst of a place America has abandoned.

    When evidence at the latest scene suggests that a massive predator may be the source of the carnage, a local crocodilian specialist is brought in as a consultant. Soon an effort is launched by the police and the coast guard to successfully locate and capture the ancient creature, which threatens the lives of everyone in the expedition, as well as the surrounding communities.

    With breathtaking freshness, he writes of mutability, of the passage of time, and of growth, decay, and death as they are reflected in both ourselves and the changing of the seasons. By turns playful, melancholy, and mysterious, the poems in "April Galleons" reaffirm the extraordinary powers that have made Ashbery such a significant figure in the American literary landscape.

    Lesy has collected and arranged photographs taken between 1890 and 1910 by a Black River Falls photographer, Charles Van Schaik.

    Thompson wrote for Rolling Stone magazine while covering the 1972 election campaign of President Richard M. Nixon and his unsuccessful opponent, Senator George S. McGovern. Hunter focuses largely on the Democratic Party's primaries and the breakdown of the national party as it splits between the different candidates.With drug-addled alacrity and incisive wit, Thompson turned his jaundiced eye and gonzo heart to the repellent and seductive race for president, deconstructed the campaigns, and ended up with a political vision that is eerily prophetic

    Whether dodging guerrillas at a cocaine market in Colombia, narrowly escaping a murderous Osama bin Laden in Afghanistan, interviewing a flatulent Colonel Gadaffi, crossing the border into Afghanistan dressed in a fetching bright blue burka or being kidnapped at gunpoint - or was it a finger in a pocket - in the backstreets of Belfast at the height of the troubles, Simpson paints a vivid picture of what being a journalist on the front line is all about, from low comedy to high drama. It's a rollercoaster ride that is sure to thrill anyone who dares to join it.

    Author Robert Sabbag tells the tale of Allen Long, who got involved in this unsavory business in the 1970s because he wanted to provide high-quality cannabis for his buddies and also for the sheer adventure of it. Some readers will find Long a disconcerting protagonist--he's a drug smuggler, after all--though it may appeal to advocates of drug legalization and readers of High Times. Sabbag essentially romanticizes Long's activities, such as when he writes about the "rather consoling absence of gunplay" that marked the business of marijuana smuggling in its primitive past. The storytelling is adequate, but parts of Loaded are plainly padded. Here's a bit of sample dialogue: "This is really great pot." "You like that?" "I don't think I've ever smoked anything better." A better and more hardheaded book on Colombian drug smuggling is Mark Bowden's Killing Pablo. --John Miller

    The books have been vetted by some of the top journalists in the world with statements such as; “David Paulides has shined a light onto one of the greatest and most disturbing mysteries of our time.” Another comment; “The paper trail uncovered by Paulides through sheer doggedness is impressive, the evidence indisputable.” Survivorman Les Stroud was interviewed about the series and stated, “Paulides presents pure facts. Facts that can’t be disputed.”The author continues with his profile points involving the disappearances and applies them to a series of incidents involving young men and women, mostly college age. Many of the victims vanished within the confines of their college or university town. These individuals were brilliant scholars, athletes and stellar people in their community. They disappear under unusual circumstances and are often found in areas that were previously searched. Medical examiners in these cases often cannot determine the cause of death. Many times the victim was recovered in water, yet autopsies show the body was not in the water the entire time the victim was missing. The majority of the families in these cases believe their loved ones were abducted and held, then later dumped in the water. These allegations are generally ignored by authorities until pressured by facts presented through secondary autopsies that families requested and paid for.This is a chilling and shocking series of stories that will cause many parents and young people to rethink their nighttime activities.

    The accompanying photo was a mugshot of a scrawny, seedy looking bloke the archetypal lowlife, a career crook, no doubt. And yet behind the headlines was a story the newspapers never discovered, a story more sensational than they could have wished for. This lowlife, this drug baron was in fact, just a few years before, a meek law-abiding suburban family man... He was my dad.'James is just a normal student - insecure, smelly, geeky and a virgin to boot.His father is a middle class, middle-aged and very well respected Jewish coin dealer.Their life is as good as it gets.Until one day James' father ditches Handel for Hard House and unexpectedly hits the gay club scene of London - trading in coin-dealing for drug-dealing. As James gets to grips with his new reality, will he save his broken dad or be dragged down with him? This is the incredible true story of how one well-to-do family man became Britain's most wanted meth dealer. For the first time, James, his son, tells the true story of their epic highs and crushing comedowns.

    Meanwhile, in 'Erlinda and Mr Coffin', Southern etiquette is unashamedly turned upside down in a tale of amateur theatricals reminiscent of Dickens and Victorian melodrama. Yet it is in 'Three Stratagems', 'The Zenner Trophy', 'Pages from an Abandoned Journal' and 'The Ladies in the Library' (with more than a hint of Thomas Mann's Death in Venice in the latter) that we see Vidal as we know him best: cynical and provocative in these subtle tales of what was known in those days as 'sexual inversion'.

    It is as much about their activities as intelligence agents and the great political and economic events of the period as it is about the two protagonists. Previous books have portrayed the protagonists in their roles as major literary figures. No other books on Hemingway and Gellhorn have dramatized them as political activists within the context of their era. HEMINGWAY AND GELLHORN depicts them as their lives evolved during the major political, military, and economic events of the time-the Great Depression, revolution, war in China and in Europe. Both writers were extremely political and committed in different ways to their political ideals. They were also highly promiscuous. This is the first book to show them in that light. This is the first book that goes into detail about Hemingway's role as a spy for the U.S. government. This is the first book that discusses how Martha's political passions played such an important role in the breakup of their marriage. This is the first book that talks about Hemingway's need to always have another woman in his life and his many extramarital affairs. This is the first book that examines Gellhorn's affairs before and during their marriage and her true motivation for seducing Hemingway.

    People, Beings and BeastsWhere does the boogeyman come from?What creatures feast on faithful men?How do you defeat a minotaur?What really riles a dragon?Where would you find real-life werewolves?What happened to Atlantis?From dragons, vampires, werewolves and fairies to flying carpets, lost cities and modern-day mysteries,this delightful compendium of over 250 weird and wonderful legends, myths and monsters will entertain and astound anyone

    You have arrived in the hills. In here, you are surrounded by dense, menacing forests, enveloped in a deadly silence... You never know what lurks here in the Cold, dark night. Do not walk alone after sunset in the hills. A beautiful woman in white haunts the Lonely pathways, looking to enchant and ensnare men... All the people who died in accidents here... They say you hear their screams at night. And the deserted lodges sitting amidst lush greenery and calm streams... Spirits lie in wait here, ready to prey on the living. There are sceptics who did not heed these warnings. They tried to rationalize what they saw, what they felt. But when they came face to face with the beings that they believed didn’t exist, they couldn’t run away anymore... Ghosts of the silent hills is a collection that will make your nights a little scarier, encompassing the very best spine-chilling stories based on true hauntings.About the AuthorBorn in Shimla in 1955, Anita Krishan spent the initial twenty-two years of her life in this pristine Himalayan town, earning her master’s degree in English literature from Himachal University, and moving on to a career of introducing delights of the language to her young learners. In her long tenure as an educator, she has enriched the lives of countless students with the mystery of the narrative. A versatile writer, each of her literary works appertains to a different genre... from the joys and travails of life, to terrorism that has brought the world to its tenterhooks, to now the paranormal. She has travelled extensively around the globe absorbing the diverse human ethos and cultures—the delectable food for her thoughts. Presently, she lives in Gurgaon with her family.