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Failed lawyer Robert Green has such a good plan: Crack three hundred safe-deposit boxes and sail off to South America with his brilliant, morally flexible sister, Penny. If it weren’t for the damned freezing rain. In the dying resort town of Granite Shores, cop Jack Biddle is self-appointed king—mostly of bad decisions. Between his family’s crumbling legacy, a wife who just joined the city council, and life-threatening gambling debts, Jack’s looking for a way out. Then he spots a van spinning off a mountain road into the valley below.

In this fiendishly original novel, Mark Leyner is a leather-blazer-wearing, Piranha 793-driving, narcotic-guzzling monster who has potential rivals eliminated by his bionically enhanced bodyguards, has his internal organs tattooed, and eavesdrops on the erotic fantasies of Victoria's Secret models–fantasies that naturally revolve around him.

Manya Miriam Mittelman has an uneasy relationship with her flesh, of which there is a bit too much by the standards of Columbia University circa 1992.

Sasha North has gone missing. Everyone says she's run away, but I know better. We've been best friends since we were teenagers, since Sasha swept into the neighbourhood and brought colour to my life. Until a brutal attack changed both our lives forever. I know what happened that night. I know who wants revenge. And if Sasha has been taken. I know I'm next.

Panicked by his own mortality, despondent over his many failings as a writer and a man, Dunne leaves his wife and their three-year old child for the solitude of a crummy apartment off the Vegas Strip. There he plans to write an account of the city as he finds it; the book he ends up writing is "a fiction which recalls time both real and imagined."

Maria Weston wants to be friends with me. Maybe that had been the problem all along: Maria Weston had wanted to be friends with me, but I let her down. She's been hovering at the edge of my consciousness for all of my adult life, although I've been good at keeping her out, just a blurred shadow in the corner of my eye, almost but not quite out of sight. Maria Weston wants to be friends. But Maria Weston has been dead for more than twenty-five years.

On 15th June 1994, Travis Green - husband, father, upstanding citizen - walked through the streets of Hartstead and killed eleven of his neighbours. The last victim was little Cassie Colman's father. As the twenty-fifth anniversary approaches, Cassie tries to forget the past - even as her mother struggles to remember it at all. Then, something hidden in her mother's belongings suggests the murders were not as random as everyone believes. Cassie can't stop herself digging up the past. But someone will do anything to keep it buried.

We arrived at a villa on the Amalfi Coast, ready to enjoy a sun-soaked weekend with our oldest friends - and one new face. By the end of the weekend, my husband is found dead. But how can I mourn him, when on the day of his funeral I discover he was having an affair? The only suspects are the women we went on holiday with. My oldest, closest friends. Do I really want to dig into my husband's secret? Do I really want to know who betrayed me?

Paige didn’t set out to be a stay-at-home mom, but when her husband’s screenwriting career took off right before they had a son with Down syndrome, the decision was made for her. Now, with their children nearly grown and unsure what's next, Paige writes a memoir about the challenges of raising a child with a disability. When a major actress-turned-producer shows up at her door eager to make her “inspiring” story into a movie, she’s shocked, excited, and a little terrified.

Spannung und Action treffen auf schwarzen Humor. Als in einem Falkennest auf dem Dach des Andechser Klosters die inneren Organe eines Mannes gefunden werden, ahnt Kriminalrat Madsen, dass ihn dieser Fall mit den dunkelsten Tiefen der menschlichen Psyche konfrontieren wird. Doch die Grenze zwischen Gut und Böse verschwimmt, denn das Opfer entpuppt sich als brutaler Vergewaltiger - und Madsen muss sich letztlich die Frage stellen, ob er wirklich auf der richtigen Seite kämpft.

Un artist ucide și lumea din jurul lui se schimbă. Amalia, o adolescentă deloc banală, dispare într-o dimineață de decembrie. În căutarea ei pornesc trei prieteni care sunt, în același timp, și suspecți în cazul dispariției tinerei: un scriitor mizantrop și de succes, un pictor fascinat de lolite, dar și de septuagenare, o prostituată atrasă de tot ce înseamnă sex extrem. Revoltele sociale din februarie 2012 constituie, în premieră în literatura română, o parte din fundalul acțiunii.

Als Kneipenwirtin kennt Huberta „Hubbi“ Dötsch in ihrem Heimatort Affeln im Sauerland eigentlich jedes Gesicht – und jede Geschichte. Doch als die zurückgezogen lebende Imkerin Viola tot in ihrer Bienenhütte gefunden wird, scheint sich niemand für die Hintergründe zu interessieren. „Ein tragischer Unfall“, sagt die Polizei. Hubbi hingegen glaubt das keine Sekunde. Gemeinsam mit ihrem treuen Dackel Meter, ihrem Ehemann Tristan, ihrer neuen Verbündeten Rosa und den Stammgästen beginnt sie, hinter Violas stille Fassade zu blicken.

Barry and Beth, high school sweethearts separated by time and circumstance, find themselves reunited at the Blue Loon Village senior living center in Minneapolis. Now both seventy, they rekindle their relationship only to discover how differently time has shaped them. Beth has blossomed into a free spirit with a goth flair, while Barry has transformed into the curmudgeon he swore in his youth he’d never become.

נל ליישון, מחברת רב המכר ״צבע החלב״, מכניסה אותנו ברומן זה לראשו של גארי – כייס, פורץ, גנב. במונולוג כובש, שזור הומור עדין, לוקח אותנו גארי לטיול במשעול חייו, החל מילדותו המקופחת, המוזנחת, בלונדון, שם נולד לאם אלכוהוליסטית ול׳אב במשרה חלקית׳ שמתפרנס מעבירות קטנות. לילה אחד הוא לוקח את גארי איתו ומכיר לו את עולם הפשע. במהרה מתברר כי לגארי יש כישרון מיוחד, ויכולותיו של הבן עולות על אלה של האב. לגארי יש חושים כמעט על-אנושיים; בעזרת אינטליגנציה יוצאת דופן ועיניים כחולות בלתי נשכחות, גארי מצליח לצלול לראשם של אנשים סביבו ולהתל בהם כרצונו.

Before Jamaal’s seventeenth birthday, he’s appointed as his preacher uncle’s designated driver and unwilling personal confidant. Behind the fine outfits and hats, behind the harmonious singing and delicious cooking, Jamaal is exposed to crazy aunties, sexy church sisters, corrupt pastors, and predator deacons. A good kid who just wants time to finish his homework and kiss a nice girl his own age, Jamaal is dragged through the strange world of the Black church. You best pray for him.— An offensive dark comedy by the author of BLM-PD and Monuments: A Deadly Day at Jefferson Park.

Many full moons ago, a young American boy with ambition in his belly and the moon in his veins followed his destiny west, determined to carve a path to success no matter the carnage. Two centuries later, a city is captivated by the strange and savage murder of a young woman. Her roommate, Natasha, no longer able to afford their apartment alone—and hounded by both rumors of wolves and a pop-star’s angry fan-swarm—has resorted to living in her car. There’s nothing left for her ... except vengeance.

It's 2067 at Palm Meridian Retirement Resort, Florida, and the last day of Hannah's life. Tomorrow, as the sun burns the dew off the lawns, she'll close her eyes for the very last time. But she won't be going quietly. Tonight, Hannah's throwing an end-of-life party: the drinks are on ice, and the palm trees are strung with lights beneath technicolour skies. And though Hannah has less than twenty-four hours left, she's holding out for one last, impossible thing...

عارف؟ من ييجي خمسة عشر عامًا كنت أقول لأصدقائي الحالمين بأن يصحوا من النوم على وجه حاكم أفضل، أو وجه حاكم آخر والسلام، "لن يسقط نظام مبارك إلا بعد أن تسقط أسناني"، وهذي أسناني قد سقطت، فاللهم لا اعتراض على حكمتك في توزيع الكالسيوم

When the Australian Mystery Writers’ Society invited me to their crime-writing festival aboard the Ghan, the famous train between Darwin and Adelaide, I was hoping for some inspiration for my second book. Fiction, this time: I needed a break from real people killing each other. Obviously, that didn’t pan out.

Everyone in my family has killed someone. Some of us, the high achievers, have killed more than once. I’m not trying to be dramatic, but it is the truth. Some of us are good, others are bad, and some just unfortunate. I’m Ernest Cunningham. Call me Ern or Ernie. I wish I’d killed whoever decided our family reunion should be at a ski resort, but it’s a little more complicated than that.