Dans cet ouvrage à la construction éblouissante, Lawrence Block révèle le secret de New York. En fait, la mégalopole n'est qu'une manière de grand village rempli d'individus de toutes sortes unis par des liens aussi solides qu'ils sont invisibles. Et qu'ils soient écrivain, ex-grand manitou de la police, galeriste, avocat spécialisé dans la défense des criminels ou drogué reconverti dans le nettoyage des hauts lieux de la vie nocturne, tous ces gens ont un point commun : un amour immodéré de cette ville qui les abrite. Voilà pourquoi lorsque, dans l'ombre terrifiante des attentats du 11 septembre, un tueur fou commence à livrer une guerre sans merci contre l'immense métropole, tous se sentent concernés.
Et désemparés devant cette machine à tuer qui frappe où et quand elle veut.
Écrit dans un style à la fois lyrique et détaché, l'ouvrage est d'une grande violence, - en particulier dans la description de scènes érotiques qui pourront en choquer plus d'un.
Où l'illustre Grand Maître du roman policier américain définit ce qui, à ses yeux, constitue l'essence même de New York et dans un récit d'une grande violence raconte comment un tueur s'est mis en devoir de purger la mégalopole de tous les péchés qui s'y commettent.
Grand Maître des Mystery Writers of America, Lawrence Block a décroché quatre fois l'Edgar et le Shamus Award et a reçu de nombreux prix à l'étranger, notamment en Allemagne et au Japon. Il réside à  New York.

Lendemains de terreur

Bernie Rhodenbarr has gone legit -- almost -- as the new owner of a used bookstore in New York's Greenwich Village. Of course, dusty old tomes don't always turn a profit, so to make ends meet, Bernie's forced, on occasion, to indulge in his previous occupation: burglary. Besides which, he likes it. Now a collector is offering Bernie an opportunity to combine his twin passions by stealing a very rare and very bad book-length poem from a rich man's library. The heist goes off without a hitch. The delivery of the ill-gotten volume, however, is a different story. Drugged by the client's female go-between, Bernie wakes up in her apartment to find the book gone, the lady dead, a smoking gun in his hand, and the cops at the door. And suddenly he's got to extricate himself from a rather sticky real-life murder mystery and find a killer -- before he's booked for Murder One.

The Burglar Who Liked to Quote Kipling

Après Michael Connelly ou James Ellroy, c'est au tour d'Harlan Coben d'être invité par l'éditeur Otto Penzler à faire sa sélection des meilleures nouvelles policières américaines parues en 2013 dans la presse. Un voyage en vingt étapes mené à un rythme d'enfer par les routiers confirmés du polar et de jeunes seconds couteaux au talent prometteur. Au programme : des détectives privés sur le retour, des tueurs à gage sanguinaires, des escrocs à la petite semaine, des héros malgré eux et des histoires où se succèdent arnaques, meurtres froidement prémédités, coups de sang, vengeances… Insomniaques, s'abstenir.

Insomnies en noir - Les meilleures nouvelles policières américaines 2013

The pretty young prostitute is dead. Her alleged murderer—a minister's son—hanged himself in his jail cell. The case is closed. But the dead girl's father has come to Matthew Scudder for answers, sending the unlicensed private investigator in search of terrible truths about a life that was lived and lost in a sordid world of perversion and pleasures.

Les Péchés des pères

Seit seinem Debüt von 1977 hat sich Bernie Rhodenbarr die Zuneigung eines wachsenden internationalen Publikums erworben. Der unbekümmerte Langfinger, der sich mit seiner detektivischen Begabung aus den Klemmen zieht, in die ihn sein Geschick als Einbrecher bringt, gewinnt mehr und mehr die Herzen seiner Leser. Titel ist sein erster Auftritt. Über Bernies Anfänge weiß Autor Lawrence Block zu berichten: "Ich war arbeitslos und auch für keine feste Arbeit geeignet", erinnert er sich. "Und ich wusste nicht, was tun. Selbst die einfachsten Jobs schienen Erfahrungen zu erfordern, die ich nicht hatte. Und dann sagte eine stille innere Stimme: >Schließe nicht von vorneherein das Verbrechen aus.< Wenn du einen Liquor Store ausraubst, will vorher niemand deine Bewerbungsunterlagen sehen. "Je länger ich darüber nachdachte, desto deutlicher wurde mir klar, dass Einbruch nicht die schlechteste Wahl war. Man bestimmt selbst über seine Arbeitszeiten, man versucht, jeden menschlichen Kontakt zu vermeiden - nicht viel anders als ein Schriftsteller. Und wenn man erwischt wird, bekommt man wahrscheinlich erst einmal Bewährung oder eine kurze Haftstrafe - außerdem müssen sie einen durchfüttern, wenn man im Gefängnis sitzt. "Dann dachte ich, na schön, ich werde erwischt und lasse mich widerstandslos festnehmen, aber dann findet einer der Cops im Zimmer nebenan eine Leiche. Das wäre natürlich ein Problem. Ich dachte . und mein nächster Gedanke war: "Nein, das wäre ein Buch." Eine Woche später hatte ich drei Kapitel und ein Resümee geschrieben und an meinen Agenten geschickt. Es wurde vom ersten Verleger, der es zu sehen bekam, angenommen, und ich musste nicht mehr losziehen und mir einen Job suchen - oder in eine Wohnung einbrechen. "Deshalb kann ich ohne Übertreibung behaupten, dass mich Bernie Rhodenbarr vor einem Leben als Verbrecher bewahrt hat."

Ein Einbrecher zum Verlieben - Bernie Rhodenbarr, #1

In his fourth appearance, Matthew Scudder deals as an unlicensed private investigator with a case from his own past as a cop. A serial killer has confessed to the murder of seven woman, but insists he had nothing to do with the death of an eighth victim. The dead woman's father hires Scudder to investigate, and the facts he uncovers tend to confirm the killer's claim of innocence. This tells him a new killer purposely copied earlier crimes-which makes it likely he had a personal motive. Scudder, very much the hard-drinking loner, stays on the case like a dog with a bone, even after his own client has attempted to dismiss him. It's in this novel that Scudder meets sculptor and SoHo resident Jan Keane, who'll figure prominently in several future volumes of the popular series. Reviews:"Block knows how to weave a tangled web. And when people try to deceive, which is fairly often in his books, they get into a lot of trouble. Block's plots are taut, and his dialogue realistic without too many embellishments. The characters are tough men and they speak accordingly." ~Rocky Mountain News"Unusually well written! Block is a deft surgeon, sure and precise." ~The New York Times"Riveting...a staggering conclusion." ~Publishers Weekly"Convincing suspense." ~Philadelphia Inquirer"Block is awfully good, with an ear for dialogue, an eye for low-life types, and a gift for fast and effortless storytelling that bears comparison with Elmore Leonard." ~Los Angeles Times

A Stab in the Dark - Matthew Scudder, #4

Sheesh. What a lousy title. Flesh Mob was published by Midnight Reader, a fellow imprint of Nightstand Books, in 1962. I can tell at a glance that it's my work, although I don't specifically recall writing it. And I must have put a title on it, but I  an assure you that it wasn't Flesh Mob. It could only have been the inspiration of some editor in Illinois. Several notables filled that role over the years, including Earl Kemp, A. J. Budrys, and Harlan Ellison, but it's hard to imagine any of those three making a eureka moment of Flesh Mob. For years it struck me as merely a bad title, two works that when combined had a sort of reverse synergy, amounting to rather less than the sum of their parts. Then just this week I looked at the title and saw that it could only be a pun on the phrase "flash mob." That still didn't make it a good title, but at least it gave it a lame reason for being. Except not. Because a little internet research shows that "flash mob" came into existence, as both phrase and concept, sometime shortly after the turn of the present century, and approximately forty years after my humble little novel first appeared wherever bad books were sold. AJ and Harlan and Earl were grounded in science fiction, but that's not enough to account for a title that was a pun on a phrase nobody would utter for another four decades. Never mind. The book's a multiple-viewpoint novel, with a rich cast of characters. Here's a sample of two of them:#"I'M LEAVING MATT, " Kitty said. Linc digested this bit of information. She searched his face, trying to decide whether he approved or disapproved. His face was a mask. She couldn't tell how he felt about it. "I'm leaving him, " she said again. "He didn't even come home last night. And the fact doesn't even bother me. There's not a thing left between us, Linc. Nothing at all. He can go his way and I can go mine and neither of us gives a whoop in hell about the other one. That's no basis for marriage." "Will he give you a divorce?" "I think so. He barely knows I'm alive. He'll probably be glad to get rid of me." Linc shrugged. "His pride might be hurt. And he might be upset from a pure financial standpoint. Divorce can be costly to a man. Alimony." "I wouldn't want alimony from him." "Oh?" "Just freedom." He said: "What will you do after the divorce?" "Oh, " she said. "I don't know. I may stay in Clifton, at least until I decide where I want to go next. New York eventually, I think. Small towns can get to you. I think I'm ready for the city." "You'd fit right in." "But for the time being we can have our fun. Do you feel like. like some fun now, Linc?" "God, you're insatiable." "I've been inactive for a long time, " she told him. "Too long. It can get to you. Are you interested, Linc?" "I'll race you to the bedroom, " he said.#There you go, Gentle Reader. Flesh Mob. It is what it is.

Flesh Mob - Collection of Classic Erotica, #25

Vol et volupte

Deux de ses lieutenants ayant été abattus, Mick Ballou, le grand Irlandais assassin, philosophe et buveur de whisky, demande à son ami, le détective privé Matt Scuddere de retrouver les coupables. Matt hésite:que fera Mick s'il les lui livre Leur tranchera-t-il la tête ?Mais peu après, Matt est attaqué par des voyous tandis que le bar de Mick est dévasté par une bombe. Qui plus est, Jim Faber, le responsable de Matt Scuddere aux "alcoliques anonymes" est tué. Fini les hésitations: Matt enquêtera et ne fera pas de quartier.Parce que les crimes passées doivent toujours être soldé à l' approche de la mort et du jugement dernier, Matt Scuddere et Mick Ballou se lancent dans une terrifiante enquête, où à chaque page le sang appelle le sang.

Ils y passeront tous

Fifty books. Four Edgar awards. Two bestselling series. It all adds up to Lawrence Block, one of the bonafide masters of mystery fiction, and the creator of Matthew Scudder and Bernie Rhodenbarr. Now Bernie -- bookseller by day, burglar by night -- returns in his first adventure since The Bulglar in the Library, two years ago. This time, he's tapped to retrieve the lost letters of famed and reclusive author Gulliver Fairborn. But instead of the letters, Bernie finds one dead literary agent, a beautiful woman, and a cadre of cops in his way.

Les lettres mauves

A conman hiding out in Atlantic City lays his life on the line for a shot at a $250,000 payoff  Mona has a millionaire husband, a million-dollar figure, and hair that’s blonde to the roots. She’s just what Leonard K. Blake is looking for. Of course, that’s not his real name. Nor is it David Gavilan—that’s the one he used in Philly, before he skipped out on a $600 hotel bill and jumped a train to Atlantic City. He doesn’t have a name or a profession, but he’s got a knack for storytelling and knows just what Mona needs to hear. He also has a pair of stolen suitcases that he grabbed at the train station. They happen to contain a brick of pure heroin—enough to make him dead or make him rich—and they happen to belong to Mona’s husband. As if a good-looking blonde wasn’t trouble enough. This ebook features an illustrated biography of Lawrence Block, including rare photos and never-before-seen documents from his personal collection, and a new afterword written by the author.

Y a qu'à se baisser...

Jill Emerson, whose first three works were gentle explorations of the lesbian experience, took a sharp turn toward candor in THIRTY, her first book for Berkley. As I've explained in the book description for that novel, around the time Berkley came calling (via my agent) I'd become disenchanted with the whole notion of fiction recounted by some disembodied third- or first-person narrator. It struck me as artificial, and my response was to pile artifice upon artifice and produce a novel in the guise of an actual document. In THIRTY, the novel pretended to be a diary. That worked fine, and the resultant narrative proved at once challenging and effortless to sustain. I enjoyed writing it, Berkley enjoyed publishing it-and they wanted something else. What they got in THREESOME was a novel pretending to be a novel. The premise, as you'll see, is that the book has been written by its three main characters, Harry and Rhoda and Priss, in the form of a lightly fictionalized chronicle of their own life as a menage a trois. They set about writing alternate chapters-and, reading one another's work as they go along, they learn things they hadn't known, and one thing leads to another, and-I think the phrase we want is tour de force, and how nice to be able to use it in the same book description as menage a trois. The book was also about as much fun as I've ever had while sitting at a typewriter. I've written before about THREESOME, but there's something I've never recounted, and I'm old enough now to just go ahead and do it. Back in the early 1970s I had come in from rural New Jersey to hole up in a New York hotel and work on a book-this one-and one evening after the day's work was done I drifted down to the Village and wound up in an establishment called the Kettle of Fish, on Macdougal Street. (It has since relocated to Christopher Street.) They serve strong drink there, and that night God knows they served more than enough of it to me. When I left I took a few steps and found myself in conversation with some folks in a car, a large station wagon, and they turned out to be six adolescent girls from the Convent of the Sacred Heart in Noroton, Connecticut, a very classy Catholic prep school. Their favorite teacher was driving, and the next thing I knew I was in the back of the vehicle with them. I guess they thought I was interestingly exotic, a drunk Bohemian writer indigenous to Greenwich Village. I in turn thought they were adorable. The teacher (an affable chap, but God only knows what he was about, and I'm sure in due course the school must have let him go) drove us back to Connecticut, and the rest of the evening was lost in nacht und nebel, as it were. I passed out on somebody's couch, woke up the next morning, and wound up taking the train back to the city with two of the young ladies. We went to my hotel room, where we may have smoked an illegal herb, and, um, necked a little. One of them saw my typewriter and asked what I was working on. I said it was a novel about a sexual relationship of two women and a man. Thoughtful pause. "I had no idea, " she said, "that you researched these things so thoroughly."They left and I never saw them again, and if the incident rings a muted bell, it's probably because I used it as the opening of another novel, RONALD RABBIT IS A DIRTY OLD MAN, which masquerades as the collected correspondence of its protagonist. And which I'll be republishing fairly soon, but in the meantime we have THREESOME. It's a personal favorite of mine; that's no reason why you should like it, but I hope you do. This ebook edition of THREESOME contains as a bonus the opening chapter of the fifth Jill Emerson novel, A MADWOMAN'S DIARY.

Threesome - The Jill Emerson Novels, #5

Nous sommes à la fin des années 70.
L'illustre privé Matt Scudder a déjà quitté la police et tente, dans les bars, d'oublier Estrellita Rivera, la fillette qu'il a tuée au cours d'une arrestation mouvementée. Il est seul. Jusqu'à Jacob Jablon, alias " La Toupie ", qui ne lui téléphone plus. et dont on repêche le cadavre, dans l'East River. 
Est-ce le détective qui a contracté une dette à l'égard de l'escroc, ou l'inverse ? Peu importe. Scudder se lance sur la piste de celui - ou de celle - qui a commandité l'assassinat de son ami.
Il découvre que celui-ci faisait chanter trois personnes très haut placées. Toutes trois avaient d'excellentes raisons de faire exécuter " La Toupie ". Toutes trois ont maintenant d'aussi bonnes raisons de faire disparaître Scudder.

Tuons et créons, c'est l'heure

Bookselling burglar Bernie Rhodenbarr doesn't generally get philosophical about his criminal career. He's good at it, it's addictively exciting-and it pays a whole lot better than pushing old tomes. He steals therefore he is, period. He might well ponder, however, the deeper meaning of events at the luxurious Chelsea brownstone of Herb and Wanda Colcannon, which is apparently burgled three times on the night Bernie breaks in: once before his visit and once after. Fortunately he still manages to lift some fair jewelry and an extremely valuable coin. Unfortunately burglar or burglars number three leave Herb unconscious and Wanda dead .

The Burglar Who Studied Spinoza

Lawrence Block, né le 24 juin 1938 à Buffalo (New York), est un écrivain américain de roman policier.

https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lawrence_Block

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