A successful socialite's beautiful wife was raped and murdered in her own home -- and Matt Scudder believes the victim's "grieving" husband was responsible for the outrage. But to prove it, the haunted p.i. must descend into the depths of New York's sex-for-sale underworld, where young lives are commodities to be bought, perverted...and destroyed.

A Dance at the Slaughterhouse - A Matthew Scudder Crime Novel

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

Sometime in 1953, I knew with unusual certainty what I intended to do with my life. I would become a writer. I was then 15 years old, and the next several years were to prove eventful. I went to college, I got a summer job at a literary agency and dropped out of college to keep it, I sold two dozen short stories and articles to national magazines, and I completed a novel. By the time I was 25, I had a wife and two daughters and a house in a suburb. I had published over fifty books. Most of these bore pen names, and for a time I resisted acknowledging my early pseudonymous work. Then, in one astonishing and feverish week in 1994, I recalled those early years in fifty thousand words of memoir. A publisher contracted to bring out my memoir once I'd completed it. Instead I put it on a shelf and never looked at it again, and after a few years I bought it back from the publisher. Early in 2020, I had a fresh look at A Writer Prepares. Then I went back to work. It would occupy me, off and on, for the balance of the year. By the time I was ready to stop, I'd written about my life as a writer well into 1966, when I'd completed The Thief Who Couldn't Sleep; it was the first of eight books I would write about a fellow named Evan Tanner. According to A Trawl Among the Shelves, Terry Zobeck's exhaustive bibliography of my work, 2020 also saw the publication of my 209th book, Dead Girl Blues. It has been a long life, and seems to have been a busy one. A Writer Prepares is, for better or for worse, an undeniably curious book. My wife, a casual student of hagiography, loves the story of the church officials who took a long-delayed inventory of their collection of relics. They were surprised to discover that they possessed not one but two heads of John the Baptist. How could this be? They considered the matter until the explanation became clear: one was John's head as a young man, the other his head as an old man. A Writer Prepares, an examination of the first quarter century of a writer's life, is the work of two writers. There's the middle-aged fellow who wrote about half of it at a blistering pace in 1994, and there's the octogenarian who finished the job another quarter century later. The older fellow brought less raw energy to the task, and his memory is a long way from infallible, but one can only hope he's offset these losses with a slight edge in judgment, in perspective, in maturity. (I was about to add wisdom, but that might be a bridge too far.) I suspect this book's natural audience consists largely of those of you who are already enthusiastic readers of my work. And it seems likely that the book will get a favorable reception from persons who are somewhere in the process of finding themselves as writers. But I'm happy to let the the book find its true audience.  A very comforting aspect of publishing A Writer Prepares now rather than twenty-five years ago is that I'm so much less invested in its reception.

A Writer Prepares

La spinoza connection

Annulez le tcheque !

Dix-huit histoires de suspense par les maîtres d’aujourd’hui et ceux qui les ont inspirés.Le principe de cette anthologie est simple et original. Lawrence Block a demandé à neuf auteurs de premier plan (dont Stephen King, Ed Gorman, Tony Hillerman) de choisir :1 : leur histoire préférée parmi leurs propres œuvres.2 : parmi les œuvres d’autres auteurs importants, l’histoire qui les a le plus divertis, intéressés, qui a le mieux stimulé leur imagination, bref, qui les a aidés à forger leur propre univers.On trouve donc ici dix-huit histoires, présentées par paires (ainsi la nouvelle de Stephen King est suivie de la nouvelle de Joyce Carol Oates que King a choisie). On a donc les « couples » suivants :Stephen KING + Joyce Carol OATESPeter LOVESEY + Donald E. WESTLAKEHarlan ELLISON + Jacques FUTRELLEEd GORMAN + Stephen CRANEJoan HESS + Judith GARNERJohn LUTZ + W.F. HARVEYBill PRONZINI + Benjamin APPELTony HILLERMAN + Joe GORESLawrence BLOCK + John O’HARA

Choix de Maitre

THIRTY, as intensely erotic a book as I'd ever written, is what happened after I stopped writing erotica. Beginning with CARLA in 1958, I spent half a dozen years laboring in the vineyards of Midcentury Erotica, writing no end of books for Midwood, Nightstand, Beacon, et.al. It was a wonderful training ground, a comfortingly forgiving medium, and I've never regretted the timer I spent there, although for a time I wanted to disown the work I produced. (That changed with the passage of time, and now I've been eagerly reissuing much of that early work in my Collection of Classic Erotica. I like to tell myself this represents great progress in self-acceptance, but I have a hunch Ego and Avarice play a role here.)Never mind. I went on writing for Bill Hamling's Nightstand Books until a break with my agent deprived me of the market, and I can't regret that, either, because it's safe to say I'd stayed too long at the fair, and would have stayed longer still if given the chance. Instead, I took a job editing a numismatic magazine in Wisconsin and went on writing fiction in my free time. I placed some stories with Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine and THE GIRL WITH THE LONG GREEN HEART with Gold Medal, and then I wrote THE THIEF WHO COULDN'T SLEEP, which turned out to be the first of a series about a fellow named Evan Tanner. This was the first book in a voice that was uniquely mine, and the most satisfying work I'd ever done. I went on to write a total of seven books about Tanner (an eighth would follow after a 28-year interval) along with a couple of other crime novels, and then one day I got a call from my agent, Henry Morrison. Berkley Books wanted to launch a line of erotic novels, but on a different level from the old Midwood/Nightstand/Beacon ilk. It was 1968, censorship had essentially vanished, and American letters from top to bottom was embracing the sexual revolution and the new freedom. As Cole Porter might have put it, some authors who'd once been stuck with better words were now free to use four-letter words. Meanwhile, I was going through a period of discontent with the whole notion of fiction. I had nothing against the idea of making things up, but the artificiality of the novel suddenly rubbed me the wrong way. Narration, whether first person or third person, was a weird voice in one's ear. Who are you? Why are you telling me this? And why should I believe you?What appealed more were books that presented themselves as documents. Fictional diaries, fictional collections of letters, whatever. Yes, of course they were novels, we knew they were novels, but they took the form of actual documents. Thus THIRTY, which would be a diary kept by a woman in her thirtieth year. I had just reached that age myself, and while I recognized it as a landmark, it seemed to me that turning thirty was rather a bigger deal for a woman than for a man, that it was very much a turning point. So I plunged in, and I strove throughout to write what Jan would have written in an actual diary, leaving things out, skipping days altogether, and letting characters come into and go out of her life, and events pile one on the other, the way they really do, with less pattern and logic than one typically demands of fiction. I just read the book prefatory to writing this book description, and I was surprised how much I liked it. (And how little of it I recalled.) I decided from the jump to put Jill Emerson's name on it, a name I'd shelved after WARM AND WILLING and ENOUGH OF SORROW. So Jill was back in business, and she'd go on to write two more books for Berkley's sexy series, both of them pseudo-documents like THIRTY. This ebook edition of THIRTY contains, as a bonus, the first chapter of the fifth Jill Emerson novel, THREESOME.

Thirty

"È da tanto che non leggo nulla che mi abbia così colpito e stimolato. DEAD GIRL BLUES è audacemente originale, scioccante e brillantemente raccontato. In un periodo in cui molti romanzi polizieschi si confondono tra loro, il Maestro Lawrence Block dimostra ancora una volta di essere un autore unico nel suo genere."~ David Morrell, autore bestseller del New York Times con 'Murder As a Fine Art'. Tanto vale che lo sappiate subito: il nuovo romanzo di Lawernce Block non è per tutti. È raccontato in forma di diario dal suo protagonista, e inizia quando egli entra in un bar alla periferia di Bakersfield, in California, e ne esce con una donna. E poi la violenta e la uccide. Ma, uhm, non in questo ordine. Già. Ma quello che è veramente interessante è ciò che fa nel resto della sua vita... Lawrence Block scrive e pubblica romanzi gialli da sessant'anni. Ha ricevuto riconoscimenti alla carriera negli Stati Uniti e in Gran Bretagna. Suoi libri sono stati premiati e sono a volte diventati best sellers. Da parecchi di loro sono stati tratti dei film. Ecco quello che egli stesso ha detto di Dead Girl Blues: "Non penso che sia molto commerciale. E vi sono elementi che potrebbero disgustare molti lettori. Ma, sapete, Dead Girl Blues non mi deve nulla. Non avevo progettato di scriverlo, perciò non serve che mi faccia guadagnare denaro per giustificare il tempo che mi è servito per scriverlo. Il libro si giustifica da sé stesso. Lo pubblicherò il giorno del mio 82esimo compleanno, e voi tutti potrete comperarlo o non comperarlo, leggerlo o non leggerlo, vi potrà piacere o non piacere. L'ho fatto leggere ad alcuni amici delle cui opinioni mi fido, e mi hanno detto che Dead Girl Blues è una delle cose migliori che io abbia scritto. E hanno anche aggiunto di capire quali problemi potrebbe avere. Ma l'ho riletto la settimana scorsa, e mi sono convinto che D. G. B. è esattamente come io lo volevo. Quando mai questo accade? E un vecchio come me cosa potrebbe desiderare di più?" "Freddo e buio come l'altra faccia della Luna, ma con una prosa secca come una modella scheltrica, DEAD GIRL BLUES è come il cadavere dal quale non è possibile distogliere lo sguardo. Uno stile tagliente, caratterizzazioni che hanno origine dalla parte primitiva del cervello, quella dei rettili, una inquietante identificazione col narratore che dà i brividi. Non sono riuscito a smettere di leggerlo e, poco ma sicuro, non lo volevo. L'autentica visione della mente di qualcuno felicemente antisociale, che ci può spaventosamente ricordare l'alta faccia dell'umanità e il rapporto universale che tutti noi abbiamo con essa. Un cupo capolavoro di narrativa".~ Joe R. Lansdale "Sento ancora nella pelle gli artigli di DEAD GIRL BLUES. È come una pastiglia che rilascia lentamente terrore e che mi ha inchiodato nei panni di un altro, facendomi continuamente torcere le budella. Chi conosce le sue opere ha già visto Block farlo, e ci si meraviglia di come ci riesca senza sforzo apparente. Ma questo.! Forse il suo libro migliore, e questo la dice lunga".~Tom Straw "DEAD GIRL BLUES sicuramente farà sentire offesi alcuni lettori, ma a me è piaciuto intensamente. È scritto magnificamente e la voce del narratore ha il tono perfetto, tranquillo e inquietante insieme. Il libro mi ricorda, in modo molto positivo, le prime opere di Charles Willeford. Se amate il genere noir, questo è il vostro libro.~Lee Goldberg

Dead Girl Blues — Edizione Italiana

C'est à une réunion des Alcooliques Anonymes que Matt Scudder et Jack Ellery se retrouvent en 1980. Enfants, ils rêvaient d'être flics, mais seul Matt l'est devenu, Jack  ayant à l'inverse effectué  plusieurs séjours en prison pendant ce temps.  Huit mois passent. Scudder retrouve , qui ne boit toujours plus mais présente un visage tuméfié. Puis plus de nouvelles, jusqu'au jour où Gregory Stillman, le parrain AA de Jack, lui apprend que ce dernier a été assassiné et que, dans un écrit, il a raconté tous ses crimes, de sang pour certains.
Que faire ? Transmettre cette confession aux flics enquêtant sur le meurtre pour qu'ils aillent questionner des gens qui n'ont rien à voir avec cette histoire ou la cacher et courir le risque de laisser filer un assassin ? Scudder prend les choses en mains et de fil en aiguille, non seulement découvre la solution, mais aussi - et c'est ce qui fait toute la beauté de ce grand livre plein de nostalgie -, retrouve tous les carrefours de sa propre existence.

A Dance at the Slaughterhouse - A Matthew Scudder Crime Novel

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