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Primordial Strength Inc. Used - Like New. Used - Like New. Book is new and unread but may have minor shelf wear. Ships from UK in 48 hours or less (usually same day). Your purchase help… Altro …

Primordial Strength Inc. Used - Like New. Used - Like New. Book is new and unread but may have minor shelf wear. Ships from UK in 48 hours or less (usually same day). Your purchase helps support Sri Lankan Children's Charity 'The Rainbow Centre'. 100% money back guarantee. We are a world class secondhand bookstore based in Hertfordshire, United Kingdom and specialize in high quality textbooks across an enormous variety of subjects. We aim to provide a vast range of textbooks, rare and collectible books at a great price. Our donations to The Rainbow Centre have helped provide an education and a safe haven to hundreds of children who live in appalling conditions. We provide a 100% money back guarantee and are dedicated to providing our customers with the highest standards of service in the bookselling industry., Primordial Strength Inc, 5, Independently published, 2019-03-21. Paperback. Very Good. 0.2800 9.0000 6.0000. Book has some overall wear, like shelf wear., Independently published, 2019-03-21, 3, Vintage. Good. 5.1 x 0.73 x 8 inches. Paperback. 2004. 336 pages. Cover lightly worn.<br>From David Guterson-bestselling author of Snow Falling on Cedars-comes this emotionally charged, provocative novel about what happens when a fifteen-year-old gir l becomes an instrument of divine grace. Ann Holmes is a fragile , pill-popping teenaged runaway who receives a visitation from th e Virgin Mary one morning while picking mushrooms in the woods of North Fork, Washington. In the ensuing days the miracle recurs, and the declining logging town becomes the site of a pilgrimage o f the faithful and desperate. As these people flock to Ann-and as Ann herself is drawn more deeply into what is either holiness or madness-Our Lady of the Forest-seamlessly splices the miraculous and the mundane. Editorial Reviews Review Outstanding....Our L ady of the Forest is surely one of this year's best novels.-The P lain Dealer An intense and affecting journey of faith, miracle a nd humanity.-The Denver Post Like a latter-day Dostoyevsky, Gute rson dips into the world of ordinary people....A disturbing novel that challenges us to consider the power and mystery of faith, a nd what role religious belief should play in an unjust world.-Chi cago Tribune Epic....Eccentric, accomplished....[Guterson is] wr iting with more humor than ever before.-The New York Times Book R eview A thoughtful...rumination on faith and human frailty.-Ente rtainment Weekly From the Inside Flap From David Guterson?bestse lling author of Snow Falling on Cedars?comes this emotionally cha rges, provocative novel about what happens when a fifteen-year-ol d girl becomes an instrument of divine grace. Ann Holmes is a fr agile, pill-popping teenaged runaway who receives a visitation fr om the Virgin Mary one morning while picking mushrooms in the woo ds of North Fork, Washington. In the ensuing days the miracle rec urs, and the declining logging town becomes the site of a pilgrim age of the faithful and desperate. As these people flock to Ann?a nd as Ann herself is drawn more deeply into what is either holine ss or madness?Our Lady of the Forest?seamlessly splices the mirac ulous and the mundane. From the Back Cover From David Guterson-- bestselling author of Snow Falling on Cedars--comes this emotiona lly charged, provocative novel about what happens when a fifteen- year-old girl becomes an instrument of divine grace. Ann Holmes is a fragile, pill-popping teenaged runaway who receives a visita tion from the Virgin Mary one morning while picking mushrooms in the woods of North Fork, Washington. In the ensuing days the mira cle recurs, and the declining logging town becomes the site of a pilgrimage of the faithful and desperate. As these people flock t o Ann--and as Ann herself is drawn more deeply into what is eithe r holiness or madness--Our Lady of the Forest--seamlessly splices the miraculous and the mundane. About the Author David Guterson is the author of a collection of short stories, The Country Ahea d of Us, the Country Behind; Family Matters: Why Homeschooling Ma kes Sense; Snow Falling on Cedars, which won the 1995 PEN/Faulkne r Award, the Pacific Northwest Bookseller Association Award, and was an international bestseller; and the national bestseller East of the Mountains. Excerpt. ® Reprinted by permission. All right s reserved. I Annunciation NOVEMBER 10-NOVEMBER 13, 1999 The gir l's errand in the forest that day was to gather chanterelle mushr ooms in a bucket to sell in town at dusk. According to her own ac count and the accounts of others in the North Fork Campground who would later be questioned by the diocesan committee, by Father C ollins of Saint Joseph's of North Fork, by the bishop's represent ative, and by reporters covering the purported apparitions--inclu ding tabloid journalists who treated the story like a visitation by Martians or the birth of a two-headed infant--the girl left he r camp before eight o'clock and walked alone into the woods. She wore a sweatshirt with its hood drawn tight. She didn't speak to others of her intentions. Setting out with no direction in mind, she crossed a maple bottom and a copse of alders, traversed a cre ek on a rotten log, then climbed a ridge into deep rain forest an d began searching for mushrooms in earnest. As she went the girl ate potato chips and knelt beside rivulets to drink. She swallow ed the antihistamine that kept her allergies at bay. Other than l ooking for mushrooms, she listened for the lonely music of birds and--she confessed this later to Father Collins--stopped twice to masturbate. It was a still day with no rain or fog and no wind s tirring branches in the trees, the kind of stillness that stops t ime, or seems to, for a hiker. The girl paused often to consider it and to acknowledge her aloneness. She prayed the rosary on her knees--it was Wednesday, November tenth, so she said the Gloriou s Mysteries--before following an elk trail into country she hadn' t visited or perhaps didn't recall, a flat grown up with Douglas firs, choked by blowdowns and vine maple draped with witches'-hai r. Here she lay in a bed of moss and was seized by a dream that s he lay in moss while a shape, a form--a bird of prey, a luminous man--bore down on her from above. Rising, she found chanterelles buried in the interstices of liverworts and in the shadows of wi ndfalls. She cut them low, brushed them clean and set them carefu lly in her bucket. For a long time she picked steadily, moving fa rther into the woods, pleased because it was a rainless day on wh ich she was finding enough mushrooms to justify being there. They drew her on like a spell. At noon she read from her pocket cate chism, then prayed--Give us this day our daily bread--before cros sing herself and eating more potato chips and a package of two ch ocolate donuts. Resting, she heard the note of a thrush, but mute d, faint, and distant. Sunlight now filtered through the trees on an angle through the highest branches and she sought out a broad , strong shaft of it, stippled with boiling dust and litterfall, and lay on her back in its luminous warmth, her face turned towar d heaven. Again she slept and again she dreamed, this time of a f urtive woman in the trees, lit in darkness as though by a spotlig ht, who exhorted her to rise from the ground and continue her sea rch for chanterelles. The girl got up and traveled on. She was l ost now in an incidental way and the two strange dreams disturbed her. Feeling a vague desire again, she put her hand between her legs, aimlessly, still walking. A cold or flu had hold of her, sh e thought. Her allergies and asthma seemed heightened too. Her pe riod had started. The newspapers reported that her name was Ann Holmes, after her maternal grandmother, who died from sepsis and pneumonia a week before Ann was born. Ann and her mother, fifteen at Ann's birth, had lived with Ann's grandfather, a long-haul tr ucker, a man with complicated gambling debts, in a series of rent al homes. The newspapers, though, did not uncover that her mother 's boyfriend, a methamphetamine addict, had raped Ann opportunist ically beginning when she was fourteen. Afterward he would lie be side her with an expression of antic, contorted suffering etching his hairless long face. Sometimes he cried or apologized, but mo re often he threatened to kill her. When Ann was fifteen she too k a driver's education class, which she missed only once, on a Fr iday afternoon, in order to have an abortion. Eight months later she expelled her second fetus into the toilet at a minimart on th e heels of a bout with nausea. On her sixteenth birthday she boug ht a two-door car, dented or crumpled in more than one panel, for three hundred and fifty dollars earned foraging for truffles and chanterelles. The next morning, she drove away. Ann was diminut ive, sparrow-boned, and when she covered her head with her sweats hirt hood it was easy to mistake her for a boy of twelve, fair-sk inned and dreamy. She often wheezed asthmatically, sneezed feebly , blew her nose, and coughed against her fist or palm. On most mo rnings her jeans were wet with the rain or dew transferred from t he fronds of ferns and her hands looked pink and raw. She smelled of wood smoke, leaves and rank clothes and had lived for a month in the North Fork Campground in a canvas tent by the river. Othe rs living there told reporters that she'd rigged up a plastic tar p with twine and often sat under it against a log, reading by fir elight. Most described her as silent and subdued, though not unpl easant or inspiring unease, not threatening in her estrangement. Those who saw her in the woods that fall--other mushroom gatherer s, mostly, but also several elk and deer hunters and once a Stins on Company timber cruiser--were struck by her inconsequence and b y the wariness of her eyes in shadow underneath the drawn hood. A mushroom picker named Carolyn Greer who lived in a van in the N orth Fork Campground claimed that on an evening in mid-October sh e had eaten dinner with Ann Holmes, sharing soup, bread and canne d peaches and speaking with her of present matters but never of t hemselves, their histories. Ann had not had much to say. Mostly s he stirred her soup pot, listened, and stared at the flames of th e fire. She did indicate a concern for her car, whose transmissio n no longer allowed her to shift gears or to travel anywhere. The car's battery had petered out, and its windshield and windows ap peared permanently clouded with an opaque, viscous vapor. It sat beside her canvas tent, gathering fallen cedar needles, both seat s loaded with plastic bags, paper sacks, and cardboard boxes stuf fed with her belongings. Carolyn didn't tell the bishop's repres entative that while the soup was simmering they got high together . Primarily, it was nobody's business. Furthermore, it implicated her too. Carolyn indulged in pot regularly. It surprised her tha t Ann, after a few tokes, did not become effusive and talkative, like most stoned people around a campfire. Instead she became eve n more reserved, more hermetic and taciturn. Her face disappeared inside the hood of her sweatshirt. She spoke when spoken to, ter se but polite, and poked incessantly at the wood coals. Her only subject was her dead car. Stranded, Ann had resorted to the coun ty bus, which stopped at a convenience store a half mile from the campground and dropped her in front of the MarketTime in North F ork for eighty-five cents, one way. She paid, the county driver r eported, with exact change, sometimes using pennies, and replied in kind when he greeted her. Once he commented on the mushrooms i n her bucket, on their number, size, and golden hue, and she gave him some loosely wrapped in newspaper she found at the back of t he bus. On the highway, she slept with her head against the windo w. Frequently she read from a paperback book he eventually discer ned was a catechism. When she got off in town she said thank you or good-bye, her hood still drawn around her face. A half dozen times she accepted a ride from a mushroom and brush picker named Steven Mossberger, who wore a dense beard, Coke-bottle glasses, a nd a wool cap pulled low on his temples. Seeing her carrying her bucket of chanterelles and walking the road one afternoon, Mossbe rger rolled down the window of his pick-up, explained that he liv ed in the campground as she did, that he picked mushrooms just li ke her, then asked if she wanted a lift. Ann refused him without affront. No, thanks, she said. I'm okay. The next time he saw he r, in late October, he pulled over at dusk in a modest rain and s he accepted without hesitating. When he leaned across to push aja r the door, she got in smelling of wet clothes and mushrooms, set the bucket of chanterelles on her lap, and said, It's a little w et out. Where are you from? Mossberger asked. Down in Oregon. N ot far from the coast. What's your name? She gave him her first . He told her his full name. He put his hand out to shake hers an d she slipped her hand into his. He wanted to believe, afterward , that this moment was freighted with spiritual meaning, that in taking her hand he felt the hand of God, and he described it that way to the diocesan committee and to the bishop's representative --a hand that was more than other hands, he said, connecting him with something deeper than his own life--but in fact, he understo od privately, what he felt was probably little more than the smal l thrill a man gets from shaking hands with a woman. In North Fo rk, Ann sold her mushrooms to Bob Frame, a mechanic who worked on logging equipment and ran his mushroom business on the side. Gar rulous and jocular most of the time, he spoke with an instinctive brevity and disdain to the first journalist who entreated him. T he girl's mushrooms, Frame said, were always meticulously field c leaned, and her bucket contained few culls. Only once, on an even ing of bitter rain, did she drink the coffee he kept about as a g ratuity for his pickers. For a few minutes she sat by the electri c heater, sipping from a Styrofoam cup, watching as he layered mu shrooms in newspaper and weighed the day's take on a scale. It se emed to him, working close to her, that she hadn't bathed or laun dered her clothing in a long time, maybe weeks. He did recall tha t she kept her pay in a leather pouch worn around her neck, not i n the pocket of her jeans. Her shoes, he noted, were well-worn, t he sole of one of them separating from the upper so that her damp wool sock showed through. Even in his shed she wore her sweatshi rt hood and kept her hands in her sweatshirt pockets. Frame didn 't tell the journalist that she could give no social security num ber when he requested one for his records. He'd paid her cash and noted nothing in his books of recompense made to an Ann Holmes, and because of that small worrisome omission he was angry with hi mself for having said anything about Ann Holmes at all. He spoke to no more journalists afterward and proclaimed in town that the media circus perpetually surrounding the visionary was a spectacl e he couldn't participate in and still live with himself. In trut h it was the specter of an IRS audit that made him afraid to spea k of her, though he did tell his wife, swearing her to secrecy, t hat once when the girl freed her pouch from her sweatshirt she al so inadvertently brought forth a necklace bearing a crucifix, whi ch Bob said glowed a brilliant gold. From Frame's shed Ann carri ed her bucket to MarketTime and bought a few things each evening. One checker recalled her proclivity for sugar wafers, small cart ons of chocolate milk, deli burritos, and Starbursts. No one else reme, Vintage, 2004, 2.5, -: Heinemann, 2003. Paperback. Good. -. John Fulton`s More Than Enough is a powerful debut novel about a month in the life of one American family as they struggle to pull together and break apart in Salt Lake City, Utah After a gang of neighborhood boys attack Steven and his sister Jenny and dislocate Steven`s shoulder, the Parkers live well on the resulting settlement money. Their dream of success seems fulfilled. But their period of high living soon ends, and each family member grasps at what they want most. Jenny, the 14 year-old baby of the family, longs for normalcy, a state she tries to achieve in her Mormon friends` religion and life. A stubborn optimist, Steven`s father clings to his hopes of success even as his more practical wife tires of his dreams and longs for stability. For Steven, nothing is more important than keeping his teetering family together., Heinemann, 2003, 2.5, Univ of Chicago Pr. Used - Good. Ships from UK in 48 hours or less (usually same day). Your purchase helps support Sri Lankan Children's Charity 'The Rainbow Centre'. Ex-library, so some stamps and wear, but in good overall condition. 100% money back guarantee. We are a world class secondhand bookstore based in Hertfordshire, United Kingdom and specialize in high quality textbooks across an enormous variety of subjects. We aim to provide a vast range of textbooks, rare and collectible books at a great price. Our donations to The Rainbow Centre have helped provide an education and a safe haven to hundreds of children who live in appalling conditions. We provide a 100% money back guarantee and are dedicated to providing our customers with the highest standards of service in the bookselling industry., Univ of Chicago Pr, 2.5, Ballantine Books, 1988. Paperback. Very Good. Jurassic Park author Michael Crichton is possibly the best science teacher for the masses since H.G. Wells, and Sphere, his thriller about a mysteriou s spherical spaceship at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, is classic Cricht on. A group of not-very-complex characters (portrayed in the film by Sharon Stone, Dustin Hoffman, Samuel L. Jackson, and Queen Latifah) assemble to s olve a cleverly designed roller coaster of a mystery while attempting (with mixed success) to avoid sudden death and expounding (much more successfull y) on the latest, coolest scientific ideas, including the existence of blac k holes. Somehow, Crichton manages to convey the complicated stuff in utter ly simplistic prose, making him, as his old pal Steven Spielberg puts it, " the high priest of high concept." Yet there is more to Crichton than scienc e and big-ticket show biz. He is also, as any reader of his startling memoi r Travels knows, a bit of a mystic--he is entirely open to notions spouted by spoon-bending psychics that most science writers would scorn. Sphere is not only a gratifying sci-fi suspense tale; it also reflects Crichton's kee n interest in the unexplained powers of the human mind. When something pass es through a black hole in Crichton's fiction, a lesson is learned. The boo k also contains another profound lesson: when you're staring down a giant s quid with an eyeball the size of a dinner plate, don't blink first., Ballantine Books, 1988, 3, Loma Linda, California, U.S.A.: Tarascon Publishing. Soft Cover. 1882742311 Very good condition. No interior writing or highlighting. Tarascon Pocket Pharmacopoeia: 2004 Deluxe Lab-coat Pocket Edition By Steven M. Green (Author) roduct Description This is the Pocket Pharmacopoeia for the power user! The expanded version of the classic Tarascon Pocket Pharmacopoeia continues the high-quality tradition of a convenient and organized pocket manual detailing typical drug dosing (both FDA approved and off-label uses), available trade and generic formulations, metabolism, Canadian trade names, relative pricing information, and safety in pregnancy and lactation. The Deluxe takes it all a step further by including additional drugs and dosing indications, black-box warnings, notes regarding adverse effects and drug interactions, and a table of cytochrome P450 isozymes. Packed with this expanded information and more tables than the Classic, the Deluxe is still small enough to comfortably fit in your lab coat pocket. As with the Classic, all entries are meticulously peer-reviewed by drug information experts and clinicians of multiple specialties. Product Details Paperback: 304 pages Publisher: Tarascon Publishing (2004) Language: English ISBN-10: ISBN-13: 9781882742318 Product Dimensions: 7.1 x 4.6 x 0.6 inches . Very Good. 2004., Tarascon Publishing, 2004, 3, Teachers College Press, 2003. Very Good. A copy that has been read, but is in excellent condition. Pages are intact and not marred by notes or highlighting. The spine remains undamaged. This book explores the power of using media education to help urban teenage rs develop their critical thinking and literacy skills. Drawing on his 20 y ears of experience working with inner-city youth at the acclaimed Education al Video Center (EVC) in New York City, Steven Goodman looks closely at bot h the problems and possibilities of this model of media education. Responding to our national concern about adolescents, literacy, media, and violence, Teaching Youth Media: Describes the changes schools and after-school programs need to make in ord er to create a media education that empowers students to change their world . Explores the intersection of literacy and culture as youth learn to analyze information from a variety of sources, including television, newspapers, b ooks, films, school, church, and their lives outside of school. Features case studies of students and teachers engaged in making video docu mentaries at EVC and in an alternative high school. Illuminates the practical day-to-day challenges faced by professional devel opers and teachers working to change the way education is practiced in thei r classes and schools. Looks at the profound "disconnect" that results when teachers and curriculu m fail to recognize the social and cultural contexts in which urban student s live. Explores the critical thinking and technical video arts skills students develop as they learn collaboratively to conduct interviews, research, shoot, log, and edit their documentaries., Teachers College Press, 2003, 3, St. Martin's Press. Very Good. 8.25 x 1 x 5.5 inches. Hardcover. 2007. 176 pages. <br>From #1 blockbuster bestselling author Janet Evano vich comes a Stephanie Plum novel that takes adventure, action, s uspense (and maybe even true love?) to new heights. WATCH YOUR BA CK . . . LOOK BOTH WAYS . . . BECAUSE LOVE IS IN THE AIR . . . A ND THAT MEANS BIG TROUBLE! Mysterious men have a way of showing u p in Stephanie Plum's apartment. When the shadowy Diesel appears, he has a task for Stephanie--and he's not taking no for an answe r. Annie Hart is a relationship expert who is wanted for armed ro bbery and assault with a deadly weapon. Stephanie needs to find h er, fast. Diesel knows where she is. So they make a deal: He'll h elp her get Annie if Stephanie plays matchmaker to several of Ann ie's most difficult clients. But someone wants to find Annie even more than Diesel and Stephanie. Someone with a nasty temper. And someone with unmentionable skills. Does Diesel know more than he 's saying about Annie Hart? Does Diesel have secrets he's keeping from Stephanie and the two men in her life--Ranger and Morelli? With Stephanie Plum in over her head, things are sure to get a li ttle dicey and a little explosive, Jersey style! Editorial Revi ews From Publishers Weekly In this tart and hilarious between-th e-numbers Stephanie Plum novel from bestseller Evanovich (Twelve Sharp), the Jersey bond enforcement agent, who already has two gu ys in her life (cop Joe Morelli and bounty hunter Ranger), reconn ects with Diesel, a third heartthrob. Diesel offers Stephanie a d eal: if he lets her find Annie Hart, a relationship coach who's b ecome a big-ticket bond on Stephanie's Most Wanted List after fle eing a charge for a robbery she didn't commit, then Stephanie can do Annie a big favor by playing Cupid for a number of Annie's lo velorn clients, including a shy butcher, a desperate vet, an over worked single mom, a 30-something virgin and the marriage-phobic fellow who just happens to be Stephanie's pregnant sister's boyfr iend. Diesel and Stephanie's short but sweet adventure ends on a teasing note that will leave fans hungry for the next juicy Plum- a-thon. (Jan.) Copyright ® Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. From Booklist A perf ect Valentine's Day bonbon, a dreamy comma in the numbered series that features Stephanie Plum of Trenton, bounty hunter and gal f rom the Burg. A few years ago at Christmas, Diesel appeared in St ephanie's apartment. He's back, still blond, disheveled, and now hiding matchmaker Annie Hart. Stephanie is looking for Annie beca use she's wanted on assault. Diesel wants Stephanie to do the mat chmaking in Annie's place and then he will hand her over so Steph anie can collect the bond. Is Diesel an angel? He does have a few interesting abilities, and he doesn't seem bothered by walls and doors. There is a hint of sweet magic as this odd couple bring t ogether a butcher and a barista, a woman with too many kids and p ets and a lonely veterinarian, and even Lula, Stephanie's plus-si zed colleague, and Tank (longtime readers will know the silent Ta nk as Ranger's second in command). Evanovich keeps the language l ight and sweet and the action nonstop, filling a few plot holes i n the main series and finally getting Stephanie's sister, Valerie , married to the ill-named Albert Kloughn on Valentine's Day. Ado rable. GraceAnne DeCandido Copyright © American Library Associati on. All rights reserved Review Blockbuster author Janet Evanovi ch s Stephanie Plum novels are: LAUGH-OUT-LOUD FUNNY. St. Louis Post Dispatch HOT AND SASSY. The Boston Herald Consistently c raveable goodies. People IRRESISTIBLE. Houston Chronicle BRI LLIANTLY EVOCATIVE. Denver Post MUST READS. Midwest Book Revie w OUTRAGEOUS. Publishers Weekly STUNNING. Booklist PLUM LOVI N is: A perfect Valentine s Day bonbon, a dreamy comma in the nu mbered series. Booklist Hilarious and sexy. The Free Lance S tar A Valentine s Day treat...laughter guaranteed. Romantic Ti mes BOOKreviews Spicy...fun with a capital F. Janet Evanovich is the author of the Stephanie Plum books, including One for the Money and Sizzling Sixteen, and the Diesel & Tucker series, inclu ding Wicked Appetite. Janet studied painting at Douglass College, but that art form never quite fit, and she soon moved on to writ ing stories. She didn't have instant success: she collected a big box of rejection letters. As she puts it, When the box was full I burned the whole damn thing, crammed myself into pantyhose and went to work for a temp agency. But after a few months of secreta rial work, she managed to sell her first novel for $2,000. She im mediately quit her job and started working full-time as a writer. After 12 romance novels, she switched to mystery, and created St ephanie Plum. The rest is history. Janet's favorite exercise is s hopping, and her drug of choice is Cheeze Doodles. She and her hu sband live in New Hampshire, in house with a view of the Connecti cut River Valley. Excerpt. ® Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Chapter One Men are like shoes. Some fit better than o thers. And sometimes you go out shopping and there's nothing you like. And then, as luck would have it, the next week you find two that are perfect, but you don't have the money to buy both. I wa s currently in just such a position . . . not with shoes, but wit h men. And this morning it got worse. A while ago, a guy named Di esel showed up in my kitchen. Poof, he was there. Like magic. And then days later, poof, he was gone. Now, without warning, he was once again standing in front of me. Surprise, he said. I'm back. He was imposing at just over six feet. Built solid with broad sh oulders and deep-set, assessing brown eyes. He looked like he cou ld seriously kick ass and not break a sweat. He had a lot of wavy , sandy blond hair cut short and fierce blond eyebrows. I placed his age at late twenties, early thirties. I knew very little abou t his background. Clearly he'd been lucky with the gene pool. He was a nice-looking guy, with perfect white teeth and a smile that made a woman get all warm inside. It was a cold February morning , and he'd dropped into my apartment wearing a multicolored scarf wrapped around his neck, a black wool peacoat, a washed-out thre e-button thermal knit shirt, faded jeans, beat-up boots, and his usual bad attitude. I knew that a muscular, athletic body was und er the coat. I wasn't sure if there was anything good buried unde r the attitude. My name is Stephanie Plum. I'm average height and average weight and have an average vocabulary for someone living in Jersey. I have shoulder-length brown hair that is curly or wa vy, depending on the humidity. My eyes are blue. My heritage is H ungarian and Italian. My family is dysfunctional in a normal sort of way. There are a bunch of things I'd like to do with my life, but right now I'm happy to put one foot in front of the other an d button my jeans without having a roll of fat hang over the wais tband. I work as a bond enforcement agent for my cousin Vinnie, a nd my success at the job has more to do with luck and tenacity th an with skill. I live in a budget apartment on the outskirts of T renton, and my only roommate is a hamster named Rex. So I felt un derstandably threatened by having this big guy suddenly appear in my kitchen. I hate when you just show up in front of me, I said. Can't you ring my doorbell like a normal person? First off, I'm not exactly normal. And second, you should be happy I didn't walk into your bathroom when you were wet and naked. He flashed me th e killer smile. Although I wouldn't have minded finding you wet a nd naked. In your dreams. Yeah, Diesel said. It's happened. He st uck his head in my refrigerator and rooted around. Not a lot in t here, but he found one last bottle of beer and some slices of Ame rican cheese. He ate the cheese and chugged the beer. Are you sti ll seeing that cop? Joe Morelli. Yep. What about the guy behind d oor number two? Ranger? Yeah, I'm still working with Ranger. Rang er was my bounty hunter mentor and more. Problem was, the more pa rt wasn't clearly defined. I heard a snort and a questioning woof from the vicinity of my bedroom. What's that? Diesel asked. More lli's working double shifts, and I'm taking care of his dog, Bob. There was the sound of dog feet running, and Bob rounded a corne r and slid to a stop on the kitchen linoleum. He was a big-footed , shaggy, orange-haired beast with floppy ears and happy brown ey es. Probably golden retriever, but he'd never win best of breed. He sat his ass down on Diesel's boot and wagged his tail at him. Diesel absently fondled Bob's head, and Bob drooled a little on D iesel's pant leg, hoping for a scrap of cheese. Is this visit soc ial or professional? I asked Diesel. Professional. I'm looking fo r a guy named Bernie Beaner. I need to shut him down. If I'm to b elieve Diesel, there are people on this planet who have abilities that go beyond what would be considered normal human limitations . These people aren't exactly superheroes. It's more that they're ordinary souls with the freakish ability to levitate a cow or sl ow-pitch a lightning bolt. Some are good and some are bad. Diesel tracks the bad. The alternative explanation for Diesel is that h e's a wacko. What's Beaner's problem? I asked. Diesel dropped a s mall leftover chunk of cheese into Rex's cage and gave another ch unk to Bob. Gone off the edge. His marriage went into the shitter , and he blamed it on another Unmentionable. Now he's out to get her. Unmentionable? That's what we call ourselves. It sounds bett er than freak of nature. Only marginally. Bob was pushing against Diesel, trying to get him to give up more cheese. Bob was about ninety pounds of rangy dog, and Diesel was two hundred of hard mu scle. It would take a lot more than Bob to bulldoze Diesel around my kitchen. And you're in my apartment, why? I asked Diesel. I n eed help. No. No, no, no, no, no. You have no choice, sweetie pie . The woman Beaner's looking for is on your most-wanted list. And she's in my custody. If you want your big-ticket bond, you have to help me. That's horrible. That's blackmail or bribery or somet hing. Yeah. Deal with it. Who's the woman? I asked Diesel. Annie Hart. You've gotta be kidding. Vinnie's on a rant over her. I spe nt all day yesterday looking for her. She's wanted for armed robb ery and assault with a deadly weapon. It's all bogus . . . not th at either of us gives a rat's ass. Diesel was systematically goin g through my cupboards looking for food, and Bob was sticking clo se. Anyway, bottom line is I've got her tucked away until I can s ort things out with crazy Bernie. Bernie is the . . . um, Unmenti onable who's after Annie? Yeah. Problem is, Annie's one of those crusader types. Takes her job real serious. Says it's her calling . So, the only way I could get Annie to stay hidden was to promis e her I'd take over her caseload. I suck at the kind of stuff she does, so I'm passing it off to you. And what do I get out of thi s? You get Annie. As soon as I take care of Bernie, I'll turn Ann ie over to you. I don't see where this is a big favor to me. If I don't help you, Annie will come out of hiding, I'll snag her, an d my job will be done. Diesel had his thumbs hooked into his jean s pockets; his eyes were locked onto mine, his expression was ser ious. What'll it take? I need help with this, and everyone has a price. What's yours? How about twenty bucks when you close a case ? A hundred, and nothing illegal or life-threatening. Deal, Diese l said. Here's the sad truth, I had nothing better to do. And I n eeded money. The bonds office was beyond slow. I had one FTA to h unt down, and Diesel had her locked away. Just exactly what am I supposed to do? I asked him. Annie's bond agreement lists her occ upation as a relationship expert. Diesel gave a bark of laughter. Relationship expert. I guess that could cover it. I don't even k now what that means! What the heck is a relationship expert? Dies el had dropped a battered leather knapsack onto my counter when h e popped into my kitchen. He went to the knapsack, removed a larg e yellow envelope, and handed it over to me. It's all in this env elope. I opened the envelope and pulled out a bunch of folders cr ammed with photographs and handwritten pages. She's got a condens ed version for you clipped to the top folder, Diesel said. Got ev erything prioritized. Says you better hustle because Valentine's Day is coming up fast. And? Personally, I don't get turned on by Valentine's Day, with the sappy cards and creepy cupids and the h earts-and-flowers routine. But Annie is to Valentine's Day what S anta Claus is to Christmas. She makes it happen. Of course, Annie operates on a smaller scale. It's not like she's got ten thousan d elves working for her. Diesel was a really sexy-looking guy, bu t I thought he might be one step away from permanent residence at the funny farm. I still don't get my role in this. I just handed you five open files. It's up to you to make sure those five peop le have a good Valentine's Day. Oh boy. Listen, I know it's lame, Diesel said, but I'm stuck with it. And now you're stuck with it . And I'm going to have a power shortage if I don't get breakfast . So find me a diner. Then I'm going to do my thing and look for Bernie, and you're going to do your thing and work your way down Annie's list. I clipped a leash onto Bob's collar and the three o f us walked down the stairs and out to my car. I was driving a ye llow Ford Escape that was good for hauling felons and Bob dogs. D oes Bob go everywhere? Diesel wanted to know. Pretty much. If I l eave him at home, he gets lonely and eats the furniture. Forty mi nutes later, Diesel was finishing up a mountain of scrambled eggs , bacon, pancakes, home fries, and sourdough toast with jam . . . all smothered in maple syrup. I'd ordered a similar breakfast bu t had to give up about a third of the way through. I pushed my pl ate away and asked that the food be put in a to-go box. I drank m y coffee and thumbed through the first file. Charlene Klinger. Ag e forty-two. Divorced. Four children, ages seven, eight, ten, and twelve. Worked for the DMV. There was an unflattering snapshot o f her squinting into the sun. She was wearing, St. Martin's Press, 2007, 3, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 2007. First Edition. Softcover. Fine Condition. Second impression of the First Edition. Size: Octavo 8vo (standard book size). 283 pages. Text body is clean, and free from previous owner annotation, underlining and highlighting. Binding is tight, covers and spine fully intact. No foxing in this copy. All edges clean, neat and free of foxing. There is a small remainder mark. All my books are available and are shipped from our Australian address.. With the publication of the international bestseller The Selfish Gene some thirty years ago, Richard Dawkins powerfully captured a newly emerging way of understanding evolution--a gene's eye view. Dawkins went on to publish five more bestselling books, including The Blind Watchmaker and Unweaving the Rainbow. He is one of the most high profile public intellectuals today and any attempt to understand the scientific view of the world must grapple with his ideas.Now, in this exciting collection of original essays, some of the world's leading thinkers offer their take on how Dawkins has changed the way we think. Readers will find stimulating pieces by Daniel Dennett, the renowned philosopher of mind and author of Darwin's Dangerous Idea; Steven Pinker, the brilliant Harvard linguist who wrote The Language Instinct and The Blank Slate; Matt Ridley, author of the bestselling Genome; and James Watson, who with Francis Crick discovered the structure of DNA, arguably the greatest scientific discovery of the last century. Dawkins' widely admired literary style forms the subject of several pieces, including one from novelist Philip Pullman (author of the bestselling His Dark Materials trilogy). As one of the world's best known rationalists, Dawkins' stance on religion is another theme in this collection, explored by Simon Blackburn, Michael Ruse, Michael Shermer, and the Bishop of Oxford. Numbering twenty in all, these articles are not simply rosy tributes, but explore how Dawkins' ideas have shaped thinking and public debate, and include elements of criticism as well as thoughtful praise. Richard Dawkins' work has had the rare distinction of generating as much excitement outside the scientific community as within it. This stimulating volume is a superb summation of the depth and range of his influence. Quantity Available: 1. Category: Science & Technology; Essays & Literary Criticism. ISBN: . ISBN/EAN: 9780199214662. Pictures of this item not already displayed here available upon request. Inventory No: 3317. . 9780199214662, Oxford University Press, 2007, 5, Plymouth, MI: Caliber Comics, 1996. 1st printing. Saddle-stapled wraps. Light shelfwear. Very good. [48]pp., with semi-glossy color covers, and b/w interior. Combines elements from the science fiction, Gothic, and political thriller genres to tell the story of an amnesiac drifter named Peter Collinson who makes some high-powered deep state players nervous as he struggles to recover his past with only haunting memories and what might just be the ghost of his real identity to guide him., Caliber Comics, 1996, 3, Reading Level: Second, Third, Fourth GradeYoung readers learn about commuter trains, subways, elevated trains, high-speed trains, and other passenger trains, as well as freight trains and the many ways trains can be powered.In addition to a host of photographs clearly linked to simple text, this leveled reading book includes graphs, charts, or maps that illustrate data and travel routes.24 pages, paperback, full-color photographs, 7" x 7"., 6<