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His graphic description of their dress, their physical appearance, their customs and sexual habits forms one of the earliest written records of Viking life and leaves little to the imagination. It is more remarkable still for giving us the only eyewitness account of a Viking ship cremation, in all of its shocking ritual brutality. After fornicating with each of the senior masters, the slave girl is led to her place of death and restrained by six men while the remainder beat their shields with staves to drown out her screams.

She gave the ends to two of the men, so they could pull on them. She is then placed on a bed beside the dead warrior and the ship, with all of its bloodied contents, torched. It is a scene of spectacular horror. The many Arab encounters documented here challenge a long-held view that Eurasia was, at the time, hostile to trade. The passage of goods and slaves witnessed by Abu Hamid and others provides considerable evidence of international exchange on a vast scale.

As Abu Hamid reports, in the far north, on the shores of the Sea of Darkness, trade could take the simplest form, when one party to the exchange is forever unseen and trades only through a ritual of silent barter:. Each merchant sets his wares out in a particular place, marked with his sign.

Then they all withdraw and when they come back again, everyone finds something left beside his goods. If he approves the exchange, he takes these wares. Someone possessed of the necessary illusions without which life is unbearable? You should have. Why are you? There is no hope. Surely this is the worst part of being at the mercy of your own mind, especially when that mind lists toward the despondent at the first sign of gray: the fact that there is no way out of the reality of being you, a person who is forever noticing the grime on the bricks, the flaws in the friends — the sadness that runs under the skin of things, like blood, beginning as a trickle and ending up as a hemorrhage, staining everything.

It is a sadness that no one seems to want to talk about in public, at cocktail-party sorts of places, not even in this Age of Indiscretion. Nor is the private realm particularly conducive to airing this kind of implacably despondent feeling, no matter how willing your friends are to listen. Depression, truth be told, is both boring and threatening as a subject of conversation. It hovers behind the scenes, placated temporarily by medication and renewed energy, waiting to slither back in, unnoticed by others. It sits in the space behind your eyes, making its presence felt even in those moments when other, lighter matters are at the forefront of your mind.

It tugs at you, keeping you from ever being fully at ease. Worst of all, it honors no season and respects no calendar; it arrives precisely when it feels like it. The precipitating factors included everything and nothing, as is just about always the case — some combination of vulnerable genetics and several less-than-optimal pieces of fate. Despite my grim mood, I had somehow or other managed to put on makeup, pull on clothes, affix pearl earrings and go to a civilized old-New York type of dinner, where we talked of ongoing things — children, schools, plays to see, reasons to live as opposed to reasons to die.

But even as I talked and laughed with the other guests, my thoughts were dark, scrambling ones, ruthless in their sniping insistence. A burden. Worse than useless: worthless. Shortly past midnight, I watched the fireworks over Central Park and stared into the exploding bursts of color — red, white and blue, squiggles of green, streaks of purple, balls of silver, sparks of champagne. Make me better. Make me remember this moment of absorption in fireworks, the energy of the thing. Make me go forward. Stop listening for drum rolls. For the next six months I countered the depression with everything I had, escaping into the narcotic of reading, taking on a few writing assignments all of which I delivered weeks, if not months, late , meeting friends for dinner, teaching a writing class and even taking a trip to St.

Tropez with a close friend. I gobbled down my usual medley of pills — Lamictal, Risperdal, Wellbutrin and Lexapro — and wore an Emsam patch. I have not been free of psychotropic medication for any substantial period since my early 20s. But this was not a passing episode that a schedule full of distractions and medication could assuage. This was one of those depressions. In the weeks leading up to my checking into 4 Center, I had gone from being able to put on a faltering imitation of mental health to giving up all pretense of a manageable disguise.

Since I found it painful to be conscious, I had stopped doing much of anything except sleeping. Mornings were the worst: I got up later and later, first 11, then noon, and now it was more like 2 in the afternoon, the day three-quarters gone. When I was awake the few hours that I was , I felt a kind of lethal fatigue, as if I were swimming through tar.

Phone messages went unanswered, e-mail unread. In my inert but agitated state I could no longer concentrate long enough to read — not so much as a newspaper headline — and the idea of writing was as foreign to me as downhill racing.

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I had essentially withdrawn from communication. When I did speak, it was mostly about my wish to commit suicide, a wish that was never all that far from my mind but at times like these became insistent. Although some tiny part of me retained a dim sense of the more functioning person I once was — like a room with a closed door that was never entered anymore — it became increasingly difficult to envision myself ever inhabiting that version of myself again.

There had been too many recurrent episodes, too many years of trying to fight off this debilitating demon of a thing. It has been called by different names at different times in history — melancholia, malaise , cafard , brown study, the blues, the black dog, acedia — and has been treated as a spiritual malady, a failure of will, a biochemical malfunctioning, a psychic conundrum, sometimes all at once.

I had also quite literally ground to a halt, like a machine that had hit a glitch and frozen on the spot. I moved at a glacial pace and talked haltingly, in a voice that was lower and flatter than my usual one. Much as we would like to explain clinical depression by making it either genetics or environment, bad wiring or bad nurturing, it is usually a combination of the two that sets the illness off. It seemed safer to stay where I was, no matter how out on a ledge I felt, than to lock myself away with other desperadoes in the hope that it would prove effective.

Whatever fantasies I once harbored about the haven-like possibilities of a psychiatric facility or the promise of a definitive, once-and-for-all cure were shattered by my last stay 15 years earlier. I had written about the experience, musing on the gap between the alternately idealized and diabolical image of mental hospitals versus the more banal bureaucratic reality.

I discussed the continued stigma attached to going public with the experience of depression, but all this had been expressed by the writer in me rather than the patient, and it seemed to me that part of the appeal of the article was the impression it gave that my hospital days were behind me. It would be a betrayal of my literary persona, if nothing else, to go back into a psychiatric unit.

Indeed, I probably knew more about antidepressants than most analysts, having tried all three categories of psychotropics separately or in combination as they became available — the classic tricyclics, the now-unfashionable MAO inhibitors which come with a major drawback in the form of dietary restrictions as well as the newer S. I was originally reluctant to try pills for something that seemed so intrinsic to who I was — the state of mind in which I lived, so to speak — until one of my first psychiatrists compared my emotional state to an ulcer.

First you cure the ulcer, then you go on to talk about the way you feel. From the time I was prescribed Prozac in my early 20s before it was approved by the Food and Drug Administration, you could say that the history of depression medication and my personal history came of age together, with me in the starring role of a lab rat. Of course, none of the drugs work conclusively, and for now we are stuck with what comes down to a refined form of guesswork — odd pills that operate in not completely understood ways on neural pathways, on serotonin, norepinephrine , dopamine and what have you.

All the while the repercussions and the possible side effects which include mild trembling on the one end to tardive dyskinesia , a rare condition that causes uncontrollable grimacing, on the other end are shunted to the side until such time as they can no longer be ignored. But I was conflicted even about so primary an issue as survival. I saw myself go splat on the pavement with a kind of equanimity, with a sense of a foretold conclusion. If you are depressed enough, it seems to me, you begin to conceive of death as a cradle, rocking you gently back to a fresh life, glistening with newness, unsullied by you.

Still, one flesh-and-blood reality stood in my way: I had a daughter I loved deeply, and I understood the irreparable harm it would cause her if I took my own life, despite feeling that if I truly cared about her I would free her from the presence of a mother who was more shade than sun.

What had Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton done with their guilt feelings? I wondered. Were they more narcissistic than I or just more strong-willed? At the same time, I recognized that, for a person who was really set on ending it all, speaking your intention aloud was an act of self-betrayal. After all, in the process of articulating your death wish you were alerting other people, ensuring that they would try to stop you. The real question was why no one ever seemed to figure this grim scenario out on her own, just by looking at you.

The psychological pain was agonizing, but there was no way of proving it, no bleeding wounds to point to. One more factor worked to keep me where I was, exiled in my own apartment, a prisoner of my affliction: the specter of ECT electro-convulsive therapy. My therapist, a modern Freudian analyst whom I had been seeing for years and who had always struck me as only vaguely persuaded of the efficacy of medication for what ailed me — when I once experienced some bad side effects, he proposed that I consider going off all my pills just to see how I would fare, and after doing so I plummeted — had suddenly, in the last 10 days before I went into the hospital, become a cheerleader for undergoing ECT.

But his shift from a psychoanalytic stance that focused on the subjective mind to a neurobiological stance that focused on the hypothesized workings of the physical brain left me scared and distrustful. What if ECT would just leave me a stranger to myself, with chopped-up memories of my life before and immediately after?

I may have hated my life, but I valued my memories — even the unhappy ones, paradoxical as that may seem. I lived for the details, and the writer I once was made vivid use of them. The cartoonish image of my head being fried, tiny shocks and whiffs of smoke coming off it as the electric current went through, haunted me even though I knew that ECT no longer was administered with convulsive force, jolting patients in their straps.

But in the end, no matter how much I wanted to stay put, I ran out of resistance. Suicide could wait, my sister said. The moment Talon saw Jade he wanted her, ached for her, craved her…and now his desire has become his obsession. If he and Jade are to have a future, he knows he must make peace with the dark shadows and horrors of his past.

Meet Talon. Talon Steel. Helen exceeded every expectation I had for this book. It was heart pounding, heartbreaking, intense, full throttle genius. Helen Hardt has truly blown me away with this series. It is dark, emotional, intense, horrifying, and utterly beautiful all mixed together. To that end, she continues her investigation of the Steels…and unknowingly attracts some dangerous foes from their shrouded history.

Talon loves Jade deeply and longs to possess her forever, so he faces his worst fears and exposes his rawest wounds in an attempt to heal. Yes, she happens to be my ex-fling. But that was seven years ago, and it was barely a week-long thing. Maybe a week of taking her to new heights will get her out of my head. So what if we spend a few nights on the town too? So what if I romance her across Manhattan? Hardt has continued to weave her web in this installment, and the results are every bit as good…or perhaps better…than what we have seen so far. With every answer, there is another question.

That is definitely a proper name for this book. Not only did I melt many times while reading it, I also went up in flames. Jonah Steel is intelligent, rich, and hard-working. As the oldest of his siblings, he was charged by his father to protect them. Melanie Carmichael has her own baggage. As Melanie and Jonah attempt to work through their issues together, desperately trying to ignore the desire brewing between them, ghosts from both their pasts surface…and danger draws near.

Ice Knights defenseman Zach Blackburn has come down with the flu, and my BFF—his PR manager—begs me to put my nursing degree to use and get him back to health. Of course she would call in a favor for the most hated man in Harbor City. Paparazzi spot me and pictures, plus accusations that I slept with him, fly faster than a hockey puck. At first, all of Harbor City wants my blood—or to give me a girlie-girl makeover. But then And now this fickle town wants me with the big jerk twenty-four seven. I never slept with him the first time!

But no one will listen. It was also won the Hugo and Nebula Awards, making it the first translated novel to win a major SF award. Now this epic trilogy concludes with Death's End. Half a century after the Doomsday Battle, the uneasy balance of Dark Forest Deterrence keeps the Trisolaran invaders at bay.

Earth enjoys unprecedented prosperity due to the infusion of Trisolaran knowledge. With human science advancing daily and the Trisolarans adopting Earth culture, it seems that the two civilizations will soon be able to co-exist peacefully as equals without the terrible threat of mutually assured annihilation. But the peace has also made humanity complacent. Cheng Xin, an aerospace engineer from the early twenty-first century, awakens from hibernation in this new age. She brings with her knowledge of a long-forgotten program dating from the beginning of the Trisolar Crisis, and her very presence may upset the delicate balance between two worlds.

Will humanity reach for the stars or die in its cradle? As familiar to many Hogwarts students as Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty are to Muggle children, The Tales of Beedle the Bard is a collection of popular stories written for young wizards and witches. By buying this unique and special book, you are helping Lumos to make sure that, by , no more children live in institutions or orphanages around the world, and that every child is able to enjoy their right to grow up in a family.

All profits from the sale of this eBook will go to Lumos. The Lumos Foundation is a charity registered in England and Wales with registered charity number It was always difficult being Harry Potter and it isn't much easier now that he is an overworked employee of the Ministry of Magic, a husband, and father of three school-age children. While Harry grapples with a past that refuses to stay where it belongs, his youngest son Albus must struggle with the weight of a family legacy he never wanted. As past and present fuse ominously, both father and son learn the uncomfortable truth: sometimes, darkness comes from unexpected places.

The playscript for Harry Potter and the Cursed Child was originally released as a 'special rehearsal edition' alongside the opening of Jack Thorne's play in London's West End in summer Based on an original story by J. Rowling, John Tiffany and Jack Thorne, the play opened to rapturous reviews from theatregoers and critics alike, while the official playscript became an immediate global bestseller. This definitive and final playscript updates the 'special rehearsal edition' with the conclusive and final dialogue from the play, which has subtly changed since its rehearsals, as well as a conversation piece between director John Tiffany and writer Jack Thorne, who share stories and insights about reading playscripts.

This edition also includes useful background information including the Potter family tree and a timeline of events from the Wizarding World prior to the beginning of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. Lecter is a former psychiatrist with a grisly history, unusual tastes, and an intense curiosity about the darker corners of the mind. His intimate understanding of the killer and of Clarice herself form the core of Thomas Harris' The Silence of the Lambs--and ingenious, masterfully written book and an unforgettable classic of suspense fiction.

But Roland and his men were drawn through a magical gate, to a new and strange world of magic and deadly creatures. A world where every man, no matter what his estate or rank, no matter how poor or common or rich and influential, was born with the power of magic. But the magic of this world carries a deadly curse, and the price for abusing its power is ruinous. Electricity ran down her spine. Jess had seen marks like this before a long time ago.

Two other bodies have been found, both bearing the same marks.

Ibn Fadlan and the Land of Darkness: Arab Travellers in the Far North

As Jess and her team try to link the victims, another body is discovered, and they fear the serial killer is taunting them. Do not miss it! I absolutely fell in love with Jess Bishop … I can't wait to get my hands on the next book … Kierney Scott is clearly one of if not the best crime thriller authors of our time. My kind of female character Kierney Scott kept me guessing the whole way through and made me gasp when the pieces all started to fit together. I'll definitely be coming back for book two! Bring on book two and let's see what else life can throw at this FBI agent.

This book has everything what I want in my book. With a love of strong red wine, an attitude to kick ass and a slight sex addiction, I absolutely loved Jess Bishop. Successful people are where they are today because of their habits. Everything that you are today, and everything that you will ever accomplish, is determined by the quality of the habits that you form.

By creating good habits and adopting a positive behavior, you too can become successful and live a prosperous life. Drawing on hundreds of studies, McGonigal shows that getting superbetter is as simple as tapping into the three core psychological strengths that games help you build:. SuperBetter contains nearly playful challenges anyone can undertake in order to build these gameful strengths.

It includes stories and data from people who have used the SuperBetter method to get stronger in the face of illness, injury, and other major setbacks, as well as to achieve goals like losing weight, running a marathon, and finding a new job. As inspiring as it is down to earth, and grounded in rigorous research, SuperBetter is a proven game plan for a better life. My qualification is not that I am better than you but I am worse. With a rare mix of honesty, humor, and compassion, comedian and movie star Russell Brand mines his own wild story and shares the advice and wisdom he has gained through his fourteen years of recovery.

Brand speaks to those suffering along the full spectrum of addiction—from drugs, alcohol, caffeine, and sugar addictions to addictions to work, stress, bad relationships, digital media, and fame. Brand understands that addiction can take many shapes and sizes and how the process of staying clean, sane, and unhooked is a daily activity. Here he provides not only a recovery plan, but an attempt to make sense of the ailing world.


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Rachel Hollis has seen it too often: women not living into their full potential. In Girl, Stop Apologizing, 1 New York Times bestselling author and founder of a multimillion-dollar media company, Rachel Hollis sounds a wake-up call. She knows that many women have been taught to define themselves in light of other people—whether as wife, mother, daughter, or employee—instead of learning how to own who they are and what they want.

With a challenge to women everywhere to stop talking themselves out of their dreams, Hollis identifies the excuses to let go of, the behaviors to adopt, and the skills to acquire on the path to growth, confidence, and believing in yourself. He has no idea what Charlotte has planned for him, who she has found. Twisty and compelling, guaranteed to make the reader question who is telling the truth.

I devoured it in one sitting. I couldn't put it down… It was such a shocking twist at the end. All the revelations that came to light at the end were fantastic. This book had everything. Great characters, content and a shocking ending. What more do you want from a book? I absolutely loved it. Detective Mike McCabe moved from a top homicide job with the NYPD to Portland, Maine to leave his failed marriage and suspicions of wrongdoing behind, and to find a more peaceful life for himself and his 13 year old daughter.

On a warm September night, a missing high-school athlete is found dead in a scrap metal yard, her heart removed from her body with surgical precision. As outrage over the killing spreads, a young business woman disappears while out on a morning jog. McCabe is certain both crimes are the work of one man—a murderer skilled in cardiac surgery who is using his scalpel to target young women. With the clock ticking, McCabe and his partner Maggie Savage find themselves in a desperate race against time to find and rescue the missing woman before she becomes the next victim of the sadistic killer's blade.

What we can talk about is Binti has returned to her home planet, believing that the violence of the Meduse has been left behind. Unfortunately, although her people are peaceful on the whole, the same cannot be said for the Khoush, who fan the flames of their ancient rivalry with the Meduse. Far from her village when the conflicts start, Binti hurries home, but anger and resentment has already claimed the lives of many close to her. Once again it is up to Binti, and her intriguing new friend Mwinyi, to intervene--though the elders of her people do not entirely trust her motives--and try to prevent a war that could wipe out her people, once and for all.

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  7. Free sneak peeks. See more. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Book 1. Where are these pens? Why are we born? Why do we die? For all the answers, stick your thumb to the stars! Characters frolic through the galaxy with infectious joy. The Stand. Stephen King. Those who remain are scared, bewildered, and in need of a leader.

    As the dark man and the peaceful woman gather power, the survivors will have to choose between them—and ultimately decide the fate of all humanity. Book Jack Reacher hits the pavement and sticks out his thumb. He plans to follow the sun on an epic trip across America, from Maine to California. On a country road deep in the New England woods, he sees a sign to a place he has never been: the town where his father was born. He takes the detour. At the same moment, in the same isolated area, a car breaks down.

    Two young Canadians had been on their way to New York City to sell a treasure. The owners seem almost too friendly. Then Reacher makes a shocking discovery: The present can be tough, but the past can be tense. You need Jack Reacher. Child neatly interweaves multiple narratives, ratchets up the suspense the reveal of the motel plot is delicious , and delivers a powerful, satisfying denouement. Backlash: A Thriller. In ancient texts, there are stories about men who struck from the shadows, seemingly beyond the reach of death itself.

    These men were considered part angel, part demon. Their loyalty was to their families, their friends, and their kings. You crossed these men at your peril. And once crossed, there was no crossing back. They were fearless; men of honor who have been known throughout history by different names: Spartan, Viking, Samurai. Today, men like these still strike from the shadows. They are highly prized intelligence agents, military operatives, and assassins.


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    One man is all three. Two days ago, that man was crossed—badly. Now, far from home and surrounded by his enemy, Scot Harvath must battle his way out. With no support, no cavalry coming, and no one even aware of where he is, it will take everything he has ever learned to survive.

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    Harvath wants revenge. In the most explosive novel Brad Thor has ever written, page after captivating page of action, intrigue, loyalty, and betrayal will keep you hooked until the very last sentence. Bobby Hall. The supermarket was supposed to change all that. An ordinary job and a steady check. Because something there seems to be looking for him. A darkly funny psychological thriller, Supermarket is a gripping exploration into madness and creativity. Who knew you could find sex, drugs, and murder all in aisle nine?

    Tom Clancy Enemy Contact. Book 5. Jack Ryan, Jr. The CIA's deepest secrets are being given away for a larger agenda that will undermine the entire Western intelligence community. The clues are thin, and the sketchy trail dead ends in a harrowing fight from which he barely escapes with his life. If that's not bad enough, Jack gets more tragic news. An old friend, who's dying from cancer, has one final request for Jack. It seems simple enough, but before it's done, Jack will find himself alone, his life hanging by a thread. If he survives, he'll be one step closer to finding the shadowy figure behind the CIA leak and its true purpose, but in the process, he'll challenge the world's most dangerous criminal syndicate with devastating consequences.

    The Silent Patient. Alex Michaelides. Tiamat's Wrath. Book 8. The eighth book in the NYT bestselling Expanse series, Tiamat's Wrath finds the crew of the Rocinante fighting an underground war against a nearly invulnerable authoritarian empire, with James Holden a prisoner of the enemy. Now a Prime Original series. Thirteen hundred gates have opened to solar systems around the galaxy. But as humanity builds its interstellar empire in the alien ruins, the mysteries and threats grow deeper. In the dead systems where gates lead to stranger things than alien planets, Elvi Okoye begins a desperate search to discover the nature of a genocide that happened before the first human beings existed, and to find weapons to fight a war against forces at the edge of the imaginable.

    But the price of that knowledge may be higher than she can pay. At the heart of the empire, Teresa Duarte prepares to take on the burden of her father's godlike ambition. And throughout the wide human empire, the scattered crew of the Rocinante fights a brave rear-guard action against Duarte's authoritarian regime. Memory of the old order falls away, and a future under Laconia's eternal rule -- and with it, a battle that humanity can only lose -- seems more and more certain.

    Because against the terrors that lie between worlds, courage and ambition will not be enough The Handmaid's Tale. Margaret Atwood. Set in the near future, it describes life in what was once the United States and is now called the Republic of Gilead, a monotheocracy that has reacted to social unrest and a sharply declining birthrate by reverting to, and going beyond, the repressive intolerance of the original Puritans.

    The regime takes the Book of Genesis absolutely at its word, with bizarre consequences for the women and men in its population. The story is told through the eyes of Offred, one of the unfortunate Handmaids under the new social order. It is at once scathing satire, dire warning, and a tour de force.

    It is Margaret Atwood at her best. The Name of the Wind. I have stolen princesses back from sleeping barrow kings. I burned down the town of Trebon. I have spent the night with Felurian and left with both my sanity and my life. I was expelled from the University at a younger age than most people are allowed in. I tread paths by moonlight that others fear to speak of during day. I have talked to Gods, loved women, and written songs that make the minstrels weep.

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    You may have heard of me. So begins a tale unequaled in fantasy literature—the story of a hero told in his own voice. There is a beauty to Pat's writing that defies description. Find your new favorite book. Book 9. Unchained from fate, the Norse gods Loki and Hel are ready to unleash Ragnarok, a. Granuaile MacTiernan must join immortals Sun Wukong and Erlang Shen in a fight against the Yama Kings in Taiwan, but she discovers that the stakes are much higher than she thought. Meanwhile, Archdruid Owen Kennedy must put out both literal and metaphorical fires from Bavaria to Peru to keep the world safe for his apprentices and the future of Druidry.

    There is a hound named Oberon who deserves a snack, after all. But amidst the battles and bargaining that goes into saving the world, there is also an enormous amount of heart. Book 4. But he feels a boy as he falls toward the war-torn planet, his armor red, his army vast, his heart heavy. It is the tenth year of war and the thirty-third of his life. A decade ago Darrow was the hero of the revolution he believed would break the chains of the Society. But the Rising has shattered everything: Instead of peace and freedom, it has brought endless war.

    Now he must risk all he has fought for on one last desperate mission. Darrow still believes he can save everyone, but can he save himself? An ex-soldier broken by grief is forced to steal the most valuable thing in the galaxy—or pay with his life. And Lysander au Lune, the heir in exile to the Sovereign, wanders the stars with his mentor, Cassius, haunted by the loss of the world that Darrow transformed, and dreaming of what will rise from its ashes.

    Red Rising was the story of the end of one universe. Iron Gold is the story of the creation of a new one. Witness the beginning of a stunning new saga of tragedy and triumph from masterly New York Times bestselling author Pierce Brown. Spymaster: A Thriller. Across Europe, a secret organization has begun attacking diplomats. Back in the United States, a foreign ally demands the identity of a highly placed covert asset. Between the two, all the ingredients are there for an all-out war.

    With his mentor out of the game, counterterrorism operative Scot Harvath must take on the role he has spent his career avoiding. But, as with everything else he does, he intends to rewrite the rules—all of them. In Spymaster, Scot Harvath is more cunning, more dangerous, and deadlier than ever before.

    Ready Player One. Ernest Cline. In the year , reality is an ugly place. Wade's devoted his life to studying the puzzles hidden within this world's digital confines—puzzles that are based on their creator's obsession with the pop culture of decades past and that promise massive power and fortune to whoever can unlock them. Jen Sincero. In this refreshingly entertaining how-to guide, bestselling author and world-traveling success coach, Jen Sincero, serves up 27 bitesized chapters full of hilariously inspiring stories, sage advice, easy exercises, and the occasional swear word, helping you to: Identify and change the self-sabotaging beliefs and behaviors that stop you from getting what you want, Create a life you totally love.

    And create it NOW, Make some damn money already. The kind you've never made before. Brandon Sanderson. There his family dwells in peace and comfort: his proud wife, Catelyn; his sons Robb, Brandon, and Rickon; his daughters Sansa and Arya; and his bastard son, Jon Snow. Far to the north, behind the towering Wall, lie savage Wildings and worse—unnatural things relegated to myth during the centuries-long summer, but proving all too real and all too deadly in the turning of the season.

    Yet a more immediate threat lurks to the south, where Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King, has died under mysterious circumstances. All are heading for Winterfell and a fateful encounter that will change the course of kingdoms. Meanwhile, across the Narrow Sea, Prince Viserys, heir of the fallen House Targaryen, which once ruled all of Westeros, schemes to reclaim the throne with an army of barbarian Dothraki—whose loyalty he will purchase in the only coin left to him: his beautiful yet innocent sister, Daenerys.

    City of Endless Night. Douglas Preston.

    The Heir of Night (The Wall of Night, #1) by Helen Lowe

    When Grace Ozmian, the beautiful and reckless daughter of a wealthy tech billionaire, first goes missing, the NYPD assumes she has simply sped off on another wild adventure. Until the young woman's body is discovered in an abandoned warehouse in Queens, the head nowhere to be found. Pendergast shows up at the crime scene assigned to the case. Just like when we first met, back at the Museum of Natural History. A diabolical presence is haunting the greater metropolitan area, and Grace Ozmian was only the first of many victims to be murdered.

    Worse still, there's something unique to the city itself that has attracted the evil eye of the killer. As mass hysteria sets in, Pendergast and D'Agosta find themselves in the crosshairs of an opponent who has threatened the very lifeblood of the city. It'll take all of Pendergast's skill to unmask this most dangerous foe-let alone survive to tell the tale. The Fallen. Star FBI detective Amos Decker and his colleague Alex Jamison must solve four increasingly bizarre murders in a dying rust belt town--and the closer they come to the truth, the deadlier it gets in this rapid-fire 1 New York Times bestseller.

    Something sinister is going on in Baronville. The rust belt town has seen four bizarre murders in the space of two weeks. Cryptic clues left at the scenes--obscure bible verses, odd symbols--have the police stumped. It's a bleak place: a former mill and mining town with a crumbling economy and rampant opioid addiction. Decker has only been there a few hours when he stumbles on a horrific double murder scene.