Books By Elizabeth Strout 소설 & 이야기

Watch out for “Striking Blow.” (Strike Zone Book #2) This is Pearl and Antonio’s story. Filled with international intrigue and subterfuge. Striking Blow Colombo. Sri Lanka. Pearl needed directions—a map—a freaking GPS back to herself. Finding her worth again meant starting with a physical transformation. For starters, the blonde princess staring back at her in the mirror wasn’t real, and it was time to pack “socialite barbie” away in a dark drawer; time to step away from the two-hundred-dollar haircut and her designer lifestyle.

Viviane asked as she wiped at the excess water in the white porcelain sink with a dishcloth. Carefully placing the dinner plate on top of the others in the cupboard, Eliza thought about her answer. Should she admit that she met a stranger for coffee? Well, he wasn’t a complete stranger since she’d danced quite a bit with him the night before. The only problem was that this was something that she could barely remember. Since it wasn’t her habit of sharing girl talk with her mother, she decided against starting and simply said, “I went to see Reba.”

The draw of books was too great, and despite knowing their time was limited, they continued to walk through, gazing lovingly at the bound tomes. "Amanda! It's a first edition!" Ellie had pulled a book from the shelf and was showing it to Amanda. It was a first edition Wuthering Heights manuscript. Amanda gasped as she walked up to Ellie and stared lovingly at the leather-bound pages. Ellie was practically drooling when Jake came up next to her. "Find something you like?" he asked cheerfully. "Shhhh!" Ellie hushed him. "Is there a reason we're whispering?" Jake said quietly as he looked at the book in Ellie's hands.

Sitting there, listening to her talk about ordinary things, I understood something quietly devastating. I was saying goodbye to this kitchen. She stood and walked to the shelves behind the counter. Dozens of books sat in neat rows. She kept them arranged by subject, labels titles forward like a display in a shop window. One book had shifted slightly out of line. She nudged it back into place. “You know,” she said casually, her back still turned, “it’s a shame about Estelle’s family.” I didn’t speak. “I mean—they tried, I’m sure,” she continued. “Her mother seemed like a very…sweet woman.”

She paused for a moment, then suddenly remembered something. “There’s one in our marriage book, Madam. There’s a photo of me and my husband there.” “May I see your marriage book?” Nathan asked. “Yes, please wait a moment. I’ll get it.” Elizabeth quickly left the study and pressed the elevator button to the second floor. Aunt Eli had taught her how to use the elevator, so she was already familiar with it. Not long after, Elizabeth returned with a green marriage book clutched tightly in her hands, as if it were the only proof that her marriage had ever existed.

No one has found the bodies yet, though, so theres still a lingering hope out there that they're alive. I sigh as I crawl under the thick quilt, flicking on the lamo beside me as I pull out my latest find at Barnes and Nobels: The Winter Garden by the famous Kristin Hannah. This woman's books are truly amazing. Then, after an hour long reading session, I find my eyes beginning to shut against my will, so I set down the book on the bedside table and shut off the lamp. ~ The next morning...