This is the tenth and what may be the last in the Myron Bolitar series It is also, in my opinion, the best in the series. While I value his stand alone novels more than his series work, this volume comes closest to matching the stand alones.The book opens with the statement, "The ugliest truth,...
I first discovered Harlan Coben about 18 months ago. I read one of books, "Caught,", I believe, and loved it. I read a second book, loved it. Mr. Coben jumped into my Top 5 favorite authors. Another novel by Coben cemented his spot. I read a fourth, a fifth, and then it dawned on me. The reason I...
Myron Bolitar (and Coben's readers) finally get a little more insight into the mysterious past of Myron's good friend and business partner Win in this novel. Myron is invited to the US Open of golf with the possibility of picking up a few more clients for his sports management business. It is l...
No Second Chance was everything that I expected it to be. It was fast paced, page turning action that constantly left me wondering what could possibly happen next. This is my third book by Coben and although it wasn't my favorite (that still remains as my first read Tell No One by Coben) it was...
Possibly one of the worst books I've read in the past 50 years. Mostly my fault because (A) I didn't read the author's disclaimer at the front of the book, (B) I didn't look at the original copyright date until I was more than half way through, and (C) by the time I realized my mistake, I wanted...
Sabe quando você tem uma lista de livros para ler, começa todos e, um a um, nas primeiras páginas vai dizendo “esse agora não”? Pois bem, era assim que eu estava, nada “descia”. Então, pensei, nunca li nada do Harlan Coben, tenho um livro dele guardado há um bom tempo, por que não? Livros de mist...
GONE FOR GOOD is a fast paced thriller with at least 60 plot twists, turns or startling revelations (I catalogued them.) Typical of the genre, it is plot rather than character driven. Even the best characters are a bit shallow, and you will have to accept some improbable ones. Dialogue is written...
The stench of testosterone emanating from the pages of this book made me want to open a window to get some fresh air while I was reading it. Or maybe go outside and take a walk in the sunshine instead of reading it.This is the second in Harlan Coben's sports agent/detective Myron Bolitar series. ...
Myron Bolitar, ehemaliger Basketball-Profi und nun Inhaber einer Berateragentur für Sportler und Schauspieler, hat seit geraumer Zeit eine neue Freundin, die Journalistin Ali Wilder. Bei einem seiner Besuche bekommt er spätabends zufällig ein Gespräch zwischen deren Tochter und einer Schulfreundi...
'The Final Detail' will keep you awake at nights and wake you up early in the mornings. It will make you push out people from your house so you can be alone and just immerse yourself deep into the book without any interruptions. Experience says so.The story goes as such: Myron has run away with T...
I’ve been aware of Harlan Coben’s series of crime/mystery novels starring a sports agent named Myron Bolitar for some time but never read one because I thought it’d be something like Jerry Maguire crossed with Murder She Wrote. I figured Myron would always be tripping over dead baseball players k...
Myron Bolitar est recruté pour veiller sur l'étoile montante du basketball féminin, la ravissante Brenda Slaughter. « Du miel tiède sur des pancakes du dimanche. » Excusez du peu ! L'entourage de la sportive soupçonne son père de vouloir ruiner sa carrière, or ce dernier est porté disparu. Myron ...
When I arrived, the lock was broken. An arm was sticking out. So I opened the door some more. And that’s when I called nine-one-one.” The police asked what kind of “tip.” She said it was anonymous. They asked what her interest was in this. She went for the truth here becau...
Myron didn’t know if that came from a media decision to respect the family’s request for privacy or from news cycles being so short or from the fact that there was no new kindling for the coverage fire. Probably a combination of all three, but either way, Myron was grateful. It was eight P.M. whe...
Jill looked at her friend. The little mustache on her face, the one that had caused all the trouble, was gone, but for some reason Jill could still see it. Yasmin’s mother had visited from wherever she lived now-somewhere down south, Florida maybe-and had taken her to some fancy doctor’s office a...
He parked in front of the two-car garage below the bedroom window and started up the concrete steps. A tricycle was on its side, blocking the path to the door. This oh-so-ordinary dwelling was where ACPD Detective Erin Anderson, the only woman Broome would ever love, lived with her husband, a CPA...
He knew that he wasn’t going to play, but his chest was still wrapped in the steel bands of pregame jitters. In his younger days Myron had enjoyed the pressure of big-time competition, even when the jitters reached a level of near paralysis. They never lasted long after the opening tip. Once he h...
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She had on a white blouse and a gray pencil skirt. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She’d put her coat on the stool next to her, saving it for him. As Adam moved closer, she moved the coat without looking up from the paper. Adam slid onto the stool. “Been a long tim...
Myron liked the old Julie Andrews musical well enough—who didn’t?—but he always found one song particularly dumb. One of the classics actually. “My Favorite Things.” The song made no sense. Ask a zillion people to list their absolute favorite things, and how man...
Ema: can you get out?Me: Yes. What’s up?Ema: something I saw in the woods at Bat Lady’s. I think we should take a closer look. Now? I thought, but then again, when would it be a better time? We needed the cover of dark, I guess, because I wasn’t sure we could approach the yard during the day with...
She pulled up to the home of Marsha Hunter at 38 Darby Terrace in Livingston, New Jersey. Livingston had been Loren's hometown. Growing up, she'd decided, was never easy. Adolescence is a war zone, no matter where you live. Comfortable towns like Livingston are supposed to cushion the blows. For ...
She was still in New York City. There was a law against using a cell phone while driving unless it was hands-free, though that had nothing to do with her hesitation. With one hand on the steering wheel, she felt around on the floor of the car. She located the ear attachment, managed to untangle t...
I headed outside to shoot some baskets. The same two flyers were posted everywhere. The first—the one most of the students were getting all excited about—had a surprisingly sexy photograph of Angelica Wyatt on it: AUDITIONS FOR EXTRAS TWO DAYS ONLY! MAYBE YOU’LL MEET ANG...
She wore a green snug pullover that clung exactly as it should. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail. She tucked a strand behind her ear. She wore glasses tonight, and I liked the way they looked. As soon as she got into the car, Lucy checked out the CDs. "Counting Crows," she said. "August and E...
Davis Taylor 221 North End Ave Waterbury, Connecticut The social security and phone numbers were there too. Myron took out his cell phone and dialed. After two rings, a machine picked up and a robotic voice, the default greeting, asked him to leave a message at the tone. He left his name and mobi...
It was addressed to Rachel, Ema, and me. Got something. Stop by tonight? We all texted back that we would. I got to the locker room early, changed, and found my way to the basket in the corner. I was the first one there and I...
How did I know? Intuition maybe. My lizard brain could sense it. I could feel it in almost a physical way. That, plus the same car—a gray Chevy van with a Vermont license plate—had been behind me since I left the town of Kraftboro. I couldn’t swear to it, but I thought tha...
Sally Perryman had been a junior partner in the firm assigned to be Adam’s first chair for a time-consuming case involving the immigrant owners of a Greek diner. The owners had been happily and profitably working in the same location in Harrison for forty years, until a big hedge fund had built a...
“Do you remember Elizabeth Bradford?” he asked. There was a brief hesitation. “Yes.” “Did Anita find her body?” A longer hesitation. “Yes.” “What did she tell you about it?” “Wait a second. I thought you were trying to h...
Sand in the throat. Eyes won’t open. Or maybe they do. Total darkness. Engine roar. I sense someone standing over me. “Terese . . .” I think I say it out loud, but I’m not sure. NEXT snippet of memory: voices. They seem very far away. I don’t understand any of the words. Sounds, that’s all. So...
