Rabu, 31 Oktober 2012

The Spectacle of Skill: New and Selected Writings of Robert Hughes, by Robert Hughes

The Spectacle of Skill: New and Selected Writings of Robert Hughes, by Robert Hughes

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The Spectacle of Skill: New and Selected Writings of Robert Hughes, by Robert Hughes

The Spectacle of Skill: New and Selected Writings of Robert Hughes, by Robert Hughes



The Spectacle of Skill: New and Selected Writings of Robert Hughes, by Robert Hughes

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“I am completely an elitist, in the cultural but emphatically not the social sense. I prefer the good to the bad, the articulate to the mumbling, the aesthetically developed to the merely primitive, and full to partial consciousness. I love the spectacle of skill, whether it’s an expert gardener at work, or a good carpenter chopping dovetails . . . I don’t think stupid or ill-read people are as good to be with as wise and fully literate ones. I would rather watch a great tennis player than a mediocre one . . . Consequently, most of the human race doesn’t matter much to me, outside the normal and necessary frame of courtesy and the obligation to respect human rights. I see no reason to squirm around apologizing for this. I am, after all, a cultural critic, and my main job is to distinguish the good from the second-rate.” Robert Hughes wrote with brutal honesty about art, architecture, culture, religion, and himself. He translated his passions—of which there were many, both positive and negative—brilliantly, convincingly, and with vitality and immediacy, always holding himself to the same rigorous standards of skill, authenticity, and significance that he did his subjects. There never was, and never will be again, a voice like this. In this volume, that voice rings clear through a gathering of some of his most unforgettable writings, culled from nine of his most widely read and important books. This selection shows his enormous range and gives us a uniquely cohesive view of both the critic and the man. Most revealing, and most thrilling for Hughes’s legions of fans, are the never-before-published pages from his unfinished second volume of memoirs. These last writings show Robert Hughes at the height of his powers and can be read only with pleasure and a tinge of sadness that his extraordinary voice is no longer here to educate us as well as to clarify and define our world.

The Spectacle of Skill: New and Selected Writings of Robert Hughes, by Robert Hughes

  • Amazon Sales Rank: #161316 in Books
  • Published on: 2015-11-17
  • Released on: 2015-11-17
  • Format: Deckle Edge
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 9.50" h x 1.80" w x 6.40" l, 1.49 pounds
  • Binding: Hardcover
  • 688 pages
The Spectacle of Skill: New and Selected Writings of Robert Hughes, by Robert Hughes

About the Author ROBERT HUGHES was born in Australia in 1938. In 1970, he moved to the United States to become chief art critic for Time, a position he held until 2001. His books include The Shock of the New, The Fatal Shore, Nothing if Not Critical, The Culture of Complaint, Barcelona, American Visions, A Jerk on One End, Goya, Things I Didn’t Know, and Rome.  He is a New York Public Library Literary Lion and was the recipient of a number of literary awards and prizes, including two Frank Jewell-Mather Awards. He is widely held as the most respected art critic of our time.


The Spectacle of Skill: New and Selected Writings of Robert Hughes, by Robert Hughes

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Most helpful customer reviews

24 of 25 people found the following review helpful. Infinitely more than an Art Critic By Laurence R. Bachmann Describing Robert Hughes as merely an art critic (even if you think him a great one) seems a diminishment. Love or loath his opinions but give the man his due: his prose are beautiful and buoyed by wit and erudition. For that alone one should read (and reread) The Spectacle of Skill. It's a compilation of essays and excerpt chapters that are absolutely breathtaking in their content and style. History, travel, politics, culture (and the business of culture), ethics, fishing, High Trash as well as familial loss and failure are some of the topics Hughes turns his attention to. And oh, yes, artists and the art world.Two sentences in the spectacle of skill tell you all one need's to know about the man: "I am completely an elitist, in the cultural but emphatically not the social sense. I prefer the good to the bad, the articulate to the mumbling, the aesthetically developed to the merely primitive, and full to partial consciousness. I love the spectacle of skill, whether it's an expert gardener at work or a good carpenter chopping dovetails...I don't think stupid or ill-read people are as good to be with as wise and fully literate ones." I find I disagree as often as not with Hughes. I continually return to read his critical opinions because they are informed, knowledgeable and have a moral as well as an aesthetic or political slant. He can also be hilariously funny and scathingly dismissive--Julian Schnabel, collectibles, Interview magazine, and television are favorite targets.As a critic, Hughes is fiercely passionate and honest. Two virtues anyone can admire, but few acquire. His love of Miro and Picasso is steeped in their foundational skills: as modern artists they dismissed classic forms once they learned them. They actually took the trouble to unlearn them. His contempt for Schnabel and late-Warhol is based on the former's inability to even draw and the latter's apparent determination to elevate the banal to an aesthetic level. Happily for us, he despised cant (artists comparing their works to Kristallnacht beware). Reading the turgid excerpts from gallery shows he's visited is a highlight, as are his quotes from the culture rags of the 80s. Hughes was renowned for his campaigns against bombast and corruption: two afflictions that were and apparently still are epidemic in the art world. His campaign against the casual bribes of his profession was courageous and solitary.His homage to Barcelona and to Antoni Gaudi are a smorgasbord to be savored, gorging readers on courses of history, Spanish politics and chauvinism, urban blight, Catalan cuisine, Joan Miro, surrealism, modernism and the religiosity of Catalunya's premiere architect. It is a breathtaking whirlwind, all the more impressive because I never particularly cared for Gaudi's overwrought, lachrymose style. I don't like it much better now but do appreciate the effort and thinking that went into it. Particularly its artisanal, organic and oriental underpinnings. We are in full accord about the appalling continuum that has become the Sacre Familia and I will not try to top a master at his dismissive best:[it] is the most blatant mass of half-digested modernist cliches to be plunked on a notable building within living memory. It is sincere in the way that only the worst art can be...Art historians of the future will point to it, no doubt, as the precise moment when the public religious art of Catholic Europe died.In all collections, some works are less impressive. Personally, I never need to read another essay or article insisting upon the joys of fishing. Halfway through Hughes' paean to hooks, lines and sinkers I found my eyes glazing over, my mind wandering. His essay Long Island, would also, I thought, be less than riveting but it proved to be a delight. The writing is lyrical the observations fresh, proving again that the commonplace need not be banal. And of course, there are those artists! Wonderful appreciations of Rothko and Hopper, Pollock and Eakins and two particularly fine chapters on Goya that should be required reading for every lover of art and creativity. They are essays infused with wonder and passion for a true artistic genius.To his credit, Hughes was as fiercely critical of himself as others. His dissipated youth is reviewed in detail and his tragic failure as a parent is unflinchingly revealed. If there is tragedy and travesty in The Spectacle of Skill there is also a tremendous appreciation of greatness and accomplishment. These essays are never just about artists or paintings, cities visited or glitzy trends. Art and Art History are the springboards Hughes uses to dive deep into timeless cultural, social and political topics. It would be a shame if you didn't take the plunge with him.

20 of 22 people found the following review helpful. Chunks of other books instead of uncollected essays By GiovanniGF I love Robert Hughes, but I was very disappointed to find out that this tome is largely composed of selections from his published books instead of being a new collection of uncollected essays. There were literally hundreds upon hundreds of essays from his many years of writing weekly reviews for Time Magazine to choose from, and instead we're given chunks of books that many of us have already read. Thankfully there's a little bit of previously unpublished material, but not enough to justify buying this.

12 of 15 people found the following review helpful. He described the dirty secrets of the New York art world and the ... By fragilefinger Robert Hughes always saw when the emperor was not wearing any clothes. He described the dirty secrets of the New York art world and the pay to play business between critics, galleries and artists.. He had no patience with "artspeak." The writing is superb,as always.Tghis book os a good follow-up to his Nothing if Not Critical. How sad that we won't have any more of his brilliant insights.

See all 13 customer reviews... The Spectacle of Skill: New and Selected Writings of Robert Hughes, by Robert Hughes


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The Spectacle of Skill: New and Selected Writings of Robert Hughes, by Robert Hughes

The Spectacle of Skill: New and Selected Writings of Robert Hughes, by Robert Hughes

The Spectacle of Skill: New and Selected Writings of Robert Hughes, by Robert Hughes
The Spectacle of Skill: New and Selected Writings of Robert Hughes, by Robert Hughes

Selasa, 23 Oktober 2012

Out of the Blues, by Mercy Celeste

Out of the Blues, by Mercy Celeste

Out Of The Blues, By Mercy Celeste. Let's review! We will certainly typically discover out this sentence all over. When still being a children, mama used to purchase us to constantly check out, so did the teacher. Some e-books Out Of The Blues, By Mercy Celeste are fully read in a week and we need the obligation to assist reading Out Of The Blues, By Mercy Celeste Just what about now? Do you still enjoy reading? Is reviewing simply for you which have responsibility? Never! We here offer you a brand-new book qualified Out Of The Blues, By Mercy Celeste to review.

Out of the Blues, by Mercy Celeste

Out of the Blues, by Mercy Celeste



Out of the Blues, by Mercy Celeste

Download PDF Ebook Online Out of the Blues, by Mercy Celeste

Whoever said you can't go home again should change that to should not go home again. As in EVER! Mason Foxworth swore on his grandmother's bible never to return to the small Georgia town he sort of grew up in. And for eight years he'd succeeded in keeping that promise. Until his twin sister decided she needed to get married...back home...and she'd invited their parents. Wasn't this going to be a just a fabulous weekend? Since leaving the Marines, Kilby Adams rarely ever left his farm and now here he was in Georgia, as best man at his stepbrother's wedding. Out of his comfort zone and with too many people that he doesn't know Kilby has nothing to keep his mind off the past except the gorgeous brother of the bride. And wouldn't you just know it, there was only one room left at the Inn and Kilby would have to share it, with Mason, who was straight and....yeah, this was going to be one hell of a weekend.

Out of the Blues, by Mercy Celeste

  • Amazon Sales Rank: #28079 in eBooks
  • Published on: 2015-11-09
  • Released on: 2015-11-09
  • Format: Kindle eBook
Out of the Blues, by Mercy Celeste

About the Author Born and raised in the wilds of north west Florida, I currently make my home in Mobile, Alabama, where I attended the University of South Alabama. My interests are as diverse as the topics about which I write. I love to quilt, cook, and troll resale stores for bargains. Being a good southern girl, I love football and fried food. I write southern themed spicy romance of the het and gay variety. Because love doesn t care who you are.


Out of the Blues, by Mercy Celeste

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Most helpful customer reviews

63 of 66 people found the following review helpful. Very frustrating; unbelievable plot and twists; too many errors By JS This book was extremely frustrating for me. It's probably a 2.5 star for me, but I'm rounding up and all. Partly because it's my fault. I knew better. I was hoping the author had grown out of her old bad habits based on the preview, but alas, this book is riddled with them. And I ended up banging my head on my kindle in frustration far more than one should do!So, the story premise is that Kilby, a retired Marine, and Mason, a rich lost man-child, must share a room at Mason's twin sister's wedding in the deep South of Georgia. A place that has a lot of bad memories for Mason. So right off the bat, Mason gets turned on, gets naked, and gets it on with Kilby the first time Kilby walks into their shared room...even though Mason's straight. And doesn't know this guy at all. And is stone cold sober. Then various dramatics happen at the wedding, mostly angst for Mason -- whom everyone thinks is gay but he swears isn't -- but he's falling for his gay roommate. Add in some bizarre plot twists of possible incest, crazy love triangles, suicide, child molestation, rape, disregarded homophobia, and negligent parents, and you've got this wacky story in a nutshell......and this is why I'm done with this author. I knew better. I knew after her book where the main character had no idea that he'd slept with the guy before even though that guy had *one-of-a-kind full body tattoos* that logic, consistency, and believability were out the window. And yet the author does have great moments and some hot sex scenes. Oh, I wish she'd get an editor! And reel in the crazy.Here are some examples:- Character notes his dad left the bar. In the next paragraph, he's back at the bar. Then he's heading out. But er, wait, no, what the author really meant was he's hitting on someone at the bar. Decide what the dad is doing and stick with it! (And I bang my head against kindle.) Or another scene, he's asleep. Then he's smiling. But he's still asleep. Except he's laughing and talking and kissing. But he's still asleep. Huh? HUH? This happens often. No tracking of characters or their actions and motivations.- I still haven't the foggiest idea if the main character is gay, others think he's gay but he's straight, he's bi, he's gay for his love. And does it have to be defined? I guess not, but I don't want it changing every other chapter!- Missing lines of dialogue. There's an entire scene based on a joke that never gets told. You can tell what it's supposed to be from the surrounding dialogue, but it seems like it was accidentally deleted and no one caught it. Hence, again, editor.- Long, confusing descriptions of geography especially in sex scenes.- Is it the rehearsal dinner or the wedding? Wait, which is it? Where are we? What day is it?- But mostly, the plot twists. It's like in the writing, the author would think, hmm, I need to up the crazy here and add in another detail that often didn't follow with everything that had been set-up before it! I mean, one story does not need to include semi-incest, rape, child molestation, surprise lovers, etc. etc. etc. And when all the dirty, horrid secrets come out, there's no retribution. No backlash. Everyone's just still hanging out together. If you start poking at this plot, you'll end up with swiss cheese. Ok, that's not really a saying, but you get my gist.Maybe if you can put your blinders on to all that, and you love crazy Southern gothic twists, then go for it. I mean, she is an entertaining author, and I do adore that she goes for some unique scenes and characters, but the flaws in this one just hurt my brain too much. I ended up frustrated and angry half the time.

12 of 12 people found the following review helpful. Highly Recommended Mary Celeste at her BEST! By Gigi This is the story of Mason and Kilby, both men equally screwed-up because of past pain, heartbreak and humiliation. They meet at the wedding of Mason's twin sister to Kilby's stepbrother. Both are estranged from their families. So estranged that the family didn't expect them to show up and the men have to share a hotel room since there weren't reservations for them.To explain the angst in these men's lives, here's the tip of the iceberg:Mason and his sister were shipped from stepfather to stepfather as his mom fell in and out of love. Mason was happiest with musician stepfather Cody and felt he was the closest thing to a father he's ever had. Cody commits suicide and Mason is the one to find his body. As for his sexual orientation, he is "straight" and never been with a man before, even with the strong sexual attraction he feels towards men.Kilby is an ex-Marine currently working his grandfather's farm. He was in love with Jon, a fellow soldier, and while not "out and proud" to the world, he made no secret to his family and friends that he was gay. Jon kills himself over his shame of being gay and Kilby finds his body and a suicide note addressed to him.Pretty messed up, huh? And that is just the iceberg tip!At 27% I got super, duper excited to read that both men were into rough sex, a particular favorite of mine.-------------------------I lay on the sofa under him. Legs sprawled on the floor, arms on the back of the seat where he'd put them. I felt my d*** throb in my jeans. I let him see me like this. I wanted him to know I wouldn't hurt him, and I wanted him to hurt me.-------------------------But I quickly realized that it wasn't the fun kind of rough sex. It was the punishing kind, where both men were ashamed of themselves for various reasons and felt they deserved to be hurt and humiliated.------------------------“I want to hold you down,” he said, there was uncertainty in his eyes. “I want to…take you hard.” I trembled. F*** me. He didn't seem the type. “Hurt me. F*** me hard. Make me feel you.” I gave him my permission. God, it had been so long since I'd let another man use me. Mason needed to use me, I needed to be used. I was twisted."----------------------------------------------“Yes, f***, yes.” I dug my hands into the sofa cushions and under him so that I could squeeze his ass. He f***ed me back. We had a rhythm that made me sweat, bodies slapping together and I f***ed him hard. I wanted to see the pain in his eyes, I wanted to see what I did to him. I wanted to f*** him until I broke him."----------------------While there was a big, heaping dose of angst in this book, I didn't feel it overwhelmed my emotions and pulled me into the sad, depressed mood extreme book angst can do to me. These men actually share their pain and emotions and it was sweet and affectionate and hot as all get-out.I can HIGHLY, HIGHLY recommend Out of the Blues to all M/M romance-with-angst junkies. Mary does what she does best, putting her emotionally damaged characters in each others paths and letting nature take its course.

3 of 3 people found the following review helpful. LOVED Mason and Kilbourne By Kindle Customer Mason Foxworth is headed home. Unfortunately, home is not where he wants to be.I LOVED this book. It’s been way too long since an original Mercy Celeste title dropped into my ereader…and I was ready.Mace and Kilby are an interesting couple. Equally screwed up, but in very different manners. Mason is straight and has serious daddy issue, while Kilby is just stuck. Between dealing with the last of his PTSD and not dealing with some painful issues in his past, he is merely existing.But, their attraction is instantaneous and the sex scenes in this book could have their own rating. Forget R, let’s try OMG…I can’t believe they just did that.But, sex aside, the best part of this book was the realism.I loved the families. The siblings were great. And the healing that takes place, was beautiful, if not somewhat painful to watch.Too often writers are scared to deal with tough subject matters. Not Miss Mercy. These dysfunctional young men have dealt with suicide, sexual assault, physical abuse and PTSD. But, it’s presented in such a way that I just wanted them to succeed. Not just as a couple, but as individuals.Even the ending felt real to me.Anyhoo, I loved every minute that I spent with Mason and Kilbourne and highly recommend that you check out their story.

See all 144 customer reviews... Out of the Blues, by Mercy Celeste


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Out of the Blues, by Mercy Celeste

Out of the Blues, by Mercy Celeste

Out of the Blues, by Mercy Celeste
Out of the Blues, by Mercy Celeste

Sabtu, 13 Oktober 2012

A Ranger for the Holidays (Lone Star Cowboy League), by Allie Pleiter

A Ranger for the Holidays (Lone Star Cowboy League), by Allie Pleiter

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A Ranger for the Holidays (Lone Star Cowboy League), by Allie Pleiter

A Ranger for the Holidays (Lone Star Cowboy League), by Allie Pleiter



A Ranger for the Holidays (Lone Star Cowboy League), by Allie Pleiter

Download Ebook Online A Ranger for the Holidays (Lone Star Cowboy League), by Allie Pleiter

A Christmas to Remember 

In Little Horn, Texas, Amelia Klondike is known as the Queen of Christmas. Her generosity and sheer joy during the holidays is contagious—to everyone except Finn Brannigan. The attractive, wounded stranger doesn't know who he is or where he came from—and he isn't feeling merry at all. It isn't long before Amelia, her grandfather and their adorable dog begin to warm Finn's heart. But when Finn's memory starts to return, his past as a Texas Ranger—the one thing that might cause Amelia to withdraw from him—is revealed. And he worries that he may lose his chance for one perfect Western Christmas with the woman he can't bear to forget…

A Ranger for the Holidays (Lone Star Cowboy League), by Allie Pleiter

  • Amazon Sales Rank: #543529 in Books
  • Published on: 2015-11-17
  • Released on: 2015-11-17
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 6.55" h x .61" w x 4.22" l, .24 pounds
  • Binding: Mass Market Paperback
  • 224 pages
A Ranger for the Holidays (Lone Star Cowboy League), by Allie Pleiter

About the Author

An avid knitter, coffee junkie, and devoted chocoholic, Allie Pleiter spends her days writing books and finding new ways to avoid housework. She grew up in Connecticut, holds a BS in Speech from Northwestern University, and speaks nationally on writing, faith, and creative productivity. Allie currently lives in suburban Chicago, Illinois. Sign up for her newsletter at http://alliepleiter.com/contact.html

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Pine trees don't wear gloves.Amelia Klondike, like any sensible person on God's earth, knew that. She was out here in the woods to find pinecones for a Sunday school project, not accessories. She set down the last of the lemon bar and coffee she'd brought for breakfast—Amelia didn't believe in sensible breakfasts, ever—and picked up the glove from its place among the scattered pinecones. Large, well made, worn to a comfortable softness, it was definitely a man's glove—one that would be missed, so she should try to find its owner. She chuckled as her mind made the connection; a woman whose life's work was a charity called Here to Help ought to be able to help one glove find the man who owned it.Not that Amelia was looking to find a man—gloved or otherwise—these days. Just over a year out from a publicly broken engagement, Amelia was barely starting to feel as if talk had died down and she could be seen as Little Horn's best helping hand, not its saddest broken heart.She was tucking the glove in her pocket when she spotted its mate ten feet away. Then a boot…and a leg…until there, lying under the largest of the pine trees, Amelia spied the owner of those gloves.She blinked a few times, startled to see a large, ruggedly dressed man sprawled in the wet needles under the boughs. "Sir?" The angle of his arms and legs wasn't that of sleep, and last night's storm certainly wasn't conducive to camping out under the stars. Amelia dropped the gloves and her pack on the ground and walked over to shake the man's shoulder. "Hey, sir, are you all right?"He didn't respond. Lord, help me, what do I do? she prayed as she looked around for any sign of companions or transportation. Short of Louie, her own horse, who stood inspecting a clump of grass behind her, Amelia was alone. She didn't recognize the rather handsome man; he was clean-cut, well if casually dressed, but mud-smeared as if he'd been out here all night. As if he'd come to some kind of mishap. "Are you hurt? Sick? You don't look like you should…"Amelia swallowed her words as the man groaned and turned his head to reveal a grisly wound across his forehead. "Oh, mercy!" Amelia gasped, fumbling back to her backpack for her cell phone. She had to call 911. This man needed an ambulance.The phone was no help—she should have known she'd get no cell service way out here. How was she going to get this poor soul to help? Amelia twisted a blond curl around her fingers in panicked consideration of her options. Sometimes text got through on almost no service and she was good friends with Lucy Benson, the sheriff. Would Lucy be nearby on a Saturday morning? She pulled up Lucy's cell number and typed Emergency!She shook the man gently, pulling the scarf from her neck to wipe the worst of the drying blood from his face.Someone—or something—had taken a good whack at his forehead. Accident? Fight? Bandit? Little Horn had been experiencing its own odd crime spree in recent weeks, so there was no telling if the attractive man on the ground before her was a good guy or a bad one. If the past year had taught her anything, it was that bad guys could come in good-looking packages.Hero or villain, this was a hurt man in need of help, and right now she was the only help to be had. Carefully, she rolled him fully onto his back, which made him wince. "Sorry about this," she offered as she rummaged through his pockets for a phone, wallet or, hopefully, car keys to a truck just out of sight.The search came up empty. No keys, no wallet, no phone. "Looks like someone had it in for you, mister." Given all the robberies taking place in Little Horn of late, it wasn't hard to think the criminals had expanded their cattle and equipment theft to face-to-face holdups. It took a special brand of mean to not only take a man's valuables, but to dump him unconscious in the middle of nowhere. "Come on there, cowboy, wake up. This'd be a whole lot easier with you conscious."Her phone dinged an incoming text from Lucy. Hurt? Gramps?It would be natural for Lucy to think any emergency of Amelia's involved the elderly grandfather who lived with her, but not this time. Found injured man in woods just over ridge behind Palmer's Creek. Call 9-1-1 for me?I'm not too far from there. On my way.Some days it paid well to be best friends with the local sheriff. "Help is on the way," she told the unconscious man. Wasn't it important to keep concussion victims awake? Why hadn't she paid more attention when watching medical dramas? Try talking to him. She grasped one of his broad, solid shoulders and shook him a little harder. "Do you hurt anywhere? What's your name?"No response other than a groan, but he had moved his hand and Amelia spied a watch. "Why'd they leave your watch when they took everything else?" She began unbuckling the old, worn timepiece—it was a long shot, but maybe the watch could at least give her a name or initials if it was engraved.It was. Finn: all my love, B. Mystery man had a name—and someone who missed him. "You're no slouch to look at, Finn, B's a lucky lady. And worried, I expect." She'd spent enough time praying for her now-ex-fiance, Rafe, to come off duty from the Texas Rangers safe and sound that her heart twisted in sympathy for the likely frantic B. It looked as if Finn had been out here all night, if not longer. "Wake up, Finn." She leaned in closer to his fine features. "Finn! Finn, can you hear me?"A hint of awareness washed over the man's features. He dwarfed her—she guessed him to be over six feet tall and very fit. "Can you sit up?" She tried to pull his chest vertical, but he winced and his eyes shot wide open. They locked on to her for a second, a startling sky blue contrast to his glossy dark brown hair, before losing focus again as he fell back to the ground and murmured, "Ouch.""I guess you're more hurt than you look." Amelia pushed up the fleece he wore to see blood staining the shirt underneath. "Mercy, Finn, I don't think you should move at all. Help is on the way, so you just sit still."His hand moved to his chest. "Ribs." He said, the word slurring a bit."You might have cracked a few of those, and you're definitely bleeding." She took her scarf from behind his head and bunched it up against the red spot on his shirt. "Stay with me, Finn. Keep those eyes open." She grabbed Finn's hand, finding it alarmingly cold, and guided it to press against the scarf on his wound. His eyes found her again, the fear and confusion in his gaze going straight to the pit of her stomach."My name's Amelia, and I'm getting you help." She bit her lip. "You just stick with me, okay?"Finn nodded his head. When he coughed, she could see the pain shoot through him even as he grabbed her hand. "Where am…?" Finn's words fell off into a sharp hiss as he tried to rise again.Amelia put a hand gently to his shoulder. "Oh, no, you don't. You'd better stay still."Finn's eyes wandered again, then returned to her as he let his head fall back against the ground. He looked at her as if she was the only person in his world—and right now, wasn't she? "Where am I?" he asked in halting words."You're in…well, the middle of nowhere, really." She grabbed his free hand—the one where the watch had been—and held it, stroking his forearm in an effort to keep him calm. Keep him talking to you. "What on earth made you come up into the forest in last night's storm? Or did someone just dump you here?""I…" Finn's eyes rolled back and his lids fell shut. The hand Amelia was touching lost its tension and dropped to his chest.He'd lost consciousness again—that couldn't be good news. "Lord," Amelia prayed aloud, helplessness pushing her pulse higher, "I need to know what to do here.Don't You let Finn die before help comes. Don't You do that to him or to me." She laid her hand against Finn's chest, grateful to feel breath and a heartbeat.Amelia checked her phone again, then used the edge of her jacket to blot the sheen of sweat now beading Finn's forehead. "Finn? Finn, wake up. Show me those nice blue eyes." She grabbed his hand again, shaking it a bit to rouse him. "I found your gloves." That struck her as a ridiculous thing to say, but she didn't have a lot of experience making conversation with men out cold. Gramps fell asleep nightly—okay, hourly—in his re-cliner, but that was different. "Come on, Finn, give a gal a break. Open your eyes. Groan a little. Let me know you're still in there."Finn seemed to grow more still, even the tension in his rugged features going soft as if falling sleep. Was he dying? He was such a nice-looking guy—if she discounted the mud, leaves and blood. Far too dashing to meet his end out here in a pile of pine needles.Her phone beeped again. Shout out the text from Lucy said. Amelia dropped Finn's hand and stood to yell "Lucy!" at the top of her lungs. She heard the distant rumble of an engine and dashed over to the side of the ridge to see a little all-terrain vehicle scrambling up the hillside with Lucy's white police SUV not far behind. Some distance back, Amelia could see the flashing lights of what had to be an ambulance."Here!" Amelia yelled again, jumping up and down and waving her arms as relief filled her chest. "Over here!"When the ATV veered in her direction, Amelia dashed back to Finn, still motionless on the ground."It's okay, Finn," she said, mopping his face again."We're gonna get you out of here." She grabbed his hand, breathless and surprisingly near tears. "Help is here. You're safe.""Hello there. Welcome back. I'm Dr. Searle." A man in tortoiseshell glasses was peering at him as if he was a science experiment. The doctor's warm tone felt suspiciously rehearsed. "Can you tell me your name?"His name? His name seemed just out of reach. The combination of pain and confusion left him feeling weightless and heavy at the same time—as if he couldn't tell up from down or left from right. He couldn't answer.The doctor adjusted his glasses. "Amelia found a watch on your wrist inscribed to Finn. Is that your name?""Sounds…right," he said, mostly because he didn't know what else to say. Amelia? Did he know that name?"Well, let's go with Finn for now. Tell me, can you see my face clearly?" Dr. Searle asked."Uh…I guess so." Glory, even his teeth hurt. His tongue felt dry and sluggish. Where did this awful headache come from? Why did everything feel so out of place?Dr. Searle switched on a small light and waved it back and forth. "Do you know where you are?""No." Admitting that made the pounding in his head go double-time, a steady rhythm of not-good, not-good, not-good."You're in the Little Horn Regional Medical Center. Amelia Klondike found you unconscious in the woods early this morning. Can you tell me how you got there?"The pounding turned into a slam, with a sucker punch of fear to his gut. "No." Hospital? In the woods? Out cold? Come to think of it, he couldn't remember anything about anything except that this Amelia person sounded a bit familiar. The air turned thin and his head began to spin. "My head hurts. And my ribs.""I expect so. You've had a concussion, along with a few broken ribs and several nasty lacerations. Whatever hit you was big and mean. Took your wallet and your phone and left you out in the storm from the looks of it. Amelia said you had nothing on you but the watch."Amelia. He focused on the half-familiar name and remembered a vague impression of some very pretty blue eyes and a soft, soothing voice. Everything else was a blank."Well, Finn, it seems the knock on your head has rattled things around a bit. I'd try not to worry about it. It's not that unusual for head-trauma patients to lose the hours around their injury at first."Finn didn't like that he'd said "that unusual." And he hadn't just lost a few hours—right now it felt as if he'd lost everything. The spinning started again and he closed his eyes."I'm going to run some tests and give your description to the police. We might not be able to learn much over the weekend, but it's worth a shot. Can you tell me if Finn is your first name, a last name or a nickname?"Finn licked his dry, cracked lips. It hurt to think. For that matter, it hurt to breathe. "I don't know." He put his hand to his forehead, immediately regretting the sparks of pain it sent through the back of his eyes.The doctor put a hand on Finn's arm. "Try not to get all worked up. You must have friends or family looking for you. It won't take long to sort things out."If Dr. Searle could have picked the one idea to make Finn feel worse… The haunting sense that no one was missing him or searching for him, that he was alone, was as deep as it was inexplicable. "I don't remember anything, Doc." It felt as if the admission swallowed him whole."It'll likely come back to you in the next few hours. Are you up for a visitor? Amelia's been out in the lobby waiting for you to wake up, and if you ask me, you could do with a distraction right about now.""Sure." After all, this Amelia was the only thing he thought he remembered right now.Dr. Searle gave him a half casual, half concerned smile as he moved to the door and opened it."Well, look at you, awake and everything.""Amelia" swept into the room with a bouquet of flowers and a bundle of plaid fabric. The particular turquoise of her eyes did feel vaguely familiar, as did her voice. In fact, her voice and eyes were the only memory he could pull up at all.She deposited the flowers on his bedside table with a hopeful smile. As rescue squads went, she was pretty easy on the eyes with a tumble of blond hair and a petite, curvy figure. "Do you remember me? I found you early this morning.""A bit." He had no idea what to say."Dr. Searle says you'll recover just fine despite being pretty banged up. Gramps broke a rib once—I know it isn't much fun."Should he know who Gramps was? "It's not." Finn stared at her, feeling as if he ought to know more about her but coming up short. All he remembered was the sound of her voice saying You 're safe and the blue of her eyes. And her hand. He remembered her holding his hand. He started to say You're the only thing I remember, but changed his mind.


A Ranger for the Holidays (Lone Star Cowboy League), by Allie Pleiter

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0 of 0 people found the following review helpful. Sweet story By M. Palmer Lone Star Cowboy LeagueBook 3In this book, we meet a new character to the story. Flenn Brannigan is found by Amelia Klondike under a tree - out cold. It looks like he's been mugged and left for dead, and when he wakes up he can't remember anything about himself. Amelia and family take Flenn into their home to help him recover. Flenn is able to eventually learn enough about himself that he can give enough information to identify himself, but what he finds out may be far worse than any memory loss!I enjoyed walking this painful journey with Flinn as he learns to live and love again. My heart went out to the horrible things from his past! Christmas it the worst time to experience tragedy.The story was sweet.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful. Good holiday romance! By Becca I was looking for a Christmas romance when I happened across A Ranger for the Holidays. I had no knowledge of the series--didn't realize at first it was part of a series until certain incidents were mentioned--but it could definitely be a stand alone book. There was an incident at the very end and as I said, other things happened that had obviously been started in another book but I wasn't overwhelmed with character histories from previous books, for which I'm grateful. I loved Amelia and Finn's story. Bug was cute, as was Finn teaching him to climb the stairs. Very good holiday book. I'd definitely recommend it.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful. Truly Beautiful! By Kimberly Bush I just finished reading this book! I absolutely loved it. Yes I even cried a little reading it. A beautiful story, showing so many emotions. You can imagine being there working through Finn's struggles.

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A Ranger for the Holidays (Lone Star Cowboy League), by Allie Pleiter
A Ranger for the Holidays (Lone Star Cowboy League), by Allie Pleiter

Rabu, 03 Oktober 2012

Fighting For Forever: A Springs Novella (The Springs), by Elena Aitken

Fighting For Forever: A Springs Novella (The Springs), by Elena Aitken

Reserve Fighting For Forever: A Springs Novella (The Springs), By Elena Aitken is among the priceless worth that will certainly make you always abundant. It will not suggest as rich as the cash provide you. When some individuals have absence to encounter the life, people with several e-books sometimes will certainly be smarter in doing the life. Why need to be publication Fighting For Forever: A Springs Novella (The Springs), By Elena Aitken It is in fact not implied that book Fighting For Forever: A Springs Novella (The Springs), By Elena Aitken will certainly give you power to reach every little thing. Guide is to read as well as just what we suggested is the e-book that is reviewed. You can additionally view exactly how guide entitles Fighting For Forever: A Springs Novella (The Springs), By Elena Aitken and varieties of publication collections are giving right here.

Fighting For Forever: A Springs Novella (The Springs), by Elena Aitken

Fighting For Forever: A Springs Novella (The Springs), by Elena Aitken



Fighting For Forever: A Springs Novella (The Springs), by Elena Aitken

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"With the right person, marriage isn’t a life sentence. It’s a life." Ever since falling in love at The Springs, Rhys and Kari have been living a fairy tale, but fairy tales aren't real. Or are they? When Kari runs from the idea of forever, Rhys will have to fight for them. But will it be enough? **Please note: This is a novella that accompanies The Springs series and is best read after reading Falling for Forever THE SPRINGS Book 1- Summer of Change (Trent and Samantha) Book 2 - Falling Into Forever (Rhys and Kari) Book 3 - Winter's Burn (Slade and Beth) Book 4 - Midnight Springs (Jax and Bria) Second Glances (A Springs Novella) She's Making A List (A Springs Holiday Novella) And now available...The Stone Summit Trilogy Summit of Desire (Malcolm & Kylie) Summit of Seduction (Seth & Cynthia) Summit of Passion (Marcus & Deanna)

Fighting For Forever: A Springs Novella (The Springs), by Elena Aitken

  • Amazon Sales Rank: #120333 in eBooks
  • Published on: 2015-11-18
  • Released on: 2015-11-18
  • Format: Kindle eBook
Fighting For Forever: A Springs Novella (The Springs), by Elena Aitken


Fighting For Forever: A Springs Novella (The Springs), by Elena Aitken

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0 of 0 people found the following review helpful. Sweet Romance! By Lori Fighting For Forever- This is a continuation of Rhys and Kari's love story. Rhys and Kari had been through a lot and their relationship couldn't be stronger so Rhys saw no reason not to move forward with the next step. In fact he wanted it more than anything and hoped Kari did also. He was planning a romantic evening with dinner, wine and a ring, but doubt crept into is head when his friends tried to help. Kari knew that Rhys had made special plans for their night out, but it didn't turn out the way she expected so she had to take matters into her own hands because Rhys was the love of her life.I loved the continuation of Rhys and Kari's love story!I was given an ARC for an honest review. All conclusions are mine and mine alone.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful. Five Stars By Amazon Customer Loved the whole series.

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Fighting For Forever: A Springs Novella (The Springs), by Elena Aitken

Fighting For Forever: A Springs Novella (The Springs), by Elena Aitken
Fighting For Forever: A Springs Novella (The Springs), by Elena Aitken