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William Kent Krueger

William Kent Krueger Books

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Ordinary Grace

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This Tender Land

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Thunder Bay

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“The greatest word in the human vocabulary has only four letters and no definition that has ever been adequate. We love our dogs, we love our children. We love God and chocolate cake. We fall in love and fall out of love. We die for love and we kill for love. We can’t spend it, we can’t eat it when we’re starving or drink it when we’re dying of thirst. It’s no good against the bitter cold of winter, and even a cheap electric fan will do more for you on a hot summer day. But ask most human beings what they value above all else in this life, and five will get you ten, it’s love. We’re a screwy species, I thought.”

“[Bluestone's] dark eyes, which had been focused on the blue sky outside the cellblock window, shifted to Wicklow. "A lot of white folks in these parts, their ancestors were killed in what your history books call the Great Sioux Uprising. In schools, they teach that the Dakota were savages, that we rose up against our neighbors and slaughtered them." "The Sioux--Dakota--here probably have ancestors killed by whites." "But the Dakota didn't win that war. In the end, a war is always about who wins. My people had no chance. It doesn't matter that they had every reason to be angry and desperate. They'd been lied to, cheated, starved, their land and everything on it stolen. So they fought. And they lost. But the history has been written by the whites. In Black Earth County, it's the whites who believe they were set on unfairly, cruelly, and have the right to carry all that hatred in their hearts.”

“[Scott] heard the clock on the living room mantel strike midnight, and he could no longer lie there suffering. He slipped from his bed, dressed, and so quietly that he might not even have existed--and wouldn't that have been the best, he thought miserably--left the house. Spring field crickets chirred in the darkness but stopped as he passed, and their sudden silence felt to him like censure. The moon poured silver over the town, and his black shadow kept company at his side. He walked without particular purpose, walked because he couldn't be still, walked mindless, walked dead.”

“Nicole Baart has written a novel that satisfies on every level. Sleeping In Eden is a compelling mystery, a tragic love story, a perceptive consideration of the callous whim of circumstance and, perhaps most important, a beautiful piece of prose. I guarantee this is a book that will haunt you long after you've turned the last page.”

“We turn, three men bound by love, by history, by circumstance, and most certainly by the awful grace of God, and together walk a narrow lane where headstones press close all around, reminding me gently of Warren Redstone’s parting wisdom, which I understand now. The dead are never far from us. They’re in our hearts and on our minds and in the end all that separates us from them is a single breath, one final puff of air.”

“Michael Koryta isn’t just one of the finest authors working in the crime genre today. He’s simply one of today’s finest authors, period. His stories are taut, compelling, and beautifully rendered. His understanding of human nature-the good, the evil, and all the gray between-is masterful. THOSE WHO WISH ME DEAD is Koryta at his best.”