Peter Shelton:Climb to Conquer: the Untold Story of Wwii's 10th Mountain Division Ski Troops
- Taschenbuch 2004, ISBN: 9780743226066
Springer Publishing Company. New. Brand New! Not Overstocks or Low Quality Book Club Editions! Direct From the Publisher! We're not a giant, faceless warehouse organization! We're a s… Mehr…
Springer Publishing Company. New. Brand New! Not Overstocks or Low Quality Book Club Editions! Direct From the Publisher! We're not a giant, faceless warehouse organization! We're a small town bookstore that loves books and loves it's customers!, Springer Publishing Company, 6, (Subject: World War II - General) The experiences of four men of different nationalities caught up in WWII. Antonio Benetti - an Italian Ski Commando, Helmut Steiner - a German Tank Driver, Odell Dobson - an American Air Gunner and George Paine - a British Paratrooper. Each of them told their stories to Bruce Lewis who has skilfully managed to preserve the idiosyncrasies of their contrasting cultures and backgrounds. (Published: 1988) (Publisher: Arrow Books) (ISBN: 9780099588306) (Pagination: 209pp illustrations) (Condition: Very good in card covers) UL-XXXXXX, 0, Penguin. Very Good. 4.53 x 1.3 x 7.28 inches. Paperback. 2004. 356 pages. Name on ffep. <br>C.J. Townsend is a brilliant prosecu tor known for keeping her cool even when trying the most horrific cases. The latest: an accused serial killer who savors cruelty a nd considers murder an art. But this case is different. C.J. reco gnizes the suspect. She knows what he's capable of. After all the se years, she still has the nightmares to prove it. Now she's wal king the fine line between justice and revenge. Even C.J. isn't p repared for where it will take her. Book 1 in the C.J. Townsend trilogy. Editorial Reviews From Publishers Weekly With this gr aphic serial killer/courtroom thriller, debut novelist Hoffman jo ins the lengthening list of high-powered legal ladies whose profe ssional expertise serves as the basis for authentic, insider crim e fiction. Blond, beautiful law student Chloe Larson is looking f orward to a great future with successful New York businessman Mic hael Decker. Her expectations are shattered forever after a madma n in a clown mask rapes and tortures her until she is near death. She survives physically, but psychologically slips into an exten ded mental breakdown. Twelve years later she's dyed her hair mous y brown and become unassuming, hardworking C.J. Townsend, assista nt chief of the Miami Dade State Attorney's office. A suspiciousl y lucky break nets serial killer suspect William Bantling, and C. J. takes over the prosecution as part of her normal workload. Whe n Bantling stands up in court and speaks, C.J. realizes he's the man who raped her years ago. C.J. learns that the statute of limi tations has run out on her rape and that her involvement in that case might very well cause Bantling to be freed on a technicality . Love interest Special Agent Dominick Falconetti knows there is something seriously wrong as C.J.'s mental state begins to deteri orate, but she brushes off his concern and immerses herself in he r work on the case. The far-fetched resolution will throw some re aders, but Hoffman compensates with a compellingly horrific villa in and an undeniably exciting final confrontation. Copyright © Re ed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rig hts reserved. --This text refers to an alternate paperback editio n. From Booklist Hoffman comes on to the scene with a vengeance in her debut novel. It's 1988, and Chloe, fresh out of law schoo l and cramming for the New York State bar exam, has her future sh attered when she is brutally raped and maimed; she blows off the exam and her would-be fiancé because she is so haunted by the cri me and the indelible mark it has left on her life. Cut to 2000; t here is a serial rapist on the loose who doesn't just injure his victims, he carves out their hearts and leaves them for dead in c onspicuous places. On the case is compassionate officer Dominick Falconetti of the Florida Department of Law Enforcement, and when a suspect is found, Dominick is teamed with C. J. Townsend of th e Major Crimes Unit of the state's attorney's office. Together th e talented cop (male) and aggressive prosecutor (female) build th e case against the creep, but there is an urgency to C. J.'s acti ons that makes Dominick wonder about her motivation. This is a fi ne first novel, with twists and turns of the highest order and an ending that is downright breathtaking. Mary Frances Wilkens Copy right © American Library Association. All rights reserved --This text refers to an alternate paperback edition. Review Retributi on delivers. --New York Daily News Strongly recommended. --Libra ry Journal, starred review The twists and turns are a suspense l over's dream--the climax is chillingly good. An absolutely remark able first outing. --Rendezvous Magazine Satisfying...chillingly dark. --San Francisco Chronicle --This text refers to an alterna te paperback edition. About the Author Jilliane Hoffman began h er professional career as an Assistant State Attorney prosecuting felonies in Florida, with special assignments to the Domestic Vi olence Unit and the Legal Extradition Unit. She has advised more than one hundred special agents on criminal and civil matters in complex investigations involving narcotics, homicide, and organiz ed crime. Her novels include the bestselling Retribution, Last W itness, The Cutting Room, Plea of Insanity, and Pretty Little Thi ngs. Originally from Long Island, New York, she presently resides in South Florida with her husband and two children. --This text refers to an alternate paperback edition. Excerpt. ® Reprinted b y permission. All rights reserved. 1 JUNE 1988 NEW YORK CITY CHLOE LARSON WAS, as usual, in a mad and blinding rush. She had a ll of ten minutes to change into something suitable to wear to Th e Phantom of the Opera-currently sold out a year in advance and t he hottest show on Broadway-put on a face, and catch the 6:52 p.m . train out of Bayside into the city, which was, in itself, a thr ee-minute car ride from her apartment to the station. That left h er with really only seven minutes. She whipped through her overst uffed closet that she had meant to clean out last winter, and qui ckly settled on a black crepe skirt and matching jacket with a pi nk camisole. Clutching one shoe in her hand, she muttered Michael 's name under her breath, while she frantically tossed aside shoe after shoe from the pile on the closet floor, at last finally fi nding the black patent-leather pump's mate. She hurried down th e hall to the bathroom, pulling on her heels as she walked. It wa s not supposed to happen like this, she thought as she flipped he r long blond hair upside down, quickly combing it with one hand, while simultaneously brushing her teeth with the other. She was s upposed to be relaxed and carefree, giddy with anticipation, her mind free of distractions when the question to end all questions was finally asked of her. Not rushing to and fro, on almost no sl eep, from intense classes and study groups with other really anxi ous people, the New York State Bar Exam oppressively intruding up on her every thought. She spit out the mouthwash, spritzed on Cha nel No. 5, and practically ran to the front door. Four minutes. S he had four minutes, or else she would have to catch the 7:22 and then she would probably miss the curtain. An image of a dapper a nd annoyed Michael, waiting outside the Majestic Theater, rose in hand, box in pocket, checking his watch, flashed into her mind. It was not supposed to happen like this. She was supposed to be more prepared. She hurried through the courtyard to her car, he r fingers rushing to put on the earrings she had grabbed off the nightstand in her room. From the second story above, she felt the eyes of her strange and reclusive neighbor upon her, moving over her from behind his living room window, as they did every day. J ust watching as she made her way through the courtyard into the b usy world and on with her life. She shook off the cold, uncomfort able feeling as quickly as it had come and climbed into her car. This was no time to think about Marvin. This was no time to think of the bar exam or bar review classes or study groups. It was ti me to think only of her answer to the question to end all questio ns that Michael was surely going to ask her tonight. Three minu tes. She had only three minutes, she thought, as she cheated the corner stop sign, barely making the light up on Northern Boulevar d. The deafening sound of the train whistle was upon her now as she ran up the platform stairs two at a time. The doors closed o n her just as she waved a thank you to the conductor for waiting and made her way into the car. She sat back against the ripped re d vinyl seat and caught her breath from that last run through the parking lot and up the stairs. The train pulled out of the stati on, headed for Manhattan. She had barely made it. Just relax an d calm down now, Chloe, she told herself, looking at Queens as it passed her by in the fading light of day. Because tonight, after all, was going to be a very special night. Of that she was certa in. 2 JUNE 1988 NEW YORK CITY THE WIND HAD PICKED UP and the thick evergreen bushes that hid his motionless body from sight b egan to rustle and sway. Just to the west, lightning lit the sky, and jagged streaks of white and purple flashed behind the brilli ant Manhattan skyline. There was little doubt that it was going t o pour-and soon. Buried deep in the dark underbrush, his jaw clen ched tight and his neck stiffened at the rumble of thunder. Would n't that just put the icing on the cake, though? A thunderstorm w hile he sat out here waiting for that bitch to finally get home. Crouched low under the thick mange of bushes that surrounded the apartment building there was no breeze, and the heat had become so stifling under the heavy clown mask that he could almost feel the flesh melting off his face. The smell of rotting leaves and m oist dirt overwhelmed the evergreen, and he tried hard not to bre athe in through his nose. Something small scurried by his ear, an d he forced his mind to stop imagining the different kinds of ver min that might, right now, be crawling on his person, up his slee ves, in his work boots. He fingered the sharp, jagged blade anxio usly with gloved fingertips. There were no signs of life in the deserted courtyard. All was quiet, but for the sound of the wind blowing through the branches of the lumbering oak trees, and the constant hum and rattle of a dozen or more air conditioners, pre cariously suspended up above him from their windowsills. Thick, f ull hedges practically grew over the entire side of the building, and he knew that, even from the apartments above, he could still not be seen. The carpet of weeds and decaying leaves crunched so ftly under his weight as he pulled himself up and moved slowly th rough the bushes toward her window. She had left her blinds ope n. The glow from the streetlamp filtered through the hedges, slic ing dim ribbons of light across the bedroom. Inside, all was dark and still. Her bed was unmade and her closet door was open. Shoe s-high heels, sandals, sneakers-lined the closet floor. Next to h er television, a stuffed-bear collection was displayed on the cro wded dresser. Dozens of black marble eyes glinted back at him in the amber slivers of light from the window. The red glow on her a larm clock read 12:33 a.m. His eyes knew exactly where to look. They quickly scanned down the dresser, and he licked his dry lip s. Colored bras and matching lacy panties lay tossed about in the open drawer. His hand went to his jeans and he felt his hard-o n rise back to life. His eyes moved fast to the rocking chair whe re she had hung her white lace nightie. He closed his eyes and st roked himself faster, recalling in his mind exactly how she had l ooked last night. Her firm, full tits bouncing up and down while she fucked her boyfriend in that see-through white nightie. Her h ead thrown back in ecstasy, and her curved, full mouth open wide with pleasure. She was a bad girl, leaving her blinds open. Very bad. His hand moved faster still. Now he envisioned how she would look with those long legs wrapped in nylon thigh-highs and strap ped into a pair of the high heels from her closet. And his own ha nds, locked around their black spikes, hoisting her legs up, up, up in the air and then spreading them wide apart while she scream ed. First in fear, and then in pleasure. Her blond mane fanned ou t under her head on the bed, her arms strapped tight to the headb oard. The lacy crotch of her pretty pink panties and her thick bl ond bush, exposed right by his mouth. Yum-yum! He moaned loudly i n his head and his breath hissed as it escaped through the tiny s lit in the center of his contorted red smile. He stopped himself before he climaxed and opened his eyes again. Her bedroom door sa t ajar, and he could see that the rest of the apartment was dark and empty. He sank back down to his spot under the evergreens. Sw eat rolled down his face, and the latex suctioned fast to the ski n. Thunder rumbled again, and he felt his cock slowly shrivel bac k down inside his pants. She was supposed to have been home hou rs ago. Every single Wednesday night she's home no later then 10: 45 p.m. But tonight, tonight, of all nights, she's late. He bit d own hard on his lower lip, reopening the cut he had chewed on an hour earlier, tasting the salty blood that flooded his mouth. He fought back the almost overwhelming urge to scream. Goddamn mot her-fucking bitch! He could not help but be disappointed. He had been so excited, so thrilled, just counting off the minutes. At 1 0:45 she would walk right past him, only steps away, in her tight gym clothes. The lights would go on above him, and he would rise slowly to the window. She would purposely leave the blinds open, and he would watch. Watch as she pulled her sweaty T-shirt over her head and slid her tight shorts over her naked thighs. Watch a s she would get herself ready for bed. Ready for him! Like a gid dy schoolboy on his first date, he had giggled to himself merrily in the bushes. How far will we go tonight, my dear? First base? Second? All the way? But those initial, exciting minutes had tick ed by and here he still was, two hours later-squatting like a vag rant with unspeakable vermin crawling all over him, probably bree ding in his ears. The anticipation that had fueled him, that had fed the fantasy, was now gone. His disappointment had slowly turn ed into anger, an anger that had grown more intense with each pas sing minute. He clenched his teeth hard and his breath hissed. No , siree, he was not excited anymore. He was not thrilled. He was beyond annoyed. He sat chewing his lip in the dark for what see med like another hour, but really was only a matter of minutes. L ightning lit the sky and the thunder rumbled even louder and he k new then that it was time to go. Grudgingly, he removed his mask, gathered his bag of tricks, and extricated himself from the bush es. He knew that there would be a next time. Headlights beamed down the dark street just then, and he quickly ducked off the cem ent pathway back behind the hedges. A sleek silver BMW pulled up fast in front of the complex, double-parking no less than thirty feet from his hiding spot. Minutes passed like hours, but final ly the passenger door opened, and two long and luscious legs, the ir delicate feet wrapped in high-heeled black patent-leather pump s, swung out. He knew instantly that it was her, and an inexplica ble feeling of calm came over him. It must be fate. Then the Clo wn sank back under the evergreens. To wait. --from Retribution by J, Penguin, 2004, 3, Harlin Quist. Very Good. 254 x 256.54 x 7.62mm. Paperback. 1974. 32 pages. Cover worn.<br>Thirteen incredible, very short stories which include a man who skied down Mt. Everest and a millionaire who died eating money. ., Harlin Quist, 1974, 3, Point. Good. 4.25 x 0.5 x 7 inches. Mass Market Paperback. 1992. 182 pages. Cover worn.<br>Cooped up in her cabin with a sprained ankle, Jody spends her ski vacation peeking through her window at the activity next door, and realizes too late that she has witne ssed the murder of the most popular girl in school ., Point, 1992, 2.5, Grosset & Dunlap. Used - Good. Good condition. Slightly dampstained., Grosset & Dunlap, 2.5, Few stories from the "greatest generation" are as unforgettable -- or as little known -- as that of the 10th Mountain Division. Today a versatile light infantry unit deployed around the world, the 10th began in 1941 as a crew of civilian athletes with a passion for mountains and snow. In this vivid history, adventure writer Peter Shelton follows the unique division from its conception on a Vermont ski hill, through its dramatic World War II coming-of-age, to the ultimate revolution it inspired in American outdoor life.In the late-1930s United States, rock climbing and downhill skiing were relatively new sports. But World War II brought a need for men who could handle extreme mountainous conditions -- and the elite 10th Mountain Division was born. Everything about it was unprecedented: It was the sole U.S. Army division trained on snow and rock, the only division ever to grow out of a sport. It had an un-matched number of professional athletes, college scholars, and potential officer candidates, and as the last U.S. division to enter the war in Europe, it suffered the highest number of casualties per combat day. This is the 10th's surprising, suspenseful, and often touching story.Drawing on years of interviews and research, Shelton re-creates the ski troops' lively, extensive, and sometimes experimental training and their journey from boot camp to the Italian Apennines. There, scaling a 1,500-foot "unclimbable" cliff face in the dead of night, they stunned their enemy and began the eventual rout of the German armies from northern Italy.It was a self-selecting elite, a brotherhood in sport and spirit. And those who survived (including the Sierra Club's David Brower, Aspen Skiing Corporation founder Friedl Pfeifer, and Nike cofounder Bill Bowerman, who developed the waffle-sole running shoe) turned their love of mountains into the thriving outdoor industry that has transformed the way Americans see (and play in) the natural world., Scribner, 2003, 3<
