By George Pelecanos
Christopher Flynn is making an attempt to get it correct. After years of difficulty and uprising that enraged his father and approximately expense him his existence, he has a gradual task in his father's corporation, he's heavily relationship a lady he respects, and, other than the mistrust that lingers in his father's eyes, his errors are firmly within the past.
One day at the task, Chris and his associate encounter a temptation nearly too enormous to withstand. Chris does the proper factor, yet outdated behavior and instincts upward thrust to the skin, threatening this new-found balance with surprising treachery and violence. along with his father and his so much depended on pals, he is taking one final probability to blast previous the demons attempting to pull him again.
Like Richard cost or William Kennedy, Pelecanos pushes his characters to the extremes, their redemption that a lot sweeter since it is so difficult fought. Pelecanos has lengthy been celebrated for his unerring skill to painting the conflicts males believe as they seek and fight for energy and love in an international that's usually harsh and unforgiving yet can finally be full of beauty.
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Additional info for The Way Home
He pointed past the edge of the umbrella at the eaves of the mansion. If the wind comes too fast from the south, it whistles in the eaves. It can keep you awake nights. The explanation should have quieted her nerves, but it did not. That cry seemed too filled with emotion to be made by something inanimate. Suddenly, she remembered things that she should have asked Richard. Why had he been late? Why did Catherine, the waitress, fear him so? What was this curse that Aunt Cora talked about and which he called a psychiatric problem"?
He was watching her over the rim of his cup as he sipped his coffee. Unexplainably, she remembered that he had opened her suitcases upon placing them in her room. She had still not been able to decide whether or not he had been snooping, whether such a gesture was only meant as a final courtesy. But this very direct gaze of his seemed to pry at her own eyes, to peel back her brain and seek for secrets. She didn't like that at all. �My room is wonderful, she said. I'm anxious to explore the grounds and do some riding.
Later that night, Cora came to Jenny's room. She was dressed in a lovely yellow lounging robe which contrasted with her dark beauty and her cultured dignity to make both those qualities even more evident. Jenny secretly hoped that, when she was Cora's age, she would look as feminine and sophisticated as her aunt. If I reach her age, she amended. And immediately, she wondered why she always had to have such negative thoughts. �I'd like to talk to you about Freya, Cora Brucker said. She sat on the edge of the bed.