Résultats lu par "Thom Gardner" dans Toutes les catégories

Convicts and academics find themselves here, as does an American sportswriter, a teenage student with her widowed father, and a reclusive, 'missing' author. But, there is a darker side to the town. Girls and women are disappearing at an alarming rate. As a sense of conspiracy grows and an apocalyptic shadow draws closer, the corruption, violence and decadence of twentieth-century history reveals itself in a novel of an astonishing scale and burning intensity.

In 1994, Ron Goldman and Nicole Brown Simpson were brutally murdered at her home in Brentwood, California. O. J. Simpson was tried for the crime, but was ultimately found not guilty of criminal charges. The victims' families brought civil cases against Simpson, in which he was found liable for willfully and wrongfully causing the deaths of Ron and Nicole by committing battery with malice and oppression. The Goldman family views this book as Simpson's confession.

Learning to be present with Christ at his table of bounty brings you a life full of peace, power, and presence. You are invited to dine in his presence of acceptance where you can let go of all your burdens and meet him face-to-face for a heart-to heart relationship.

Shelagh Delaney was just 19 when her debut play, A Taste of Honey, premiered in 1958. One of the great ‘kitchen sink dramas’, it was ground-breaking in its portrayal of working-class Northern women, gay and Black men, and influenced popular culture from The Smiths to Coronation Street. This collection opens with a 2004 radio production of A Taste of Honey, followed by seven dramas specially written for BBC Radio, all showcasing Delaney’s extraordinary gift for depicting the experiences and emotions of ordinary women and children.

I met him when my ship was sinking, and I clung to him through the storm. Little did I know he needed me as much as I needed him. The first time I saw Roman Dante King, he stuck out like an odd puzzle piece that got mixed up in the wrong box. It wasn’t his blue eyes in the dim light of the bar, the tattoos that covered his arms and hands, or even his arrogant personality. It was something else—something I couldn’t see—that told me he didn’t belong in our small beach town on the Oregon coast.