Private Means
Описание книги
LeFavour’s fiction debut is an upmarket literary crossover book with a ton of beach-read potential. Will appeal to fans of marriage-gone-awry novels such as The Vacationers by Emma Straub, Fates and Furies by Lauren Groff, and the work of Nora Ephron, Anita Shreve, Meg Wolitzer, and Anna Quindlen. A renowned memoirist and James Beard award-winning cookbook author, LeFavour has a burgeoning readership and many fans in the literary world. Her memoir Lights On, Rats Out , received a rave full page NYTBR review from Daphne Merkin, was featured in People and Harper’s Bazaar , and was a Kirkus Best Book of the Year for Nonfiction and An Amazon Best Book of the Month. Set over the course of one summer, starting on Memorial Day weekend and ending on Labor Day, Private Means follows two privileged married intellectuals who find themselves at odds with one another and dare to look elsewhere for thrills. LeFavour matches poignant and intellectual insights into human behavior with fast-paced prose and a page-turning, sexy plot.We have a rave blurb from Elizabeth Gilbert who compares Private Means to Cheever and McEwan, and we have two more blurbs coming from Claire Dederer and Michael Cunningham.
Оглавление
Cree LeFavour. Private Means
Private Means
Cree LeFavour
Contents
Friday, May 25, Memorial Day Weekend
Friday, May 25, Memorial Day Weekend
Sunday, May 27, Memorial Day Weekend
Tuesday, May 29
Tuesday, May 29
Saturday, June 16
Friday–Sunday, July 6–8, July 4 Observed
Tuesday, July 17
Monday, July 23
Friday–Sunday, July 27–29
Wednesday, August 8
Friday–Sunday, August 10–12
Friday, August 17
Monday, August 27, and Thursday, August 30
Saturday–Monday, September 1–3, Labor Day Weekend
Acknowledgements
Отрывок из книги
Also by Cree LeFavour
Lights On, Rats Out
.....
The absence of Alice’s mournful, fidgety presence in the passenger seat freed his mind to drift. Peter had done his best to distract her from the dog, although he hadn’t been able to convince her to leave the city for the weekend. She’d chosen to stay, to search for Maebelle and attend a pet-related meeting of some sort. He hoped he’d managed to conceal his relief that she’d chosen not to come. He’d done his best to make a show of his desire for her company just as he’d made an effort to be sympathetic in the present crisis.
How bored he was of Alice’s singular preoccupation. She’d been a wreck—doing nothing but search since the dog walker somehow had allowed Maebelle to slip out of her collar during a group walk and then, of all brainless things, allowed her to disappear down Riverside Drive Park amid the nepeta, drooping bleeding heart branches, and ragged, overblown irises. What kind of half-wit did that? The dog’s legs were all of four inches long. How fast could she possibly get away? The only grace he could identify in the situation was that he hadn’t been the one holding the other end of the leash.
.....