Résultats Éditeur "Random House Audio" dans Littérature et fiction

Chauncey Greer is the owner of Cute Boy Card Company, a thriving company in Atlanta. As a teenager, he was a member of a popular boy band, but left in disgrace when word got out that he and his band mate D were more than good friends. Chauncey is a free spirit, on the brink of 40 with a body admired by both men and women. Not into being categorized, Chauncey's been known to hook up with men and women, but he's found that women ask too many questions, so he's just focusing on the fellas.

When the revered children's book author Mort Lear dies accidentally at his Connecticut home, he leaves his property and all its contents to his trusted assistant, Tomasina Daulair, who is moved by his generosity but dismayed by the complicated and defiant directives in his will. Tommy knew Morty for more than four decades, since meeting him in a Manhattan playground when she was 12 and he was working on sketches for the book that would make him a star.

Jonah Mixon-Webster works at the intersections of space and the body, race and region, sexuality and class. Stereo(TYPE), his debut collection of poetry, is a reckoning and a force, a revision of our most sacred mythologies, and a work of documentary reporting from Mixon-Webster’s hometown of Flint, Michigan, where clean tap water remains an uncertainty and the aftermath of racist policies persist.

When Rickey Laurentiis debuted in 2015 with Boy With Thorn, the poetry world heralded the arrival of an astonishing new lyric talent. “Call Rickey Laurentiis’ stylistic range virtuosity or call it correctly, necessity,” Terrance Hayes wrote. In the past decade, as Laurentiis has transitioned, her ideas of the lyric and poetry have transformed, as has the America in which she lived. This staggering, irreverent, gentle and erotic book is a record of that ten-year journey. It draws on, expands, and then fractures the many poetic traditions which informed Laurentiis’ poetics.

In the thick of winter 2020, when so many books were buried beneath the catastrophe of the COVID-19 news cycle, one unlikely debut seemed to cut through the noise. Jamie Hood’s How to Be a Good Girl was an inventive and hybrid work of self-making, mingling diary entries, poetry, literary criticism, and love letters to interrogate the archetype of the “good girl,” and the ideas of femininity, passivity, desire, and trauma that come with it.

In m. mick powell’s polyphonic, haunting debut, a chorus of voices conjures up intimate pop herstories to map how the poet’s queer Black girlhood was molded by their memory. With tender reverence, powell meditates on the deaths of her own beloveds while reflecting on the many stages of an icon’s life: How did these women challenge conventional representations of Black femininity and transform the musical landscape? How did they navigate abuse and alienation in the limelight? How do the mythologies that survive them establish afterlives of queer femme possibility?

Ein queerer Urban Fantasy Roman. Vampire sind Monster. Dessen wird sich der 2000 Jahre alte Boris erneut bewusst, als er für die Ausbildung zum Kriminalbeamten gezwungen wird, wieder frisches Blut zu trinken. Ambrosia hat ihn für viele Jahrzehnte menschlich gemacht, ihm ermöglicht zu atmen – aber Menschlichkeit hilft ihm im Kampf gegen Untote, Werwesen und Dämonen nicht weiter. Es ist vor allem seine eigene Art, gegen die es zu kämpfen gilt. Ein Vampirclan verbreitet Angst und Terror in der Stadt.

With searing intelligence and great sensitivity, the poems of Kelly Caldwell—many addressed to Cass Donish, her partner in the years before her suicide at thirty-one, swim through a complex matrix of transformations: mental illness, divorce, gender transition, and self-discovery. But they wrestle, too, with the poet’s painful relationships with her family of Christian missionaries, who refused to affirm her identity.

In Your Dazzling Death, Cass Donish courageously summons the poems to witness their own state of “obliteration,” widowed by suicide and isolated as a global pandemic is unfolding. Elegizing their partner, the poet Kelly Caldwell, they insist that the intimate, ongoing conversation with a beloved mysteriously continues after loss.

Alex Dimitrov embraces a life on the edge in New York and the finely wrought poetry that can come out of it as he explores sex, drugs, parties, pleasure, and God in the 2020s, and looks back to a coming-of-age in the 1990s that still informs who his generation is and will be. His unabashed and drivingly musical poems are a call against repression, a rebuke of cultural norms and shame, and a celebration of human authenticity—even if to live under such philosophies is dangerous.

It's 1975 in Austin, and the Rush Creek Saloon, five miles west of town, is a bar without a crowd. But when a strange new house band takes the stage, the hippies roll in and the good ole boys find their way back. Told in a trio of voices—a guitarist chasing what may be his last shot at success; a bar owner trying to see a future in her lifeless marriage; and a young kid from East Texas desperate for kinship, or at least something to take the damn edge off—Walk Softly on This Heart of Mine delivers a riotous love song to an enigmatic city.