“Fascinating and hilarious,” “relentlessly clever,” and “truly haunting” are all phrases that have been used to describe David Schickler’s unique talent. And all apply to this brash, brilliant novel featuring two of the most memorable characters in contemporary fiction: Grace McGlone and Henry Dante.
Sexy and willful, Grace McGlone is saving herself for the right man. When Henry Dante pulls into the small Wisconsin town where she works at the car wash, she instantly knows he’s the one. He knows it too. But when Grace discovers Henry has “The Planets”—a stolen set of famous Spanish diamonds—stashed in the back seat of his truck, she’s having none of it. She’s “trying for heaven,” and the ill-gotten jewels must go. And so they do, in a race across the American landscape from Chicago to Yellowstone, purusued by a savage gangster obsessed by the diamonds he thought were his.
Passionate, criminal, comical, and possessing all the dark enchantment of a fairy tale, Sweet and Vicious is a modern love story shot straight from the heart of David Schickler’s miraculous imagination.
From the Hardcover edition.
Share your thoughts on the Sweet and Vicious Biography eBook with others!
|Title of eBook: Sweet and Vicious|
|Release Date: 08-31-2004|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: Random House Publishing Group|
This eBook download is available in the following formats:
|Parent title||Sweet and Vicious|
|Devices||Samsung Tablet, Apple Ipad & Iphone, Barnes & Noble Nook, Kobo eReader, Aluratek Libre, Iliad, Nokia, Blackberry, Hanlin|
|Note||ePub, short for electronic publication is one of our favorites and should be yours for a couple of reasons. ePub offers reflowable text giving you flexibility to manipulate how the content is presented. Moreover, lots of cool features are now being developed for the reader like advanced video and audio. ePub is now an industry standard, so all of the "non-propreitary" hardware manufacturers are now supporting it.|
Sweet and Vicious
Earth . . .
We’re driving on the highway in the Buick when a hawk crashes through our windshield.
“Holy hell,” says Floyd, and Roger and I say stuff too. The car swerves.
Brap, screeches the hawk. It’s dying, then it dies. It’s stuck through our windshield, its body on the hood and its head inside, like it’s peeking through curtains, checking things out backstage. There are spikes of glass, I spill my Big Gulp, and the hawk has a squirrel in its talons.
“Dammit.” Sprite fills the crotch of my jeans. I’m riding shotgun.
“There’s a hawk in our windshield,” shouts Floyd. He sounds awed or thrilled. He’s in the backseat. Wind whistles in around the hawk’s body, which is wedged tight. Roger, who’s driving, fights with the wheel.
“There’s a hawk in our windshield,” shouts Floyd, “and there’s glass everywhere.”
Roger pulls over. We take deep breaths. It’s six in the morning, no other cars around. There are ribbons of fog over the highway, points of dew in the roadside grass. Also, hanging dead before us is a red-tailed king of the skies.
“Wow,” says Roger. He’s got on black leather driving gloves.
“The hawk is holding a rat or something,” says Floyd.
It’s early May, the new millennium. I’m thirty-two and I bust people’s heads for Honey Pobrinkis, a Chicago gangster. Floyd’s my partner in the head-busting department. He wears his blond hair in a biker’s ponytail, and he’s as dumb as tundra, but he’s got