“Think for a moment what paper means to people. How ubiquitous it is in everyday life….A material of paradoxes, it can be used and abused in a thousand ways and still be the same under its skin. It is the embodiment of man’s achievement, yet it is as transient and as flimsy as tissue…. In its strengths and weaknesses, faults and flaws, it is intensely human….”
A lush and intoxicating blend of art history, eroticism, and suspense, Taylor Holden's The Sense of Paper is like no other debut novel you’ve ever read. An enthralling exploration of the role of paper in art, it is also the sumptuous story of a woman living on the dangerous edge of obsession, passion, and murder.
From the Trade Paperback edition.
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|Title of Science Fiction eBook: The Sense of Paper|
|Release Date: 09-26-2006|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: Random House Publishing Group|
This eBook download is available in the following formats:
|Parent title||The Sense of Paper|
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|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.|
The Sense of Paper
Fragments of memory pierce her subconsciousness like shards of broken glass. Her body twitches convulsively in her sleep. Fear presses down on her chest, making it heave as she snatches for breath.
Bang. The cellar door is kicked in on its rusting hinges. A sweaty soldier lumbers toward her in the flickering torchlight. Behind him, others leer at her. His uneven teeth smirk beneath a wiry moustache as his left hand unzips his urine-stained trousers. A scream wells in her throat. Before she can utter a sound, his fat fingers, stinking of nicotine, are clamped across her mouth. His other hand drags her by her hair up the stone steps, scuffing her knees on every one.
Bang. Out in the pale moonlight, grubby hands reach for her, rending her clothing as she flails and twists away. A boot slams into her stomach, driving the air from her lungs. All she can smell is sweat, smoke, and semen. Fear gives her strength. Struggling in their grasp, she shouts: "Novinar! Zurnalista! Journalist!" Their laughter fills the spaces in her head as they manhandle her roughly toward a clearing in the woods. Throwing her facedown in the dirt, they press forward eagerly, one by one.
Bang. She is up on her feet somehow and running hard. Running for her life. Gasping for breath through torn, bleeding lips. Clawing at the red earth with broken fingernails as she slips. Heading for the road in the dark.
Bang. The truck appears from nowhere in the darkness. The roar of its horn stuns her as she whirls to face the sudden brutal glare of its headlights bearing down on her.
Bang. Inconceivable, searing pain. The sensation of flying effortlessl