here ItOpens - Books by Author starting with O

 
 
Because It Is Bitter, and Because It Is My Heart
"Little Red" Garlock, sixteen years old, skull smashed soft as a rotted pumpkin and body dumped into
 
Bellefleur
t was many years ago in that dark, chaotic, unfathomable pool of time before Germaine's birth (nearl
 
Expensive People
I was a child murderer.
 
Middle Age
Is this fair? You leave your home in Salthill-on-Hudson on the muggy afternoon of July Fourth for
 
Middle Age
How death enters your life. A telephone ringing.
 
Them
One warm evening in August 1937 a girl in love stood before a mirror.
 
We Were the Mulvaneys
We were the Mulvaneys, remember us?
 
 
The Ionian Mission
Marriage was once represented as a field of battle rather than a bed of roses, and perhaps there are
 
The Mauritius Command
Captain Aubrey of the Royal Navy lived in a part of Hampshire well supplied with sea-officers, some
 
 
At Swim-Two-Birds
Having placed in my mouth sufficient bread for three minutes' chewing, I withdrew my powers of sensual perception and retired into the privacy of my mind, my eyes and face assuming a vacant and preoccupied expression.
 
 
Going After Cacciato
It was a bad time.
 
 
All in the Family
One year, when I was a boy--eleven, going on twelve--my father took me to Ireland. We went becaus
 
The Edge of Sadness
This story at no point becomes my own.
 
The Last Hurrah
It was early in August when Frank Skeffington decided--or rather, announced his decision, which ac
 
 
A Good Man Is Hard to Find
The grandmother didn't want to go to Florida. She wanted to visit some of her connections in east
 
Everything That Rises Must Converge
Her doctor had told Julian's mother that she must lose twenty pounds on account of her blood press
 
The Violent Bear It Away
Francis Marion Tarwater's uncle had been dead for only half a day when the boy got too drunk to fini
 
The Violent Bear It Away
Francis Marion Tarwater's uncle had been dead for only half a day when the boy got too drunk to fi
 
Wise Blood
Hazel Motes sat at a forward angle on the green plush train seat, looking one minute at the window
 
 
A Rage to Live
It rained lightly on the morning of Wednesday, July 4, 1917, and the Festival Committee met to dec
 
Appointment in Samarra
Our story opens in the mind of Luther L. (L for LeRoy) Fliegler, who is lying in his bed, not thin
 
Elizabeth Appleton
The house was at the corner of Harvard Road and Bucknell Street, set back on two sides from the un
 
From the Terrace
There are alive today hundreds of men who saw Samuel Eaton, who accepted wages from him, envied
 
Ourselves to Know
As a boy and until I was sixteen I spent a large part of every summer at my grandfather's house in
 
Sermons and Soda-Water
I know of no quiet quite like that of a men's club at about half past nine on a summer Sunday even
 
Sermons and Soda-Water
To those who knew the bride and the groom, the marriage of Bobbie Hammersmith and Pete McCrea was
 
Sermons and Soda-Water
When I was first starting out in New York I wrote quite a few obituaries of men who were presumabl
 
Ten North Frederick
Edith Chapin was alone in her sewing room on the third floor of the house at Number 10 Frederick S
 
The Lockwood Concern
On Sunday afternoons people would drive out to have a look at George Lockwood's wall, and sometime
 
 
Why I Wake Early
Hello, sun in my face.
Michael Ondaatje at Tulane 2010
 
The English Patient
She stands up in the garden where she has been working and looks into the distance.
 
 
Silverwing
Skimming over the banks of the stream, Shade heard the beetle warming up its wings.
 
Sunwing
Wings trimmed tight, Shade sailed through the forest.
 
The Devil's Cure
Lying wasted in the quarantine room of the prison infirmary, Frank Hayworth had refused all medicati
E. Phillips Oppenheim
 
The Great Impersonation
The trouble from which great events were to come began when Everard Dominey, who had been fighting h
 
The Pawns Count
The usual little crowd was waiting in the lobby of a fashionable <br />London restaurant a few minutes b
 
 
The Scarlet Pimpernel
A surging, seething, murmuring crowd of beings that are human only in name, for to the eye and ear
George Orwell press photo
 
1984
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.
 
Animal Farm
Mr. Jones, of the Manor Farm, had locked the hen-houses for the night, but was too drunk to remember to shut the pop-holes.
 
Coming Up for Air
The idea really came to me the day I got my new false teeth.
 
England Your England
As I write, highly civilized human beings are flying overhead, trying to kill me.
 
Keep the Aspidistra Flying
The clock struck half past two. In the little office at the back of Mr. McKechnie's bookshop, Gordo
Ouida (Maria Louise Ramé)
 
Under Two Flags
"I don't say but what he's difficult to please with his Tops," said Mr. Rake, factotum to the Hon.
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