Showing posts from September, 2012

An Indian Commentator Book Review

Coming soon Caught By: Haralan Coben “Scandal. Suspicion. Murder. It’s child’s play…” Coming soon on The Indian Commentator, a book review of Harlan Coben’s novel Caught. Here is a bird’s eye view on the book, from the author’s website: 17 year-old Haley McWaid is a good girl, the pride of her suburban New Jersey family, captain of the lacrosse team, headed off to college next year with all the hopes and dreams her doting parents can pin on her. Which is why, when her mother wakes one morning to find that Haley never came home the night before, and three months quickly pass without word from the girl, the community assumes the worst. Wendy Tynes is a reporter on a mission, to identify and bring down sexual predators via elaborate—and nationally televised—sting operations. Working with local police on her news program Caught in the Act, Wendy and her team have publicly shamed dozens of men by the time she encounters her latest target. Dan Mercer is a social worker known as a friend to troubl…

The Werewolf

He lurked in the night,
Under the moon’s gleaming face. He hid himself not, though, Instead came out in the moonlight. The signifier of unknown terror, Fierce and virile, His chest rising and falling like a drum, Belly flat like drum, Eyes made of amber and ruby serum. His life once was human, Then his blood took offence with nature, In the wild it ran freely, And his body took its turn surely, Fangs, fur and his head too, Grew into a wolf’s.
A song rose from his heart, at times, In blood’s significant rhythm, And there was in his eyes, A gleam and a shadow. The gleam was love, The shadow was a woman.
Her hairs floated in the night air, Penetrating the chill of solemn despair. The werewolf howled; Jumped in front of her. He neither touched her, Nor his fangs tore her skin. His eyes gleamed more, Shading the full moon in the cold. She looked at him in the eyes. Her eyes too shared the golden gleam, And he growled again,
“I am a werewolf, you must run away, Or your life’s road Will take the hell’s way. I beseech y…