Friday, September 21, 2012

An Indian Commentator Book Review


Coming soon
Image Courtesy: Google
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.
Image Courtesy: Google
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 troubled teens, but his story soon becomes more complicated than Wendy could have imagined.
In a novel that challenges as much as it thrills, filled with the astonishing tension and unseen suburban machinations that have become Coben’s trademark, Caught tells the story of a missing girl, the community stunned by her loss, the predator who may have taken her, and the reporter who suddenly realizes she can’t trust her own instincts about this case—or the motives of the people around her.

(Courtesy: Harlan Coben. Published with special permission from the author.)

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

The Werewolf

Image Courtesy: Google
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,
Image Courtesy: Google

“I am a werewolf, you must run away,
Or your life’s road
Will take the hell’s way.
I beseech you.”
“I know you and you know me.
My heart’s strings sing for you in glee.
I am yours, give me hell,
If that price could buy peace for me.”

The woman’s words rang in the air,
With the blinking stars’ above,
And the fate so near.
The werewolf moved closer,
His arms bound around her hip.
In a tragic love’s final desire,
He kissed her on her lips,
And his fangs tore into her neck,
With the heat of her blood in his mouth,
And the shiver of her flesh in his arms,
He howled at the moon,
The cruel observer in the heavens.
Deathless the night witnessed,
Hopeless the heavens observed,
The deathless werewolf groaning in pain,
And the stars of his tears-
Glowing in hell.
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