Did you know that Carlos Ruiz Zafon has a new book? It is entitled "The Angel game" and will be released on the 17th of April. If only one bit of talent and knowledge have The old-style wind shadow, it is worth reading, reservadlo Now. For ye mouth, I included an excerpt from the book, rescued from the web World supplement. This promises ...
(placed anywhere it is prohibited to reproduce, if necessary, a mail sabiaisque@gmail.com enough to remove it from this website)
Act One: 'City of the Damned'
Intrigue, romance and tragedy. David Martin, a young man who lives to write mystery novels under a pseudonym, he receives an offer from a foreign publisher. From there he becomes involved in a plot hidden ambitions and crimes that lead the reader to an unexpected end and exultant.
That afternoon, hidden under her clothes so that my father did not see him, I took my new friend home. That was a fall of rain and days of lead during that read "Great Expectations" about nine times in a row, partly because he had another hand to read and partly because they thought that there might be a better one, and began to suspect that Don Carlos had written just for me. Soon I had the firm belief that wanted nothing in life to learn to do what he did that as Mr Dickens.
One morning I woke up suddenly shaken by my father, who returned to work early. His eyes were bloodshot and his breath smelled of liquor. He looked terrified, and he felt with the fingers bare bulb hanging from a cable.
"It's hot.
and I stared angrily threw the lamp against the wall. Exploded into a thousand pieces of glass fell on me face, but I dared not remove them.
- Where is it? - Said my father, cold and calm voice. I shook, trembling.
- Where is that fucking book?
I shook again. In the darkness just saw the blow coming. Felt who lost his sight and I fell out of bed, with blood on his mouth and an intense burning pain as white fire behind the lips. To tilt the head, I saw what I thought were pieces of a couple of broken teeth on the floor. The hand of my father grabbed me by the neck and lifted me.
- Where?
"Father, please ...
threw me face to the wall with all his might and hit in the head made me lose balance and collapsing like a sack of bones. I crawled into a corner and stayed there, curled up like a ball, watching my father opened the closet and pulled out the four pieces I had and threw them into the ground. Recorded drawers and chests without encountering the book until, exhausted, back to me. I closed my eyes and cringed against the wall, expecting another blow that never came. I opened my eyes and saw that my father was sitting on the bed, choking and crying shame. When she saw him looking, ran down the stairs. I heard the echo of their steps away in the silence of dawn, and only when I knew I was away I crawled into bed and pulled the book from its hiding place under the mattress. I dressed and with the novel under his arm, went out into the street.
A canvas of haze descended on Santa Ana street when I reached the door of the bookstore. The bookseller and his son lived on the first floor of the building. I knew six in the morning there were hours to call home for anyone, but my only thought at that time was to save that book, and I was certain that if my father was to return home as to shatter all the rage that was in his blood. I rang the bell and waited. I had to insist two or three times until I heard the balcony door open and saw the old Sempere, in a bathrobe and slippers, showed up and looked at me astonished. Half a minute later came down to open up and as soon as I saw his face all trace of anger evaporated. He knelt before me and held me by the arms.
- God! Are you okay? Who has done this?
-No. I crashed.
I handed him the book.
"I came to return it, I do not want to get away with it ... Sempere
looked at me without saying anything. I picked her up and I went to the floor. His son, a boy of 12 years so shy that I do not remember having ever heard his voice, had awakened to hear his father out and looked at the top of the landing. Seeing the blood on my face looked at him, startled.
"Call Dr. Campos.
The boy nodded and ran to the phone. I heard him speak and found he was not dumb. Between the two I settled into a dining chair and I cleaned the blood from wounds awaiting the arrival of the doctor.
- Are not you going to say who did this to you? Do not open her mouth. Sempere not know where she lived and would not give him ideas.
- Was it your father?
I looked away.
-No. I crashed.
Dr. Campos, who lived four or five portals there, arrived in five minutes. He examined me from head to foot, feeling the bruises and cuts heal so gently as he could. It was clear that his eyes were burning with indignation, but said nothing.
"No fractures, although a few bruises and sore last few days. These two teeth will be removed. They are pieces missing and no risk of infection.
When the doctor left, Sempere prepared me a glass of warm milk with cocoa and watched me drink, smiling.
"All this to save 'Great Expectations', eh? I shrugged. Father and son looked at each other with a knowing smile.
"The next time you save a workbook, save it for real, do not play in life. Tell me and I'll take you to a secret place where the books never die and nobody can destroy.
I looked at them, puzzled.
- What place is that? Sempere
winked and gave me that mysterious smile that seemed stolen from a serial of Don Alejandro Dumas and they said, was a family brand.
"All in good time, my friend. All in good time.
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