Sports

Bobbing and weaving across the ever-shifting canvas of a changing country, The Slip is an audacious, daring look at sex and race in America that builds to an unforgettable collision in the center of the ring.

Paris, 1924. The Olympics. Lucy Morton, an ambitious Blackpool swimmer waits to find out if she’s won against her American rival. If she has, she’ll be the first British woman to win Gold in an individual event. If she has, it’ll upset the apple cart. The Americans have been sweeping the boards and, at 26, she’s a veteran in the sport. If she has, it’ll be despite the car accident she was in just 48 hours before, which saw her lose five teeth, crack a rib and be out cold until the morning of the biggest race of her life.

Holly McGuire steht ihre gesamte Highschool-Zeit im Schatten ihres Zwillingsbruders und Eishockeystar Ethan. So auch auf der Feier zu ihrem achtzehnten Geburtstag bei dem sie lediglich eine Nebenrolle spielt. Nur einer schenkt ihr Beachtung, der beste Freund ihres Bruders und ihr heimlicher Crush Callen Followville. Holly schwebt im siebten Himmel und lässt sich auf ein paar unvergessliche Stunden mit dem charmanten Sportler ein.

Frank Ewert's disarming collection of short fiction starts off with an inside view of small-time, big identity Canadian hockey, its meaning, its plays, its lingo. But each story's distinct voice quickly reveals universal themes of rivalry, calling, discipline, infatuation, and national dignity that invite every reader to be more than a spectator. The characters have keen direction and surprising priorities that open this unknown world to the uninitiated.

The Baseball Code is a story about the love of the game; about the smell of a well-oiled glove; about the feel of the handle of the bat as you turn it in your hands; about running across an expanse of green grass on a hot summer afternoon, gazing up at the spinning red seams of a white baseball as it cuts its arc against a bright blue sky, timing your stride and the reach of your arm so perfectly that the ball drops into your mitt like a plum ripe from a tree.