eBooks - Literature - Modern Fiction - Gail Godwin - Queen of the Underworld


Queen of the Underworld eBooks

by Gail Godwin


Queen of the Underworld - Adobe Reader PDF eBook

Queen of the Underworld ~~ Adobe Reader PDF eBook

Adobe Reader PDF eBook

Platforms
Windows 98SE+, Mac OS X+, Palm

Features
Advanced navigation, search, bookmarks, and multiple viewing options.

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Price: $17.95


Queen of the Underworld - Microsoft Reader eBook

Queen of the Underworld ~~ Microsoft Reader eBook

Microsoft Reader eBook

Platforms
Windows 98+, Tablet PC, Pocket PC 2003

Features
ClearType, advanced navigation, search, personal library, bookmarks, notes, and drawing.

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Price: $17.95


Queen of the Underworld - Mobipocket eBook

Queen of the Underworld ~~ Mobipocket eBook

Mobipocket eBook

Platforms
Windows PC, Palm, Pocket PC, eBookMan, SmartPhones, and more.

Features
Easy to install, Very Compatible, Touch-screen page turning, Bookmarks, Adjustable font size and color, Search.

Availability:
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Price: $17.95


Queen of the Underworld - Palm Reader eBook

Queen of the Underworld ~~ Palm Reader eBook

Palm Reader eBook

Platforms
All Palm & Pocket PC handheld devices plus all Windows and Macintosh computers.

Features
Advanced navigation, search, bookmarks, and powerful viewing features.

Availability:
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Price: $17.95


Queen of the Underworld Summary

Here at last is the eagerly awaited new novel from New York Times bestselling author Gail Godwin. Queen of the Underworld is sweeping and sultry literary fiction, featuring a memorable young heroine and engaging characters whose intimate dramas interconnect with hers.
In the summer of 1959, as Castro clamps down on Cuba and its first wave of exiles flees to the States to wait out what they hope to be his short-lived reign, Emma Gant, fresh out of college, begins her career as a reporter. Her fierce ambition and belief in herself are set against the stories swirling around her, both at the newspaper office and in her downtown Miami hotel, which is filling up with refugees.
Emma’s avid curiosity about life thrives amid the tropical charms and intrigues of Miami. While toiling at the news desk, she plans the fictional stories she will write in her spare time. She spends her nights getting to know the Cuban families in her hotel–and rendezvousing with her married lover, Paul Nightingale, owner of a private Miami Beach club.
As Emma experiences the historical events enveloping the city, she trains her perceptive eye on the people surrounding her: a newfound Cuban friend who joins the covert anti-Castro training brigade, a gambling racketeer who poses a grave threat to Paul, and a former madam, still in her twenties, who becomes both Emma’s obsession and her alter ego. Emma’s life, like a complicated dance that keeps sweeping her off her balance, is suddenly filled with divided loyalties, shady dealings, romantic and professional setbacks, and, throughout, her adamant determination to avoid “usurpation” by others and remain the protagonist of her own quest.


From the Hardcover edition.

1.

Now I had graduated on this bright June Saturday in 1959 and few were the obstacles left between me and my getaway train to Miami—obstacles that nevertheless must be cunningly surmounted.

“Emma, you ride in front with Earl,” said Mother, as expected. “I’ll sit in back and reminisce a little more about my time here in Paradise.”

“Oh?” challenged Earl. “What does that make the rest of your life, then, a comedown?”

“The rest of my life is still in progress,” Mother lightly countered, making room for herself among my college leftovers that were going back to the mountains with them. “Ask me again in thirty or forty years.”

We began the winding descent out of Chapel Hill as, seven years earlier, the three of us, with my mother’s new husband at the wheel, had begun another descent into a new life. Only this time, they would be dropping me off within the hour at the Seaboard Station in Raleigh. My journey as part of this family unit would soon be at an end. Happily, my train to Miami left at one fifteen, so a farewell lunch had been out of the question, a circumstance diminishing that much further the chance of a last-minute blowup with Earl.

But still I was on my guard, for already he was making those engorged throat noises that preceded a sermon. I did not dare glance back at Mother for fear of catching her eye. An exchanged look of sympathy or, God forbid, a mutual smirk might still explode everything sky-high, as it had done plenty of times before. My job was to look respectfully attentive without rising to his bait. I folded my hands in my lap and faced front, focusing on the road ahead. Windows on both sides were open to let in the breeze, and the capricious little whomp-whomps of hot air provided a divertimento against Earl’s opening sally and helped me keep my own counsel.




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