Download E-books The Map of Lost Memories: A Novel PDF
By Kim Fay
2013 Edgar Award Finalist for top First Novel by means of an American Author
Praise for The Map of misplaced Memories
"In The Map of misplaced thoughts, Kim Fay attracts us right into a universe as unique, severe, and traditionally precise because the old artifacts her unforgettable heroine seeks. it is a deliciously unforeseen trip: Indiana Jones meets Somerset Maugham meets Marguerite Duras."--Jennifer Cody Epstein, writer of The Painter from Shanghai
"A exciting mixture of experience and private discovery . . . [Kim] Fay crafts an problematic page-turner that may hold readers breathless and guessing."--Publishers Weekly
"A ripping strong story . . . mysterious Asian destinations . . . a pushed younger American heroine . . . an period not remembered yet light to romantic mind's eye . . . The Map of misplaced Memories pulls the parts jointly in a narrative that intrigues and rewards."--Lincoln magazine Star
"Fay's outstanding novel has every thing nice historical-adventure fiction should--a strikingly unique environment, exhilarating plot twists, and a near-impossible quest."--Booklist (starred review)
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Additional info for The Map of Lost Memories: A Novel
What if I pass over the necessity to hold a gun hidden underneath my pillow? i've got 4 bodyguards, Irene. 4 thugs whose sole task is to guard me from being abducted or worse. What the hell type of lifestyles is that for a guy to have grown acquainted with? ” Irene was once shocked to discover her techniques drifting to her first boyfriend, a ruddy collage pupil who had sprinted round athletic fields and burdened it with success. after which there were the getting older artwork critic whilst she used to be twenty-three, together with his sea captain mustache and predictable makes an attempt to seduce her with mah-jongg and chop suey. Even her short affairs, whilst the solitude of her middle had gotten the easiest of her, had by no means stirred this sort of lightning-quick emotion inside of her. “You’re asking the inaccurate individual. ” She sat backpedal. “I’m a temple robber, consider? ” He smiled. “So you are saying. ” “Stranger nonetheless, so you’ve been advised. i ponder, why might Mr. Simms let you know that approximately me? And why might he provide me your identify except he rather believed i might desire anything from you? what sort of support may perhaps i would like? ” “I understand Shanghai well,” Marc acknowledged. “Information is my stock-in-trade. possibly there’s whatever you want to find out about town. Or …” Irene’s hand used to be resting at the desk. He reached out with the lightest of touches, as though he used to be ensuring she used to be actual. “Maybe if you happen to inform me approximately Henry and also you, inform me the way you ended up right here, i will determine it out. ” She gazed round. The bartender used to be dozing on a stool. within an orbit of smoke, the band individuals persevered to puff on their cigarettes. After being discarded in Seattle, after being rejected by means of Simone and disapproved of by way of Anne, Irene was once longing for this recognition Marc was once giving her. “Mr. Simms by no means saved secrets and techniques from me,” she stated. “Even while i used to be younger, I knew concerning the hidden rooms in his manor. I knew how he bought the items in them. I knew concerning the clandestine bargains and the crates arriving in the midst of the evening. His belief intended every thing to me. such a lot of humans inspiration it used to be their correct to inform me what was once applicable for a lady with out a mom. I hated it. Irene, that's not applicable! yet Mr. Simms, he didn’t think about me as a baby, and by the point I turned an grownup, I couldn’t think my lifestyles with out him. ” The reminiscence of Mr. Simms’s swift deterioration within the month ahead of she left Seattle approximately introduced tears to her eyes. Softly, she stated, “I can’t think what it’s going to be like …” “Can’t think what what’s going to be like? ” open air, the rain pounded as though it have been being dragged down by means of an underground strength. Wind blew leaden raindrops via a damaged window, and the typhoon was once chilly, metal within the air. Candlelight trembled at the partitions. The bartender wound the gramophone, as though Rhapsody in Blue might even out the ragged pace of the typhoon. retaining her eyes at the desk, Irene became her palm upward, in order that her fingertips brushed Marc’s. He didn't draw back. Quietly, as though it mattered to him that they weren't overheard, he requested, “Why did he take such an curiosity in you?