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Darkest Fear: A Myron Bolitar Novel
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Darkest Fear: A Myron Bolitar Novel [Format Kindle]

Harlan Coben
4.0 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (4 commentaires client)

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Descriptions du produit

Myron Bolitar's father's recent heart attack brings Myron smack into a midlife encounter with issues of adulthood and mortality. And if that's not enough to turn his life upside down, the reappearance of his first serious girlfriend is. The basketball star turned sports agent, who does a little detecting when business is slow, is saddened by the news that Emily Downing's 13-year-old son is dying and desperately needs a bone marrow transplant; even if she did leave him for the man who destroyed his basketball career, he wouldn't wish tsuris like that on anyone. And he's not at all interested in getting involved with Emily again, not even to track down the one mysterious donor who may be able to save the boy. But when Myron learns that Jeremy Downing is his own son, conceived the night before Emily and Greg Downing married, he embarks on a search for someone who disappeared a lifetime ago. And what he finds leads him to a powerful family determined to keep an old secret, a disgraced reporter who may have plagiarized a novel to create a serial killer, a very interested FBI agent, and a missing child.

This is the seventh outing in a series that's been gaining in popularity since Bolitar's first appearance, in Harlan Coben's Deal Breaker. Myron's a bit of a baby, but he's not afraid to get rough when the situation calls for it, he's eminently likable, and his heart's in the right place. The fireworks are supplied by his friend and partner, Win, who really deserves a series of his own, and Esperanza, the lesbian wrestler-lawyer who has finally talked Myron into making her a partner in the business. Like Coben's other Bolitar novels, she's worth every penny. --Jane Adams


An hour before his world exploded like a ripe tomato under a stiletto heel, Myron bit into a fresh pastry that tasted suspiciously like a urinal cake.

"Well?" Mom prompted.

Myron battled his throat, won a costly victory, swallowed. "Not bad."

Mom shook her head, disappointed.


"I'm a lawyer," Mom said. "You'd think I'd have raised a better liar."

"You did the best you could," Myron said.

She shrugged and waved a hand at the, uh, pastry. "It's my first time baking, bubbe. It's okay to tell me the truth."

"It's like biting into a urinal cake," Myron said.

"A what?"

"In men's public bathrooms. In the urinals. They put them there for the smell or something."

"And you eat them?"


"Is that why your father takes so long in there? He's having a little Tastykake? And here I thought his prostate was acting up."

"I'm joking, Mom."

She smiled through blue eyes tinged with a red that Visine could never hope to get out, the red you can only get through slow, steady tears. Normally Mom was heavily into histrionics. Slow, steady tears were not her style. "So am I, Mr. Smarty Pants. You think you're the only one in this family with a sense of humor?"

Myron said nothing. He looked down at the, uh, pastry, fearing or perhaps hoping it might crawl away. In the thirty-plus years his mother had lived in this house, she had never baked -- not from a recipe, not from scratch, not even from one of those Pillsbury morning croissant thingies that came in small mailing tubes. She could barely boil water without strict instructions and pretty much never cooked, though she could whip up a mean Celeste frozen pizza in the microwave, her agile fingers dancing across the numerical keypad in the vein of Nureyev at Lincoln Center. No, in the Bolitar household, the kitchen was more a gathering place -- a Family Room Lite, if you will -- than anything related to even the basest of the culinary arts. The round table held magazines and catalogs and congealing white boxes of Chinese takeout. The stovetop saw less action than a Merchant-Ivory production. The oven was a prop, strictly for show, like a politician's Bible.

Something was definitely amiss.

They were sitting in the living room with the dated pseudo-leather white modular couch and aqua-tinged rug whose shagginess reminded Myron of a toilet-seat cover. Grown-up Greg Brady. Myron kept stealing glances out the picture window at the For Sale sign in the front yard as though it were a spaceship that had just landed and something sinister was about to step out.

"Where's Dad?"

Mom gave a weary wave toward the door. "He's in the basement."

"In my room?"

"Your old room, yes. You moved out, remember?"

He did -- at the tender age of thirty-four no less. Childcare experts would salivate and tsk-tsk over that one -- the prodigal son choosing to remain in his split-level cocoon long after the deemed appropriate deadline for the butterfly to break free. But Myron might argue the opposite. He might bring up the fact that for generations and in most cultures, offspring lived in the familial home until a ripe old age, that adopting such a philosophy could indeed be a societal boom, helping people stay rooted to something tangible in this era of the disintegrating nuclear family. Or, if that rationale didn't float your boat, Myron could try another. He had a million.

But the truth of the matter was far simpler: He liked hanging out in the burbs with Mom and Dad -- even if confessing such a sentiment was about as hip as an Air Supply eight track.

"So what's going on?" he asked.

"Your father doesn't know you're here yet," she said. "He thinks you're not coming for another hour."

Myron nodded, puzzled. "What's he doing in the basement?"

"He bought a computer. Your father plays with it down there."


"My point exactly. The man can't change a lightbulb without a manual -- all of a sudden he's Bill Gates. Always on the nest."

"The Net," Myron corrected.

"The what?"

"It's called the Net, Mom."

"I thought it was nest. The bird's nest or something."

"No, it's Net."

"Are you sure? I know there's a bird in there somewhere."

"The Web maybe," Myron tried. "Like with a spider."

She snapped her fingers. "That's it. Anyway your father is on there all the time, weaving the Web or whatever. He chats with people, Myron. That's what he tells me. He chats with complete strangers. Like he used to do with the CB radio, remember?"

Myron remembered. Circa 1976. Jewish Dads in the suburbs checking for "smokeys" on the way to the delicatessen. Mighty convoy of Cadillac Sevilles. Ten-four, good buddy.

"And that's not all," she went on. "He's typing his memoirs. A man who can't scribble down a grocery list without consulting Strunk and White suddenly thinks he's an ex-president."

They were selling the house. Myron still could not believe it. His eyes wandered about the overly familiar surroundings, his gaze getting snagged on the photographs running up the stairwell. He saw his family mature via fashion -- the skirts and sideburns lengthening and shortening, the quasi-hippie fringes and suede and tie-dyes, the leisure suits and bell-bottoms, the frilly tuxedos that would be too tacky for a Vegas casino -- the years flying by frame by frame like one of those depressing life insurance commercials. He spotted the poses from his basketball days -- a sixth-grade suburban-league foul shot, an eighth-grade drive to the hoop, a high school slam dunk -- the row ending with Sports Illustrated cover shots, two from his days at Duke and one with his leg in a cast and a large-fonted IS HE FINISHED? emblazoned across his knee-cast image (the answer in the mind's eye being an equally large-fonted YES!).

"So what's wrong?" he asked.

"I didn't say anything was wrong."

Myron shook his head, disappointed. "And you a lawyer."

"Setting a bad example?"

"It's no wonder I never ran for higher office."

She folded her hands on her lap. "We need to chat."

Myron didn't like the tone.

"But not here," she added. "Let's take a walk around the block."

Myron nodded and they rose. Before they reached the door, his cell phone rang. Myron snatched it up with a speed that would have made Wyatt Earp step back. He put the phone to his ear and cleared his throat.

"MB SportsReps," he said, silky-smooth, professional-like. "This is Myron Bolitar speaking."

"Nice phone voice," Esperanza said. "You sound like Billy Dee ordering two Colt 45s."

Esperanza Diaz was his longtime assistant and now sports-agent partner at MB SportsReps (M for Myron, the B for Bolitar -- for those keeping score).

"I was hoping you were Lamar," he said.

"He hasn't called yet?"


He could almost see Esperanza frown. "We're in deep doo-doo here," she said.

"We're not in deep doo-doo. We're just sucking a little wind, that's all."

"Sucking a little wind," Esperanza repeated. "Like Pavarotti running the Boston Marathon."

"Good one," Myron said.


Lamar Richardson was a power-hitting Golden Glove shortstop who'd just become a free agent -- "free agent" being a phrase agents whisper in the same way a mufti might whisper "Praise Allah." Lamar was shopping for new representation and had whittled his final list down to three agencies: two supersized conglomerates with enough office space to house a Price Club and the aforementioned pimple-on-the-buttocks but oh-so-personal MB SportsReps. Go, pimple-butt!

Myron watched his mother standing by the door. He switched ears and said, "Anything else?"

"You'll never guess who called," Esperanza said.

"Elle and Claudia demanding another menage a trois?"

"Oooo, close."

She would never just tell him. With his friends, everything was a TV game show. "How about a hint?" he said.

"One of your ex-lovers."

He felt a jolt. "Jessica."

Esperanza made a buzzing noise. "Sorry, wrong bitch."

Myron was puzzled. He'd only had two long-term relationships in his life: Jessica on and off for the past thirteen years (now very off). And before that, well, you'd have to go back to...

"Emily Downing?"

Esperanza made a ding-ding noise.

A sudden image pierced his heart like a straight-blade. He saw Emily sitting on that threadbare couch in the frat basement, smiling that smile at him, her legs bent and tucked under her, wearing his high school varsity jacket that was several sizes too big, her gesturing hands slipping down and disappearing into the sleeves.

His mouth went dry. "What did she want?"

"Don't know. But she said that she simply had to talk to you. She's very breathy, you know. Like everything she says is a double entendre."

With Emily, everything was.

"She good in the sack?" Esperanza asked.

Being an overly attractive bisexual, Esperanza viewed everyone as a potential sex partner. Myron wondered what that must be like, to have and thus weigh so many options, and then he decided to leave that road untraveled. Wise man.

"What did Emily say exactly?" Myron said.

"Nothing specific. She j...

Détails sur le produit

  • Format : Format Kindle
  • Taille du fichier : 1234 KB
  • Nombre de pages de l'édition imprimée : 370 pages
  • Pagination - ISBN de l'édition imprimée de référence : 0440246202
  • Editeur : Dell (12 novembre 2008)
  • Vendu par : Amazon Media EU S.à r.l.
  • Langue : Anglais
  • ASIN: B000SEGG7E
  • Synthèse vocale : Non activée
  • X-Ray :
  • Moyenne des commentaires client : 4.0 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (4 commentaires client)
  • Classement des meilleures ventes d'Amazon: n°44.612 dans la Boutique Kindle (Voir le Top 100 dans la Boutique Kindle)
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En savoir plus sur l'auteur

Né en 1962, Harlan Coben vit dans le New Jersey avec sa femme et leurs quatre enfants. Diplômé en sciences politiques du Amherst College, il a travaillé dans l'industrie du voyage avant de se consacrer à l'écriture.

Depuis ses débuts en 1995, la critique n'a cessé de l'acclamer. Il est notamment le premier auteur à avoir reçu le Edgar Award, le Shamus Award et le Anthony Award, les trois prix majeurs de la littérature à suspense aux États-Unis. Traduits dans une quarantaine de langues, ses romans occupent les têtes de listes de best-sellers dans le monde entier.

Le premier de ses romans traduit en France, Ne le dis à personne (Belfond, 2002) - prix du polar des lectrices de Elle en 2003 - a obtenu d'emblée un énorme succès auprès du public et de la critique. Succès confirmé avec : Disparu à jamais (2003), Une chance de trop(2004), Juste un regard (2005), Innocent (2006), Promets-moi (2007), Dans les bois (2008), Sans un mot (2009), Sans laisser d'adresse (2010) et Sans un adieu (2010), son premier roman écrit à vingt-cinq ans à peine.

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Commentaires en ligne 

4.0 étoiles sur 5
4.0 étoiles sur 5
Commentaires client les plus utiles
4 internautes sur 4 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
3.0 étoiles sur 5 épatant 21 octobre 2004
Par batman VOIX VINE
Format:Poche|Achat authentifié par Amazon
Dans ce roman on retrouve bien sûr Myron, Win, et Esperanza. Tous égaux à eux-mêmes, dans la droite lignée de la série. Les réparties de Myron sont toujours aussi succulentes. C'est une forme d'humour si particulière qu'on se demande ce qu'il peut en rester après traduction ?
L'histoire elle-même nous emmène à la recherche d'un homme qui a disparu depuis des années, afin qu'il puisse être donneur pour une greffe de moelle osseuse. Des personnages du passé de Myron, qu'on a déjà croisé dans les épisodes précédents de la série, occupent les seconds rôles : Emily et Greg Downing.
Un bon « Myron Bolitar », qui se lit avec plaisir. Myron se livre par moment à des analyses psychologiques un peu longuettes, avec Win ( !!!), mais c'est suffisamment bien intégré au fil de l'action pour ne pas gêner. Parfait pour une longue soirée d'hiver.
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4.0 étoiles sur 5 Humour et bon suspens 20 septembre 2013
Par laurent
Format:Poche|Achat authentifié par Amazon
Myron Bolitar a deux métiers: agent sportif et détective monomaniaque. Dans cet opus, son ex-petite amie requiert ses services pour retrouver un donneur de moelle osseuse qui seul permettra de sauver son fils.
Harban Coben dévoile au travers de chaque nouveau roman un nouveau pan de la vie de son personnage principal, lui donnant une nouvelle densité et le faisant évoluer vers une personnalité plus complexe. L'intrigue est bien ficelée, le rythme soutenu et le final intéressant.
Un bon roman.
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5.0 étoiles sur 5 Great read... I am hooked! 9 juillet 2010
Format:Poche|Achat authentifié par Amazon
Seventh volume of the Myron Bolitar series.

Myron, Win and Esperanza are still going strong and the plots are even more twisted and thrilling than before. As with the others in the series, this book is witty and very entertaining.

Then there is a shocker... Myron had a brother??!!?? The brother was shot??!!?? I want to know more about that (not in this book though, I'm sad to say). Oh well, one more incentive to keep on reading the series.
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1 internautes sur 8 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
4.0 étoiles sur 5 absolument genial ! 15 août 2003
Par Un client
Comme la plupart des romans d'Harlan Coben celui-ci est à nouveau génial ! Le seul incovénient comprendre l'anglais ! Alors lecteurs mettez-vous a l'anglais !!!
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Commentaires client les plus utiles sur (beta) 4.3 étoiles sur 5  236 commentaires
63 internautes sur 68 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Grabs the heart from page ONE! 14 juin 2001
Par K. Corn - Publié sur
I noticed that many of the other reviewers here have read other books by the author, Harlan Coben. I have not so I can't compare this one to others by Coben. What I CAN say, however, is that this book held my interest from the start, containing believable personalities, a gripping plot and plenty of unforeseen twists. When an ex-girlfriend pops up unexpectedly in Myron Bolitar's life, he is far from first. Then she reveals a secret that rocks his soul to the core and the story never drops its pace from then on. Coben writes as though he were in his characters' shoes and as if he truly sees (and understands) the world from their eyes. I consider it a rare pleasure when I find a book that is so far above the usual, stereotypical, rather average suspense story. This one won't dissappoint you!
32 internautes sur 33 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
3.0 étoiles sur 5 Anti-climactic after a terrific start 28 octobre 2003
Par binnsie - Publié sur
Myron Bolitar, despite the imaginative Dickensian name, is a former US basketball player and now a top sports agent. He has a settled personal and business life and things are going along just fine on a day-to-day basis. However, a meeting with former girl friend, Emily, of some 14 years before is to change his life in the blink of an eye. She reveals that Myron is the father of her 13-year-old son and that she has now divorced her husband who was assumed by all, himself included, to be the father. That the ex also happened to be a national basketball hero and was the very person who literally crippled Myron all those years ago in his first professional game adds to the colourful background to the story. The young son has been diagnosed with the fatal disease Fanconi anaemia, a chromosome instability syndrome with progressive bone marrow failure and an increased risk of cancers, for which the only cure is a bone marrow transplant. The national bone marrow register has three potential matches, two of whom are eliminated due to non-compatibility after further screening. The third just cannot be found and appears to have vanished into thin air.
Coben has by now, after about the first four chapters, built an excellent platform for what should be an enthralling story as the search for the potential bone marrow donor begins. At this point "Darkest Faer" has a 5 star Amazon book review rating. Unfortunately the story line becomes increasingly complex and stretches credibility. Serial killers, the FBI, recluse super-rich families and a fictitious murder novel become entwined as Myron uncovers mystery after mystery and comes face to face with thugs, evil doers, and treads on the toes of the authorities. The plot becomes harder to follow with the many tangential issues introduced. What should be a gradual build up of tension becomes a disappointment as the story finally reaches its conclusion. Sorry, but three stars is the best rating for "Darkest Fear".
63 internautes sur 71 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 JACKPOT-Harlan Coben's Best Ever! 23 septembre 2000
Par Joymarie - Publié sur
Format:Relié|Achat authentifié par Amazon
At the end of this novel, Harlan Coben says: "This book is a work of fiction. That means I make stuff up." For the first time, I disagree with him. I have read every one of his seven novels, and he doesn't just make things up - he uses his magic pen to pull rabbits out of hats, Aces from his sleeve, bouquets and doves out of and back to nowhere, and a few ropes tricks for good measure. He is a Master Magician---never ceasing to surprise and amaze--a grand mixture of tears and laughter, suspense and release, yet provocative and insightful.
This review does not concern what the book is about, but is rather ABOUT THE BOOK. It is a roller coaster ride - Harlan takes you up the slow grade to the top of the rise and sends you hurtling down full speed; around curves, over the top, through the loops and then starts the long slow climb again. Hang on!! His characters are perfection: Myron Bolitar: hard as nails yet soft as a marshmallow - intuitive, intelligent, analytical, sweet and loving, cute and cuddly, human and feeling - you name it: that's Myron-- but don't underestimate him, that mind of his never stops working. Esperanza: Myron's sidekick, friend, advisor - beautiful, intelligent and ever faithful! Windsor Lock-Horne the Third: A devoted friend, almost unfeeling, cold and calculating in every way except where Myron and Esperanza are concerned. Aptly named - you really wouldn't want to lock horns with him!!! The quick wit and spontaneous interaction of these three will keep you reeling as Harlan spins his web of intrigue and mystery. But read his books and see for yourself.
According to his answer to my e-mail, this talented author will be giving Myron and Company a rest for a "coupla years" (but he assures me they will return!) In the meantime he is at work on a 'stand-alone" novel called TELL NO ONE, with a new cast of characters. My advice is to start with his first novel and watch the characters grow right before your eyes(so to speak. And wait till you meet BigCyndi! But that's another story!Enjoy as you have never enjoyed before...I did.
My hope is that Harlan Coben keeps "making stuff up" because it sure is the right stuff.
16 internautes sur 17 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
4.0 étoiles sur 5 Strong 4 1/2 stars! 28 juillet 2000
Par Shine Chen - Publié sur
Harlan Coben has to be my favorite authors. He writes with wit that other authors can seldom match. And yet when needed, he comes out with a serious side with Myron often pondering the moral issues of his life and decisions. Harlan leaves me laughing with my stomach aching and the next minute tearing up and reaching for the Kleenex. Darkest Fear is a fast-paced book with Myron fighting against time trying to find a donor for the son he never knew he had. Many twists and turns that'll keep you up through the night till the last page. The character of Emily, Myron's ex-girlfriend and mother of their child is slightly annoying in her handling of the situation.Jeremy's acceptance at the end of both his fathers seemed very mature for his age. I don't know if I would've been able to accept it that easily. However, I appreciated the role Myron's parents played in the book about unconditional love between parents and child.This would have been a five star but I was disappointed that my favorite, the WASPY Win Lockwood, didn't play a big a part as he usually does with his deadpanning humor and "killer" moves which Mryon finds disturbingly not bothering him as much as it did before. Another one of Myron's moral complexities he ponders over many times: Does the end justify the means? Not Harlan's best but still great and better than most of his fellow mystery writers. Can't wait for the next one!
8 internautes sur 8 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 "Honey?" Remember the time . . . ? 18 septembre 2005
Par Larry Scantlebury - Publié sur
I have to admit there's something very 'catchy' about Coben and Myron Bolitar. Myron certainly is the antithesis of the Ian Fleming characters. You just don't get that feeling of panache and savoir faire. Ditto Spenser and Elvis Cole. But you do get an apprecaition that he's tough when he ought to be and sees things through. And, along with that, he has Esperanza (isn't that a take off on 'esperanto,' the mingling of all forms of communication?) as his secretary-friend-advisor, and the stone cold killer thank-goodness-he's-on'your-side, Windsor Lockhorn III. Quite an amalgamation of characters.

Here Myron is approached by the girl that broke his heart (don't we alll have someone who did that?) and he reacts as I believe most of us would. GO AWAY!

But as some of my friends might say, 'then she lays the 411 on him' and he changes his mind. Emily's 12 year old son is in terminus if Myron can't find a mysterious donor.

I like the guy. Enjoyable reading. 5 stars. Larry Scantlebury
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