Commencez à lire One Day (English Edition) sur votre Kindle dans moins d'une minute. Vous n'avez pas encore de Kindle ? Achetez-le ici Ou commencez à lire dès maintenant avec l'une de nos applications de lecture Kindle gratuites.

Envoyer sur votre Kindle ou un autre appareil

 
 
 

Essai gratuit

Découvrez gratuitement un extrait de ce titre

Envoyer sur votre Kindle ou un autre appareil

One Day (English Edition)
 
Agrandissez cette image
 

One Day (English Edition) [Format Kindle]

David Nicholls
4.3 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (24 commentaires client)

Prix éditeur - format imprimé : EUR 10,51
Prix Kindle : EUR 6,99 TTC & envoi gratuit via réseau sans fil par Amazon Whispernet
Économisez : EUR 3,52 (33%)

App de lecture Kindle gratuite Tout le monde peut lire les livres Kindle, même sans un appareil Kindle, grâce à l'appli Kindle GRATUITE pour les smartphones, les tablettes et les ordinateurs.

Pour obtenir l'appli gratuite, saisissez votre adresse e-mail ou numéro de téléphone mobile.





Les clients ayant acheté cet article ont également acheté


Descriptions du produit

Extrait

CHAPTER ONE
'THE FUTURE'

Friday 15TH July 1988
Rankeillor Street, Edinburgh

'I suppose the important thing is to make some sort of difference,' she said. 'You know, actually change something.'
     'What, like "change the world", you mean?'
     'Not the whole entire world. Just the little bit around you.'
     They lay in silence for a moment, bodies curled around each other in the single bed, then both began to laugh in low, pre-dawn voices. 'Can't believe I just said that,' she groaned. 'Sounds a bit corny, doesn't it?'
     'A bit corny.'
     'I'm trying to be inspiring! I'm trying to lift your grubby soul for the great adventure that lies ahead of you.' She turned to face him. 'Not that you need it. I expect you've got your future nicely mapped out, ta very much. Probably got a little flow-chart somewhere or something.'
     'Hardly.'
     'So what're you going to do then? What's the great plan?'
     'Well, my parents are going to pick up my stuff, dump it at theirs, then I'll spend a couple of days in their flat in London, see some friends. Then France-'
     'Very nice-'
     'Then China maybe, see what that's all about, then maybe onto India, travel around there for a bit-'
     'Traveling,' she sighed. 'So predictable.'
     'What's wrong with travelling?'
     'Avoiding reality more like.'
     'I think reality is over-rated,' he said in the hope that this might come across as dark and charismatic.
     She sniffed. 'S'alright, I suppose, for those who can afford it. Why not just say "I'm going on holiday for two years"? It's the same thing.'
     'Because travel broadens the mind,' he said, rising onto one elbow and kissing her.
     'Oh I think you're probably a bit too broad-minded as it is,' she said, turning her face away, for the moment at least. They settled again on the pillow. 'Anyway, I didn't mean what are you doing next month, I meant the future-future, when you're, I don't know...' She paused, as if conjuring up some fantastical idea, like a fifth dimension. '...Forty or something. What do you want to be when you're forty?'
     'Forty?' He too seemed to be struggling with the concept. 'Don't know. Am I allowed to say "rich"?'
     'Just so, so shallow.'
     'Alright then, "famous".' He began to nuzzle at her neck. 'Bit morbid, this, isn't it?'
     'It's not morbid, it's...exciting.'
     ' 'Exciting!' ' He was imitating her voice now, her soft Yorkshire accent, trying to make her sound daft. She got this a lot, posh boys doing funny voices, as if there was something unusual and quaint about an accent, and not for the first time she felt a reassuring shiver of dislike for him. She shrugged herself away until her back was pressed against the cool of the wall.
     'Yes, exciting. We're meant to be excited, aren't we? All those possibilities. It's like the Vice-Chancellor said, "the doors of opportunity flung wide..."'
     '"Yours are the names in tomorrow's newspapers..."'
     'Not very likely.'
     'So, what, are you excited then?'
     'Me? God no, I'm crapping myself.'
     'Me too. Christ...' He turned suddenly and reached for the cigarettes on the floor by the side of the bed, as if to steady his nerves. 'Forty years old. Forty. Fucking hell.'
     Smiling at his anxiety, she decided to make it worse. 'So what'll you be doing when you're forty?'
     He lit his cigarette thoughtfully. 'Well the thing is, Em-'
     '"Em"? Who's "Em"?'
     'People call you Em. I've heard them.'
     'Yeah, friends call me Em.'
     'So can I call you Em?'
     'Go on then, Dex.'
     'So I've given this whole "growing old" thing some thought and I've come to the decision that I'd like to stay exactly as I am right now.'
     Dexter Mayhew. She peered up at him through her fringe as he leant against the cheap buttoned vinyl headboard and even without her spectacles on it was clear why he might want to stay exactly this way. Eyes closed, the cigarette glued languidly to his lower lip, the dawn light warming the side of his face through the red filter of the curtains, he had the knack of looking perpetually posed for a photograph. Emma Morley thought 'handsome' a silly, nineteenth-century word, but there really was no other word for it, except perhaps 'beautiful'. He had one of those faces where you were aware of the bones beneath the skin, as if even his bare skull would be attractive. A fine nose, slightly shiny with grease, and dark skin beneath the eyes that looked almost bruised, a badge of honour from all the smoking and late nights spent deliberately losing at strip poker with girls from Bedales. There was something feline about him: eyebrows fine, mouth pouty in a self-conscious way, lips a shade too dark and full, but dry and chapped now, and rouged with Bulgarian red wine. Gratifyingly his hair was terrible, short at the back and sides, but with an awful little quiff at the front. Whatever gel he used had worn off, and now the quiff looked pert and fluffy, like a silly little hat.
     Still with his eyes closed, he exhaled smoke through his nose. Clearly he knew he was being looked at because he tucked one hand beneath his armpit, bunching up his pectorals and biceps. Where did the muscles come from? Certainly not sporting activity, unless you counted skinny- dipping and playing pool. Probably it was just the kind of good health that was passed down in the family, along with the stocks and shares and the good furniture. Handsome then, or beautiful even, with his paisley boxer shorts pulled down to his hip bones and somehow here in her single bed in her tiny rented room at the end of four years of college. 'Handsome'! Who do you think you are, Jane Eyre? Grow up. Be sensible. Don't get carried away.
     She plucked the cigarette from his mouth. 'I can imagine you at forty,' she said, a hint of malice in her voice. 'I can picture it right now.'
     He smiled without opening his eyes. 'Go on then.'
     'Alright-' She shuffled up the bed, the duvet tucked beneath her armpits. 'You're in this sports car with the roof down in Kensington or Chelsea or one of those places and the amazing thing about this car is it's silent, 'cause all the cars'll be silent in, I don't know, what - 2006?'
     He scrunched his eyes to do the sum. '2004-'
     'And this car is hovering six inches off the ground down the King's Road and you've got this little paunch tucked under the leather steering wheel like a little pillow and those backless gloves on, thinning hair and no chin. You're a big man in a small car with a tan like a basted turkey-'
     'So shall we change the subject then?'
     'And there's this woman next to you in sunglasses, your third, no, fourth wife, very beautiful, a model, no, an ex-model, twenty-three, you met her while she was draped on the bonnet of a car at a motor- show in Nice or something, and she's stunning and thick as shit-'
      'Well that's nice. Any kids?'
      'No kids, just three divorces, and it's a Friday in July and you're heading off to some house in the country and in the tiny boot of your hover car are tennis racquets and croquet mallets and a hamper full of fine wines and South African grapes and poor little quails and asparagus and the wind's in your widow's peak and you're feeling very, very pleased with yourself and wife number three, four, whatever, smiles at you with about two hundred shiny white teeth and you smile back and try not to think about the fact that you have nothing, absolutely nothing, to say to each other.'
      She came to an abrupt halt. You sound insane, she told herself. Do try not to sound insane. 'Course if it's any consolation we'll all be dead in a nuclear war long before then!' she said brightly, but still he was frowning at her.
      'Maybe I should go then. If I'm so shallow and corrupt-'
      'No, don't go,' she said, a little too quickly. 'It's four in the morning.'
      He shuffled up the bed until his face was a few inches from hers. 'I don't know where you get this idea of me, you barely know me.'
      'I know the type.'
      'The type?'
      'I've seen you, hanging round Modern Languages, braying at each other, throwing black-tie dinner parties-'
      'I don't even own black-tie. And I certainly don't bray-'
      'Yachting your way round the Med in the long hols, ra ra ra-'
      'So if I'm so awful-' His hand was on her hip now.
      '-which you are.'
      '-then why are you sleeping with me?' His hand was on the warm soft flesh of her thigh.
      'Actually I don't think I have slept with you, have I?'
'Well that depends.' He leant in and kissed her. 'Define your terms.' His hand was on the base of her spine, his leg slipping between hers.
      'By the way,' she mumbled, her mouth pressed against his.
      'What?' He felt her leg snake around his, pulling him closer.
      'You need to brush your teeth.'
      'I don't mind if you don't.'
      'S'really horrible,' she laughed. 'You taste of wine and fags.'
      'Well that's alright then. So do you.'
      Her head snapped away, breaking off the kiss. 'Do I?'
      'I don't mind. I like wine and fags.'
      'Won't be a sec.' She flung the duvet back, clambering over him.
      'Where are you going now?' He placed his hand on her bare back.
      'Just the bog,' she said, retrieving her spectacles from the pile of books by the bed: large, black NHS frames, standard issue.
      'The "bog", the "bog"...sorry I'm not familiar...'
      She stood, one arm across her chest, careful to keep her back to him. 'Don't go away,' she said, padding out of the room, hooking two fingers into the elastic of her underpants to pull the material down at the top of her thighs. 'And no playing with yourself while I'm gone.'
      He exhaled through his nose and shuffled up the bed, taking in the shabby rented room, knowing with absolute confidence that somewhere in amongst the art postcards and photocopied posters for angry plays there would be a photograph of Nelson Mandela, like some dreamy ideal boyfriend. In his last four years he had seen any number of bedrooms like this, dotted round the city like crime scenes, rooms where you were never more than six feet from a Nina Simone album, and though he'd rarely seen the same bedroom twice, it was all too familiar. The burnt out nightlights and desolate pot plants, the smell of washing powder on cheap, ill-fitting sheets. She had that arty girl's passion for photomontage too; flash-lit snaps of college friends and family jumbled in amongst the Chagalls and Vermeers and Kandinskys, the Che Guevaras and Woody Allens and Samuel Becketts. Nothing here was neutral, everything displayed an allegiance or a point of view. The room was a manifesto, and with a sigh Dexter recognised her as one of those girls who used 'bourgeois' as a term of abuse. He could understand why 'fascist' might have negative connotations, but he liked the word 'bourgeois' and all that it implied. Security, travel, nice food, good manners, ambition; what was he meant to be apologising for?
      He watched the smoke curl from his mouth. Feeling for an ashtray, he found a book at the side of the bed. The Unbearable Lightness of Being, spine creased at the 'erotic' bits. The problem with these fiercely individualistic girls was that they were all exactly the same. Another book: The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat. Silly bloody fool, he thought, confident that it was not a mistake he would ever make.
      At twenty-three, Dexter Mayhew's vision of his future was no clearer than Emma Morley's. He hoped to be successful, to make his parents proud and to sleep with more than one woman at the same time, but how to make these all compatible? He wanted to feature in magazine articles, and hoped one day for a retrospective of his work, without having any clear notion of what that work might be. He wanted to live life to the extreme, but without any mess or complications. He wanted to live life in such a way that if a photograph were taken at random, it would be a cool photograph. Things should look right. Fun; there should be a lot of fun and no more sadness than absolutely necessary.
      It wasn't much of a plan, and already there had been mistakes. Tonight, for instance, was bound to have repercussions: tears and awkward phone-calls and accusations. He should probably get out of here as soon as possible, and he glanced at his discarded clothes in preparation for his escape. From the bathroom came the warning rattle and bang of an ancient toilet cistern, and he hurriedly replaced the book, finding beneath the bed a small yellow Colman's mustard tin that he flipped open to confirm that, yes, it did contain condoms, along with the small grey remains of a joint, like a mouse dropping. With the possibility of sex and drugs in a small yellow tin he felt hopeful again, and decided that he might stay a little longer at least.

      In the bathroom, Emma Morley wiped the crescents of toothpaste from the corner of her mouth and wondered if this was all a terrible mistake. Here she was, after four romantically barren years, finally, finally in bed with someone she really liked, had liked since she'd first seen him at a party in 1984, and in just a few hours he'd be gone. Forever probably. He was hardly likely to ask her to go to China with him, and besides she was boycotting China. And he was alright, wasn't he? Dexter Mayhew. In truth she suspected he wasn't all that bright, and a little too pleased with himself, but he was popular and funny and - no point fighting it - very handsome. So why was she being so stroppy and sarcastic? Why couldn't she just be self-confident and fun, like those scrubbed, bouncy girls he usually hung around with? She saw the dawn light at the tiny bathroom window. Sobriety. Scratching at her awful hair with her fingertips, she pulled a face, then yanked the chain of the ancient toilet cistern and headed back into the room.

      From the bed, Dexter watched her appear in the doorway, wearing the gown and mortar board that they'd been obliged to hire for the graduation ceremony, her leg hooked mock-seductively around the doorframe, her rolled degree certificate in one hand. She peered over her spectacles and pulled the mortar board down low over one eye. 'What d'you think?'
      'Suits you. I like the jaunty angle. Now take it off and come back to bed.'


From the Trade Paperback edition.

Revue de presse

"[An] instant classic. . . . One of the most hilarious and emotionally riveting love stories you’ll ever encounter." —People

“Big, absorbing, smart, fantastically readable." —Nick Hornby, from his blog
 
"[Nicholls] has a gift for zeitgeist description and emotional empathy that's wholly his own. . . . [A] light but surprisingly deep romance so thoroughly satisfying." —Entertainment Weekly

“Nicholls offers sharp dialogue and wry insight that sounds like Nick Hornby at his best.” —The Daily Beast (A Best Book of the Summer)

"Fluid, expertly paced, highly observed, and at times, both funny and moving." —Boston Globe

"Those of us susceptible to nostalgic reveries of youthful heartache and self-invention (which is to say, all of us) longed to get our hands on Nicholls’s new novel. . . . And if you do, you may want to take care where you lay this book down. You may not be the only one who wants in on the answers." —New York Times Book Review

"Who doesn’t relish a love story with the right amount of heart-melting romance, disappointment, regret, and huge doses of disenchantment about growing up and growing old between quarreling meant-to-be lovers?" —Elle, Top 10 Summer Books for 2010

“A great, funny, and heart-breaking read.” —The Early Show [CBS]

"Funny, sweet and completely engrossing . . . The friendship at the heart of this novel is best expressed within the pitch-perfect dialogue/banter between the two." —Very Short List

“A wonderful, wonderful book: wise, funny, perceptive, compassionate and often unbearably sad . . . the best British social novel since Jonathan Coe’s What a Carve Up!. . . . Nicholls’s witty prose has a transparency that brings Nick Hornby to mind: it melts as you read it so that you don’t notice all the hard work that it’s doing.” —The Times (London)
 
“Just as Nicholls has made full use of his central concept, so he has drawn on all his comic and literary gifts to produce a novel that is not only roaringly funny but also memorable, moving and, in its own unassuming, unpretentious way, rather profound.” —The Guardian (London)


From the Trade Paperback edition.

Détails sur le produit

  • Format : Format Kindle
  • Taille du fichier : 946 KB
  • Nombre de pages de l'édition imprimée : 449 pages
  • Editeur : Hodder & Stoughton (23 juillet 2009)
  • Vendu par : Amazon Media EU S.à r.l.
  • Langue : Anglais
  • ASIN: B002V091IO
  • Synthèse vocale : Activée
  • X-Ray :
  • Word Wise: Activé
  • Moyenne des commentaires client : 4.3 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (24 commentaires client)
  • Classement des meilleures ventes d'Amazon: n°3.955 dans la Boutique Kindle (Voir le Top 100 dans la Boutique Kindle)
  •  Souhaitez-vous faire modifier les images ?


En savoir plus sur l'auteur

Découvrez des livres, informez-vous sur les écrivains, lisez des blogs d'auteurs et bien plus encore.

Quels sont les autres articles que les clients achètent après avoir regardé cet article?


Commentaires en ligne

Commentaires client les plus utiles
4 internautes sur 4 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 A deep and fun book to read 12 décembre 2011
Par Calixthe
Format:Broché
A lot has been said and written a bout this book, so there is little to add. However, it lived up to the hype. The author did a great job of creating distinctive and very believable characters with voices that resonate very well with reality. The way the story is written reminds me of the the thriller Triple Agent Double Cross. The plot in this story is brilliant and the setting makes it even more appealing. There are tons of lessons in this book. In short, this mesmerizing story attests to the creative mind of the author.
Avez-vous trouvé ce commentaire utile ?
4 internautes sur 4 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
4.0 étoiles sur 5 Intelligent et bouleversant 6 novembre 2011
Par Nathou VOIX VINE
Format:Broché|Achat vérifié
1988. Emma et Dexter se rencontrent un peu par hasard et passent la nuit de leur remise de diplôme ensemble mais chastement. Ce jour-là marque le début d'une histoire d'amour frustrée et refoulée, prenant au fil des années l'apparence d'une histoire d'amitié connaissant ses hauts et ses bas. Chaque chapitre correspond à la date anniversaire de leur rencontre, ce qui permet de suivre leur histoire sur 20 ans. One Day est le deuxième livre de David Nicholls que je lis, après Starter for Ten. Si ces deux livres ont comme point commun le fait d'être profondément ancrés dans la culture anglaise, j'ai trouvé que One Day était beaucoup moins léger et somme toute plus sombre que Starter for Ten. L'histoire est très belle, sans pour autant être embellie, ce qui donne à ce livre un côté réaliste qui l'éloigne de l'atmosphère propre aux vraies comédies romantiques. Oui ce livre est le roman d'une histoire d'amour, seulement cette histoire n'est pas une histoire facile. C'est une histoire d'occasions manquées, empreinte de beaucoup de nostalgie. L'histoire de Dexter et Emma est jalonnée d'obstacles, et les quelques derniers chapitres du roman donnent au livre une dimension tragique, triste, sans tomber dans le mélodrame cependant, ce qui est très bien comme ça. L'atmosphère des années 80/90/2000 est palpable, très bien décrite et c'est une époque révolue qui défile devant nos yeux. Un livre intelligent, nostalgique, que j'ai beaucoup aimé. Un remake de Love Story, moins mélodramatique, sur fond de culture pop anglaise. Je comprends facilement pourquoi il a été adapté au cinéma.
Avez-vous trouvé ce commentaire utile ?
17 internautes sur 20 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Romantique, amusant et très émouvant 22 décembre 2010
Par Phil-Don TOP 500 COMMENTATEURS
Format:Broché
Emma et Dexter se rencontrent le jour de la remise des diplômes et passent - chastement - la nuit ensemble. Bien que chacun est attiré par l'autre, aucun ne l'avoue vraiment et c'est en tant qu'amis / amoureux frustrés qu'ils traversent les années, avec une amitié connaissant des hauts et des bas.

"One Day" nous fait découvrir le parcours de l'un et de l'autre sur une période d'une 20aine d'années en s'arrêtant toujours sur la même journée / date anniversaire de leur rencontre - d'où le titre, - et c'est à chaque fois l'occasion de faire un bilan sur la situation de chacun.

Ayant lu "Starter for Ten" du même auteur, je m'attendais au même genre de comédie romantique - mais ce n'est pas tout à fait le cas. Certes, le livre n'est pas exempt d'humour, mais le ton général est plus grave: gravité de l'émotion et gravité dans les réflexions sur l'existence. Et quand on tourne la dernière page, l'ensemble est émouvant, voire même démoralisant!

On peut reprocher au livre un certain nombre de clichés, mais c'est inévitable, au même titre que la vie en est remplie. Je recommande ce bouquin aux amateurs de comédies romantiques un peu plus graves, où l'émotion l'emporte sur la légèreté.
Avez-vous trouvé ce commentaire utile ?
2 internautes sur 2 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Un-put-downable! Best read ever! 10 juillet 2011
Par Skimoune
Format:Broché
Loved this book, laughed, cried and rejoiced - the best read I've had for a while. David Nicholls has incredible talent - I immediately bought Starter for Ten to take with me on holiday!
Avez-vous trouvé ce commentaire utile ?
1 internautes sur 1 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Harry et Sally à la sauce londonienne 27 août 2012
Format:Broché
J'ai beaucoup aimé ce livre. C'est drôle, émouvant, triste. D'autres lecteurs ont expliqué comment le roman suit les héros qui sont "just friends", Dexter et Emma, chaque 15 juillet pendant 20 ans. On a donc l'occasion de très bien les connaître; ils font presque partie de la famille !! Ils font des mauvais choix comme des membres de notre propre famille mais ils sont tellement attachants. J'ai envie de lire d'autres romans par cet auteur
Avez-vous trouvé ce commentaire utile ?
1 internautes sur 1 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Très beau roman 10 juin 2012
Par Hellowdy
Format:Broché
- Très belle histoire
- Bien écrit
- Personnages attachants
- Parfois peut-être un peu long
- Très touchant et marquant
- Beaucoup mieux que le film!
Avez-vous trouvé ce commentaire utile ?
1 internautes sur 1 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 un livre passionnant 26 septembre 2011
Format:Broché
Un livre passionnant et prenant qu'il est très difficile de quitter. Un fois que vous l'avez commencé vous n'avez qu'une envie c'est d'aller jusqu'à la fin.
Avez-vous trouvé ce commentaire utile ?
4.0 étoiles sur 5 Une belle histoire 10 juin 2014
Par L. Moreau
Format:Broché|Achat vérifié
C'est original et ça fait du bien! Et surtout le livre est écrit dans un anglais plutôt accessible. C'était exactement ce que je cherchais.
Avez-vous trouvé ce commentaire utile ?
Vous voulez voir plus de commentaires sur cet article ?
Ces commentaires ont-ils été utiles ?   Dites-le-nous
Commentaires client les plus récents
5.0 étoiles sur 5 à lire absolument
tres émouvant et
tres bien écrit
ca témoigne de plus tout un pan de vie d'une société
j'en ai pleuré à la fin
Publié il y a 9 mois par CABILING Lily-ann
5.0 étoiles sur 5 One Day : j'ai bien aimé ce livre
J'ai lu ce livre il y a déjà quelque temps, mais je l'ai bien aimé et je le recommande bien volontiers.
Publié il y a 10 mois par RAYNARD
4.0 étoiles sur 5 Une magnifique tranche de vie
Rythmé, drôle, romantique et addictif
Les héros de Nicholls sont encore une fois d'une justesse et d'une sensibilité parfaites. Lire la suite
Publié il y a 16 mois par par ZeldaZonk33
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Never give up !!!
Belle histoire , personnages attachants , lieux typiques , so British !!!
Et le film est tout aussi réussi. Bravo
Publié il y a 17 mois par Herve Carouge
3.0 étoiles sur 5 chassé croisé amoureux
Le pitch une même journée sur 20 ans pour décrire l'évolution d'une relation amoureuse est très heureux et original
La description de... Lire la suite
Publié il y a 22 mois par Anne Fauchon
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Très touchant
Moi qui n'aime pas forcément les livres à l'eau de rose, celui-ci m'a particulièrement touché. Lire la suite
Publié le 20 décembre 2012 par Marie
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Un bon moment d'émotion en toute simplicité
Très belle lecture dans laquelle on se projette aisément et qui nous fait passer un très bon moment. j'ai adoré!
Publié le 28 octobre 2012 par DIDI
4.0 étoiles sur 5 Agréable surprise
J'ai lu ce livre (presque) par hasard, et je dois avouer l'avoir dévoré.
Soit, ce n'est pas de la grande littérature, mais c'est charmant et so British... Lire la suite
Publié le 28 juillet 2012 par Cedric Gibbons
4.0 étoiles sur 5 pour le lecteur anglais
very good book with nostalgic images of life in Edimbourgh and London from the '6Os '70s and 80s. The caracters are credible , the story has an interesting continuity and pathos
Publié le 18 juin 2012 par alice
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Review of One Day by David Nicholls
What a super book. Clever, witty and intelligent. I like the way the author picks just one day (!) out of the 20 years to look at the relationship between Emma and Dexter.
Publié le 27 mai 2012 par Jayne Woods
Rechercher des commentaires
Rechercher uniquement parmi les commentaires portant sur ce produit

Discussions entre clients

Le forum concernant ce produit
Discussion Réponses Message le plus récent
Pas de discussions pour l'instant

Posez des questions, partagez votre opinion, gagnez en compréhension
Démarrer une nouvelle discussion
Thème:
Première publication:
Aller s'identifier
 

Rechercher parmi les discussions des clients
Rechercher dans toutes les discussions Amazon
   


Rechercher des articles similaires par rubrique