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Fade Away: A Myron Bolitar Novel par [Coben, Harlan]
Publicité sur l'appli Kindle

Fade Away: A Myron Bolitar Novel Format Kindle

4.8 étoiles sur 5 4 commentaires client

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Longueur : 370 pages Word Wise: Activé Composition améliorée: Activé
Page Flip: Activé Langue : Anglais

Description du produit


Chapter One

Just behave.”

“Me?” Myron said. “I’m always a delight.”

Myron Bolitar was being led through the corridor of the darkened Meadowlands Arena by Calvin Johnson, the New Jersey Dragons new general manager. Their dress shoes clacked sharply against the tile and echoed through empty Harry M. Stevens food stands, Carvel Ice Cream carts, pretzel vendors, souvenir booths. The smell of sporting-event hot dogs—that sort of rubbery, chemically, yet nostalgically delicious aroma—wafted from the walls. The stillness of the place consumed them; there is nothing more hollow and lifeless than an empty sports arena.

Calvin Johnson stopped in front of a door leading to a luxury box. “This may all seem a bit strange,” he said. “Just go with the flow, okay?”


Calvin reached for the knob and took a deep breath. “Clip Arnstein, the owner of the Dragons, is in there waiting for us.”

“And yet I’m not trembling,” Myron said.

Calvin Johnson shook his head. “Just don’t be an ass.”

Myron pointed to his chest. “I wore a tie and ?everything.”

Calvin Johnson opened the door. The luxury box faced midcourt. Several workers were putting down the basketball floor over the hockey ice. The Devils had played the night before. Tonight was the Dragons’ turn. The box was cozy. Twenty-four cushioned seats. Two tele?vision monitors. To the right was a wood-paneled counter for the food—usually fried chicken, hot dogs, po?tato knishes, sausage and pepper sandwiches, that sort of stuff. To the left was a brass cart with a nicely stocked bar and minifridge. The box also had its own bathroom—this so the corporate high rollers would not have to urinate with the great unwashed.

Clip Arnstein faced them, standing. He wore a dark blue suit with a red tie. He was bald with patches of gray over both ears. He was burly, his chest still a barrel after seventy-some-odd years. His large hands had brown spots and fat blue veins like garden hoses. No one spoke. No one moved. Clip glared hard at Myron for several seconds, examining him from head to toe.

“Like the tie?” Myron asked.

Calvin Johnson shot him a warning glance.

The old man made no movement toward them. “How old are you now, Myron?”

Interesting opening question. “Thirty-two.”

“You playing any ball?”

“Some,” Myron said.

“You keep in good shape?”

“Want me to flex?”

“No, that won’t be necessary.”

No one offered Myron a seat and no one took one. Of course the only chairs in here were the spectator seats, but it still felt weird to stand in a business setting where you’re supposed to sit. Standing suddenly became difficult. Myron felt antsy. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. He took out a pen and held it, but that didn’t feel right. Too Bob Dole. He stuck his hands in his pockets and stood at a weird angle, like the casual guy in the Sears circular.

“Myron, we have an interesting proposition for you,” Clip Arnstein said.

“Proposition?” Always the probing interrogatory.

“Yes. I was the one who drafted you, you know.”

“I know.”

“Ten, eleven years ago. When I was with the Celtics.”

“I know.”

“First round.”

“I know all this, Mr. Arnstein.”

“You were a hell of a prospect, Myron. You were smart. You had an unbelievable touch. You were loaded with talent.” “I coulda been a contenda,” Myron said.

Arnstein scowled. It was a famous scowl, developed over some fifty-plus years in professional basketball. The scowl had made its first appearance when Clip played for the now-defunct Rochester Royals in the forties. It grew more famous when he coached the Boston Celtics to numerous championships. It became a legendary trade?mark when he made all the famous trades (“clipping” the competition, ergo the nickname) as team president. Three years ago Clip had become majority owner of the New Jer?sey Dragons and the scowl now resided in East Ruther?ford, right off Exit 16 of the New Jersey Turnpike. His voice was gruff. “Was that supposed to be Brando?”

“Eerie, isn’t it? Like Marlon’s actually in the room.”

Clip Arnstein’s face suddenly softened. He nodded slowly, giving Myron the doelike, father-figure eyes. “You make jokes to cover the pain,” he said gravely. “I understand that.”

Dr. Joyce Brothers.

“Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Arnstein?”

“You never played in a single professional game, did you, Myron?”

“You know very well I didn’t.”

Clip nodded. “Your first preseason game. Third quarter. You already had eighteen points that game. Not bad for a rookie in his first scrimmage. That was when fate took over.”

Fate took the form of big Burt Wesson of the Washington Bullets. There had been a collision, a searing pain, and then nothing.

“Awful thing,” Clip said.

“Uh huh.”

“I always felt bad about what happened to you. Such a waste.”

Myron glanced at Calvin Johnson. Calvin was looking off, arms crossed, his smooth black features a placid pool. “Uh huh,” Myron said again.

“That’s why I’d like to give you another chance.”

Myron was sure he’d heard wrong. “Pardon?”

“We have a slot open on the team. I’d like to sign you.”

Myron waited. He looked at Clip. Then he looked at Calvin Johnson. Neither one was laughing. “Where is it?” Myron asked.


“The camera. This is one of those hidden camera shows, right? Is this the one with Ed McMahon? I’m a big fan of his work.”

“It’s not a joke, Myron.”

“It must be, Mr. Arnstein. I haven’t played competitive ball in ten years. I shattered my knee, remember?”

“All too well. But as you said, it was ten years ago. I know you went through rehabilitation to rebuild it.”

“And you also know I tried a comeback. Seven years ago. The knee wouldn’t hold up.”

“It was still too early,” Clip said. “You just told me you’re playing again.”

“Pickup games on weekends. It’s a tad different than the NBA.”

Clip dismissed the argument with a wave of his hand. “You’re in shape. You even volunteered to flex.”

Myron’s eyes narrowed, swerving from Clip to Calvin Johnson, back to Clip. Their expressions were neutral. “Why do I have the feeling,” Myron asked, “that I’m missing something here?”

Clip finally smiled. He looked over to Calvin Johnson. Calvin Johnson forced up a return smile.

“Perhaps I should be less”—Clip paused, searched for the word—“opaque.”

“That might be helpful.”

“I want you on the team. I don’t much care if you play or not.”

Myron waited again. When no one continued, he said, “It’s still a bit opaque.”

Clip let loose a long breath. He walked over to the bar, opened a small hotel-style fridge, and removed a can of Yoo-Hoo. Stocking Yoo-Hoos. Hmm. Clip had been prepared. “You still drink this sludge?”

“Yes,” Myron said.

He tossed Myron the can and poured something from a decanter into two glasses. He handed one to Calvin Johnson. He signaled to the seats by the glass window. Exactly midcourt. Very nice. Nice leg room too. Even Calvin, who was six-eight, was able to stretch a bit. The three men sat next to one another, all facing the same way, which again felt weird in a business setting. You were supposed to sit across from one another, preferably at a table or desk. Instead they sat shoulder to shoulder, watching the work crew pound the floor into place.

“Cheers,” Clip said.

He sipped his whiskey. Calvin Johnson just held his. Myron, obeying the instructions on the can, shook his Yoo-Hoo.

“If I’m not mistaken,” Clip continued, “you’re a lawyer now.”

“I’m a member of the bar,” Myron said. “I don’t practice much law.”

“You’re a sports agent.”


“I don’t trust agents,” Clip said.

“Neither do I.”

“For the most part, they’re bloodsucking leeches.”

“We prefer the term ‘parasitic entities,’?” Myron said. “It’s more PC.”

Clip Arnstein leaned forward, his eyes zeroing in on Myron’s. “How do I know I can trust you?”

Myron pointed at himself. “My face,” he said. “It screams trustworthiness.”

Clip did not smile. He leaned a little closer. “What I’m about to tell you must remain confidential.”


“Do you give me your word it won’t go any farther than this room?”

“Yes.” Clip hesitated, glanced at Calvin Johnson, shifted in his seat. “You know, of course, Greg Downing.”

Of course. Myron had grown up with Greg Downing. From the time they had first competed as sixth graders in a town league less than twenty miles from where Myron now sat, they were instant rivals. When they reached high school, Greg’s family moved to the neighboring town of Essex Fells because Greg’s father did not want his son sharing the basketball spotlight with Myron. The personal rivalry then began to take serious flight. They played against each other eight times in high school, each winning four games. Myron and Greg became New Jersey’s hottest recruits and both matriculated at big-time basketball colleges with a storied rivalry of their own—Myron to Duke, Greg to North Carolina.

The personal rivalry soared.

During their college careers, they had shared two Sports Illustrated covers. Both teams won the ACC twice, but Myron picked up a national championship. Both Myron and Greg were picked first-team All-American, both at the guard spots. By the time they both graduated, Duke and North Carolina had played each other twelve times. The Myron-led Duke had won eight of them. When the NBA draft came, both men went in the first round.

The personal rivalry crashed and burned.

Myron’s career ended when he collided with big Burt Wesson. Greg Downing sidestepped fate and went on to become one of the NBA premier guards. During his ten-year career with the New Jersey Dragons Downing had been named to the All-Star team eight times. He led the league twice in three-point shooting. Four times he led the league in free-throw percentage and once in assists. He’d been on three Sports Illustrated covers and had won an NBA championship.

From the Hardcover edition.

Revue de presse

"Brilliant! Perfect for fans of Sue Grafton, Robert B. Parker, and everyone else!"—Nancy Pickard, author of I.O.U.

"Fast action, snappy dialogue...[An] enjoyable read."—Toronto Star

Détails sur le produit

  • Format : Format Kindle
  • Taille du fichier : 3070 KB
  • Nombre de pages de l'édition imprimée : 370 pages
  • Editeur : Delacorte Press; Édition : 1st (15 septembre 2008)
  • Vendu par : Amazon Media EU S.à r.l.
  • Langue : Anglais
  • ASIN: B001FA0IV0
  • Synthèse vocale : Non activée
  • X-Ray :
  • Word Wise: Activé
  • Lecteur d’écran : Pris en charge
  • Composition améliorée: Activé
  • Moyenne des commentaires client : 4.8 étoiles sur 5 4 commentaires client
  • Classement des meilleures ventes d'Amazon: n°88.659 dans la Boutique Kindle (Voir le Top 100 dans la Boutique Kindle)
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C'est le troisième de la série Myron et il est vrai que certaines parties sont un peu répétitives...
Pour le lecteur qui connait les personnages, cela peut être lourd.
Mais ce troisième livre est particulièrement bien ficellé en ce qui concerne les connexions avec le passé de Myron... je n'en dis pas plus :-)
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Fan de basket NBA, j'ai bien apprécié la partie où le héros se voit proposer un contrat temporaire le temps de résoudre l'affaire, mais au-delà de ça, les personnages sont bien développés et réalistes, l'intrigue tient bien la route sans réserver trop de "deus ex machina" dont Coben est un peu trop friand.
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Third book of the Myron Bolitar series and now it's even more personal as Myron comes to understand that fate wasn't responsible for the major change in his life. Can't say more as I don't want to ruin it for you!

Again, if, like me, you read this series in the order it was written, you may find some aspects repetitive as Coben cannot assume you've read the previous volumes but it is interesting to see how Myron evolves (and scary to see how Win stays exactly the same) the New York/New Jersey humor is there, the plots still gripping and as always, you'll have to wait until the end to understand it all.
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pour les fans de Myron, toujours une belle histoire.
policier avec des personnages principaux attachants.
on veut toute la série après !
chacun des livres peut se lire indépendamment...
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Commentaires client les plus utiles sur (beta) (Peut contenir des commentaires issus du programme Early Reviewer Rewards) 4.4 étoiles sur 5 398 commentaires
3 internautes sur 3 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
4.0 étoiles sur 5 A wisecracking, fast plot makes this book a terrific and fun read, 9 juillet 2016
Par HELEN MOED - Publié sur
Format: Format Kindle Achat vérifié
I am a 74 year old retired psychologist and an avid reader with a passion for Myron Bolitar the hero of a series written by Harlan Coben. Fade Away, like most of the Coben books that I have read has an interesting mystery tale this time revolving around a missing basketball star player. But the stars are for his characterizations. Even the minor characters have personalities. The dialogue is sharp and witty and even when wisecrack remarks are out of place in some situations, our somewhat neurotic anti-hero becomes even more endearing, The background basketball scenes are interesting and realistic. Fade Away misses the 5 stars by having an ending that appears suddenly, almost as if the author got a bit tired so he tied up all the ends quickly and went to have a cup of coffee. But all in all Harlan Coben's understanding of people and relationships within a fast moving plot made this a terrific and fun read.
2 internautes sur 2 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Another Good Harlan Coben Book 10 février 2016
Par knightglo - Publié sur
Format: Format Kindle Achat vérifié
I've been a Harlan Coben fan ever since a woman I met in Ecuador gave me one of his books to read. This story flows very well and keeps you guessing until nearly the end. The sexual content I noted is very mild (by today's standard), related to the lead character sleeping over at his girlfriend's place and a reference to one woman's "outstanding" anatomical feature, which was actually an important part of the story--but not in a sexual way. If you are an English "purist" like I am, you will find a couple of issues with the grammar, but nothing too onerous. All in all, the book was so enjoyable, I'm reading another book in the series and plan to read all of them.
1 internautes sur 1 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Myron makes a comeback 22 février 2015
Par Patto - Publié sur
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But it's a fake comeback. Although he gets signed up with the New Jersey Dragons, management doesn't really want him to play. They want him to get friendly with the other players and find a missing star, Greg Downing.

But Myron does get to play some basketball with the pros, and I found his reactions to being on the court again quite fascinating – the pre-play nerves, the joy of playing well and scoring, the humiliation of playing badly. If you've read the earlier books you know that Myron was a major talent who dropped out of basketball after a devastating injury. This book is as much about Myron getting over the loss of his future as a pro as it is about solving a mystery.

The mystery is tremendously complex and involves mobsters, hired thugs, blackmailers, fugitives from justice, feuding spouses, and spoiled superstars. Murder enters the picture too, and the cops are in a constant state of annoyance with Myron, whose investigation keeps overlapping with theirs.

Whenever Myron gets nervous, and there's a lot to make him nervous in this book, his mouth goes into overdrive – and out come the quips in a steady stream. His compulsive joking is generally pretty funny. Also amusing is the dialog between Myron and his Jewish mother.

So this book is an interesting mix of wacky humor and heavy emotional stuff. I really enjoyed Fade Away, and I'm hooked on the series.
5.0 étoiles sur 5 Haunting 27 février 2013
Par Rocco Dormarunno - Publié sur
Format: Poche Achat vérifié
It seems, in Myron Bolitar's world, that everyone is an off-balanced smart ass, including Myron. Does everyone crack wise? Is everyone an eccentirc? (Then again, Myron is surrounded by New Yorkers and Jerseyites, so maybe.) In the case of "Fade Away", however, the wise cracks and weirdos may all lead to the solution surrounding the disappearance of an unhinged, famous (and famously unhinged) NBA player, Greg Downing. When the trail leads to the bludgeoned corpse of a woman near Columbia University, things aren't so funny suddenly. And when Myron, Win and Esperanza find themselves at the wrong end of a gun--or guns, I should say--things get quite serious. Enough said about the plot. This is a mystery and it's written by Harlan Coben: you do the math.

What I found intriguing though was the title. In the Bolitar series, the title is restricted to, and naturally stems from, Myron's occupation or from the sport in which his client is active: golf, tennis, etc. In this case, a fade away is a type of basketball jumpshot. But other things are fading away or have already disappeared. Obviously, Myron's very short-lived basketball career, as well as his come-back in this novel, belong to the past. The misguided efforts of a criminal, radical 1970s group (also trying to make a come-back, maybe) belong to history. Myron's conflicted feelings about Jessica are haunted by their previous entanglement. In one poignant scene, Myron ponders his Boston Celtic heroes, John Havlicek and Larry Bird, and how their careers are now relegated to "Basketball History". In the same chapter, he even reflects on his hometown of Livingston, NJ and the enormous changes it has undergone imperceptibly, and how his own parents will one day be among those no longer occupying it. These sad, reflective moments temper the seeming frivoulous jokes and comments by the characters, and give the novel a haunting aspect which I have not seen in other books in the Bolitar series. As with other Coben mysteries, I highly recommend "Fade Away".

5.0 étoiles sur 5 Great mystery, suspense novel wrapped around a strong 23 octobre 2016
Par Gastrognome - Publié sur
Format: Format Kindle Achat vérifié
Great mystery, suspense novel wrapped around a strong, funny character. Bonus, it's written around a character from the Northern New Jersey area, some places less than a mile from my house! I can picture the protagonist driving around my stomping grounds.
Would love to see some of his novels become a series or movies done in humorous 'film noir' style. Still can't figure out who I'd like for the protagonist, but I can picture Owen Wilson playing "Win" and Rosie Perez as "Esperanza".
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