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Riders [Paperback]

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  • Category: Books (Fiction)
  • Author:  Winton, Tim
  • Author:  Winton, Tim
  • ISBN-10:  0684822776
  • ISBN-10:  0684822776
  • ISBN-13:  9780684822778
  • ISBN-13:  9780684822778
  • Publisher:  Scribner
  • Publisher:  Scribner
  • Pages:  384
  • Pages:  384
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Pub Date:  01-Jan-1996
  • Pub Date:  01-Jan-1996
  • SKU:  0684822776-11-MING
  • SKU:  0684822776-11-MING
  • Item ID: 100638427
  • List Price: $19.00
  • Seller: ShopSpell
  • Ships in: 2 business days
  • Transit time: Up to 5 business days
  • Delivery by: Nov 28 to Nov 30
  • Notes: Brand New Book. Order Now.

An exploration of marriage and the rich relationship that can exist between father and daughter,The Ridersis a gorgeously wrought novel from the award-winning author Tim Winton.

After traveling through Europe for two years, Scully and his wife Jennifer wind up in Ireland, and on a mystical whim of Jennifer's, buy an old farmhouse which stands in the shadow of a castle. While Scully spends weeks alone renovating the old house, Jennifer returns to Australia to liquidate their assets. When Scully arrives at Shannon Airport to pick up Jennifer and their seven-year-old daughter, Billie, it is Billie who emerges—alone. There is no note, no explanation, not so much as a word from Jennifer, and the shock has left Billie speechless. In that instant, Scully's life falls to pieces.

The Ridersis a superbly written and a darkly haunting story of a lovesick man in a vain search for a vanished woman. It is a powerfully accurate account of marriage today, of the demons that trouble relationships, of resurrection found in the will to keep going, in the refusal to hold on, to stand still.The Ridersis also a moving story about the relationship between a loving man and his tough, bright daughter.Chapter One

With the north wind hard at his back, Scully stood in the doorway and sniffed. The cold breeze charged into the house, finding every recess and shadowy hollow. It rattled boards upstairs and lifted scabs of paint from the walls to come back full in his face smelling of mildew, turf, soot, birdshit, Worcestershire sauce and the sealed-up scent of the dead and forgotten. He scraped his muddy boots on the flagstones and closed the door behind him. The sudden noise caused an explosion in the chimney as jackdaws fled their fortress of twigs in the fireplace. His heart racing, he listened to them batter skyward, out into the failing day, and when they were gone he lit a match and set it amongst the debris. In a moment fire roarl³’

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