Iced - by Jenny Siler - Audio Book CD
Brand New (7 CDs - 7hours):
About Iced
On a cold December day in Missoula, Montana, the authorities pull Clay Bennett's corpse within the weeds. For the cops, Bennett's death is an open-and-shut case, the outcome of the drunken brawl gone from control. For repo female Meg Gardner, who'd been seeking to snag Bennett's Jeep, his death is an opportunity: Without him about to create lifetime difficult, the job ought to be a breeze.
Just 1 year from prison, romantically associated, and functioning the initial legitimate job she's ever had, all Meg wants is to keep details clean and easy. So when Bennett's Jeep is broken into outside her apartment by a bunch of Russian thugs, instinct and experience demand that she walk away. But then she learns about the lost military airplane Bennett had been looking obsessively before he was killed -- the same airplane he crashed in the wilderness forty years earlier. And when a tattooed female with an astonishing center for knives shows up in town, Meg has no choice but to find the real cause of Bennett's death.
Desperate to safeguard what small she has, and driven by ghosts from her own past, Meg plunges ahead -- and finds herself associated in a risky internet of infidelity, greed, and murder.
About Jenny Siler
COWBOYS AND MOHAWKS
I was born in New Brunswick, New Jersey, but my family moved to Missoula, Montana when I was five, thus that my mom might research creative writing at the University of Montana. At twelve, inspired by the styles I'd experienced on our family's recent year-long journey to Europe, I became punk's initial official embassador to Montana. Sadly, my tries were not appreciated by the localized cowpokes.
A MODEL CITIZEN
At fifteen I received a scholarship to attend significant school at Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachussets. Overjoyed at the prospect of fleeing Missoula, I grew my mohawk out, purchased myself a pair of chinos and some Tretorns, and headed east. To the delight of my parents, I passed the upcoming 3 years under the short-lived guise of the model citizen. I studied difficult, produced neighbors, and, to my complete surprise, graduated with a sizable scholarship to Columbia University.
SMELLS LIKE TEEN ANGST
Drunk on teenager angst and Campari, I decided to defer my acceptance to Columbia. I invested the upcoming year drifting and functioning my method around Europe. I moved furniture with monks and ex-convicts in Paris, invested many weeks in a monastery in Burgundy, waited tables in an Italian restaurant in Scotland, worked as a sketch model and in a pharmaceutical factory in Frankfurt, and loaded tomato pickups in Greece. But my many impressive feat was hitchhiking from Brindisi, Italy to Barcelona, Spain, with just 1000 Italian Lire (about a dollar) in my pocket. I returned to the States in the spring of that year and invested the summer functioning in a salmon cannery in Alaska.
THE FUTURE LOOKS DIM
After a miserable year at Columbia, I headed back to Alaska for a 2nd summer at the cannery. Lured by the romance of fish guts, bad wages, and mind-numbing work, I finally decided that my right course of action is to place my Ivy League knowledge on hold indefinitely and move to Key West, Florida. There I held the glamorous jobs of hotel maid, forklift driver, cabbie, and waitress. Three years of sunlight, sand, drugs, and alcohol later, I climbed into my rusted Subaru and drove north. Back to Montana this time, and another try at a University diploma. But an knowledge merely wasn't in my cards. Defeated by a frigid Missoula winter, I got back to my small vehicle and headed for the coastline. When my clutch cable broke in Seattle, I decided to create it my house.
AND NOW, DENNY'S
It was only my chance to arrive in Seattle lengthy before the meteoric tech boom of the late 90's. Before Amazon or IPO's turned the grungy bars of Belltown into fifty-dollar-a-plate steak houses. In my Seattle, it took 3 weeks to locate a job at Denny's. (And just 1 day for me to stop.) But I hung on and invested the upcoming limited years waiting tables and tending bar, functioning my means from filthy Pioneer Square to the Bobo streets of Capitol Hill.
FABIO TO THE RESCUE
Realizing my existence was going nowhere quick, I decided it was time for a change, in the shape of either a dreaded return to school, or perhaps a miraculous lottery win. But as fate would have it, there was a 3rd way in shop for me. At a party 1 evening a friend of mine and I decided we would write a romance novel together. How hard may it be, we asked ourselves, to become the upcoming Jackie Collins? Fueled by inexpensive red wine, and self-mockery, we sketched out a loose plot and characters. Something about a breathtaking orphan, a handsome painter, a seaside apartment in Maine (not notice that neither of us had ever been to Maine), and the ghost of the painter's dead spouse. It was fabulous, we agreed. We'd alternate composing the chapters, and in no time we'd be living in a penthouse in New York.
EASY MONEY
In the sober light of morning, my friend need known the foolishness of our program, but I got to composing. Four months later I had completed my initially novel. A bodice ripper, yes, but it was 3 100 pages lengthy, and I'd performed it all. I not did market it, and there's nonetheless no penthouse in New York, but my romance novel taught me I can write. I went on to write another novel, a thriller this time, that would eventually become EASY MONEY. It was published by Henry Holt in 1998. I was twenty-seven years aged.
IT'S NO PENTHOUSE, BUT...
In the years since, I've published 3 more novels that have been translated into a dozen foreign lanuages and am currently at function on my fifth. After spending five beautiful years back in Missoula following the publication of my initial novel, I have newly relocated to Lexington, Virginia, in the stunning Shenandoah Valley. I reside with my spouse, Keith, our daughter, Vivica, and our cranky cat, Frank. I am a full time author.
|
