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• Poem-a-Day Collection (8)
• Robin Hood (07 of 79)
• Paranoia (007 of 170)

Poem-a-Day Collection (8) Posted: 04 Jul 2011 09:30 AM PDT 8 Poem-a-Day Collection by Knopf A Message from DailyLit Question of the Week: Describe (in 50 words or fewer) a time in your life when you experienced independence. Click here to share. COPYRIGHT Poem-a-Day Collection by Knopf. Compilation copyright 2009 by Knopf. All Rights Reserved. Sharing not permitted. Touch-Me-Nots By Jill Bialosky She brought a little of the country into the city in the pots of impatiens she had planted. The petals white, pure, the opposite of color. She had transferred the impatiens from the garden, digging her hands into soil two parts fibrous loam, one part leaf mold and peat moss and pushing the roots into the earth. Despite the quality of the soil—its rich decomposition of life— still they would not last. The plants were hardy and tender, with thick stems and dark green leaves, the seedpods inside waiting to release, the air awash in pollen. She looked into the flower as into a pair of beckoning eyes offering sustenance independent of a body, free floating and regenerative and wholly belonging to what was impossible ever to touch. -- Buy Jill Bialosky Intruder from Amazon here. Buy Jill Bialosky Intruder from IndieBound here. Visit poem-a-day.knopfdoubleday.com for more about this poem and to sign up for Knopf's 2010 Poem-a-Day email. Excerpt from INTRUDER. Copyright © 2008 by Jill Bialosky. Excerpted by permission of Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. A Message from DailyLit Question of the Week: Describe (in 50 words or fewer) a time in your life when you experienced independence. Click here to share. Message from DailyLit Question of the Week: Describe (in 50 words or fewer) a time in your life when you experienced independence. Click here to share. Want more? Get the next installment right now. Ideas or questions? Discuss in our forums Need a break? Suspend delivery of this book. Want to adjust your reading schedule or make other changes? Manage all your settings.

Robin Hood (07 of 79) Posted: 03 Jul 2011 09:30 PM PDT 07 —of — 79 Robin Hood by J. Walker Mcspadden A Message from DailyLit Buy this book--or others--from Amazon and help support DailyLit SHARING We encourage sharing--forward to a friend! Chapter II: How Robin Hood Met Little John "I mind not telling you, fellow," said he, "that a bout with archery would have been an easier way with me. But there are other tunes in England besides that the arrow sings." Here he whirred the staff about his head by way of practice. "So make you ready for the tune I am about to play upon your ribs. Have at you! One, two—" "Three!" roared the giant smiting at him instantly. Well was it for Robin that he was quick and nimble of foot; for the blow that grazed a hair's breadth from his shoulder would have felled an ox. Nevertheless while swerving to avoid this stroke, Robin was poising for his own, and back came he forthwith—whack! Whack! parried the other. Whack! whack! whack! whack! The fight waxed fast and furious. It was strength pitted against subtlety, and the match was a merry one. The mighty blows of the stranger went whistling around Robin's ducking head, while his own swift undercuts were fain to give the other an attack of indigestion. Yet each stood firmly in his place not moving backward or forward a foot for a good half hour, nor thinking of crying "Enough!" though some chance blow seemed likely to knock one or the other off the narrow foot-bridge. The giant's face was getting red, and his breath came snorting forth like a bull's. He stepped forward with a furious onslaught to finish this audacious fellow. Robin dodged his blows lightly, then sprang in swiftly and unexpectedly and dealt the stranger such a blow upon the short ribs that you would have sworn the tanner was trimming down his hides for market. The stranger reeled and came within an ace of falling, but regained his footing right quickly. "By my life, you can hit hard!" he gasped forth, giving back a blow almost while he was yet staggering. This blow was a lucky one. It caught Robin off his guard. His stick had rested a moment while he looked to see the giant topple into the water, when down came the other upon his head, whack! Robin saw more stars in that one moment than all the astronomers have since discovered, and forthwith he dropped neatly into the stream. A Message from DailyLit Buy this book--or others--from Amazon and help support DailyLit Message from DailyLit Question of the Week: Describe (in 50 words or fewer) a time in your life when you experienced independence. Click here to share. Want more? Get the next installment right now. Ideas or questions? Discuss in our forums Need a break? Suspend delivery of this book. Want to adjust your reading schedule or make other changes? Manage all your settings.

Paranoia (007 of 170) Posted: 03 Jul 2011 09:30 PM PDT 007 —of — 170 Paranoia by Joseph Finder A Message from our Sponsor: Macmillan | Become a Sponsor COPYRIGHT Paranoia by Joseph Finder. Copyright 2004 by Joseph Finder. All Rights Reserved. Sharing not permitted. Part One: 3 (Cont'd) The note-taking woman reached for a Kleenex and blew her nose. She was glowering at Arnold Meacham now. Meacham winced. I whispered, "I just had to show him what he meant to me—what he meant to all of us. I guess like it was my own sort of Make-A-Wish Foundation. I told him—I told him I'd hit the trifecta at the track, I didn't want him to know or to worry or anything. I mean, believe me, what I did was wrong, totally wrong. It was wrong in a hundred different ways, I'm not going to bullshit you. But maybe in just one small way it was right." The woman reached for another Kleenex and looked at Meacham as if he were the scum of the earth. Meacham was looking down, flushed and unable to meet my gaze. I was giving myself chills. Then from the shadowed far end of the office I heard a door open and what sounded like clapping. Slow, loud clapping. It was Nicholas Wyatt, the founder and CEO of Wyatt Telecommunications. He approached as he clapped, smiling broadly. "Brilliant performance," he said. "Absolutely brilliant." I looked up, startled, then shook my head sorrowfully. Wyatt was a tall man, around six foot six, with a wrestler's build. He just got bigger and bigger as he got closer until, standing a few feet away from me, he seemed larger than life. Wyatt was known as a sharp dresser, and sure enough, he was wearing some kind of Armani-looking gray suit with a subtle pinstripe. He wasn't just powerful, he looked powerful. "Mr. Cassidy, let me ask you a question." I didn't know what to do, so I stood up, extended my hand to shake. Wyatt didn't shake my hand. "What's Jonesie's first name?" I hesitated, a beat too long. "Al," I finally said. "Al? As in—what?" "Al—Alan," I said. "Albert. Shit." Meacham stared at me. "Details, Cassidy," Wyatt said. "They'll fuck you over every time. But I have to say, you moved me—you really did. The part about the Salvation Army suit really got me right here." He tapped his chest with a fist. "Extraordinary." I grinned sheepishly, really feeling like a tool. "The guy here said to make it good." Wyatt smiled. "You're a supremely gifted young man, Cassidy. A goddamned Scheherazade. And I think we should have a talk." A Message from our Sponsor: Macmillan | Become a Sponsor Message from DailyLit Share the DailyLit experience. Click here to invite friends to read with you. Want more? Get the next installment right now. Ideas or questions? Discuss in our forums Need a break? Suspend delivery of this book. Want to adjust your reading schedule or make other changes? Manage all your settings.

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