The Corpse Had A Familiar Face

This classic by the Pulitzer Prize-winning author is her nonfiction masterpiece--a tale of life and death on Miami's streets, which she covered for 18 years for "The Miami Herald." Reissue.

A re-release of a classic work by the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of Cold Case Squad details events from her eighteen years of writing for The Miami Herald, from a father who murdered his comatose toddler to a Haitian who was knitted to death in a Hialeah factory. Reprint.

True stories of crime in Miami by the Pulitzer Prize–winning author of The Corpse Had a Familiar Face. Set against the neon backdrop of the South Florida city where Miami Herald reporter Edna Buchanan covered the police beat for nearly two decades, this memoir collects true tales of both heroes and villains—from the heartbreaking to the heartwarming to the outright hilarious. “A flurry of cases—of criminal Christmases, historic crimes, homicidal love, cop heroes, rescuers, odd occurrences (such as that of the barbiturate-soaked gunman who took 26 direct hits from cops’ guns and kept shooting until a 27th round took him down) . . . a generous bonanza for crime buffs, presented by one of the sharpest writers in the field.” —Kirkus Reviews

A Miami homicide detective closes in on a shattering secret in this police procedural from the Pulitzer Prize–winning “queen of crime” (USA Today). Nominated for the Edgar Award for Best First Novel What do a menacing housewife, a kinky bad girl, a shy child, and a cold-blooded killer have in common? Veteran Miami homicide detective Rick Barrish sets out for the answer as he investigates a series of seemingly unrelated murders in his own neighborhood and hunts down an elusive killer in a case that will hit closer to home than he ever expected. From the national bestselling author of The Corpse Had a Familiar Face and the Britt Montero series, Nobody Lives Forever is “[a] hard-hitting police procedural . . . Murders calculated and unprovoked; drug busts; robberies; the tensions between cops and criminals, rich and poor; and matters of love and hate all play out in Miami’s mean, middle-class or manicured neighborhoods . . . Buchanan conjures up a city both ordinary and exotic, and as vivid and colorful as her characters” (Publishers Weekly). “A stunning tour de force . . . Gripping drama.” —Library Journal

"Like all things good and bad in the world, it began with a woman..." And so begins the first chapter of Edna Buchanan's Cold Case Squad, a new suspense novel that features a special homicide unit that breathes new life into old cases. A man and a woman are shot dead at a strip club in Miami Beach. A few hours later, an explosion in a garage rocks a child's birthday party and burns a father of three to death. The murders go unsolved and the fire is chalked up to an accident. But was it an accident? Twelve years later, a blonde walks in to the Miami Police Department's Cold Case Squad -- which Buchanan fans will remember from The Ice Maiden -- and complains that she's been seeing her husband everywhere she goes. Trouble is, he's been dead for twelve years. In Buchanan's characteristic voice, "Some guys just don't know when to let go." As the Cold Case Squad unearths the details of the strip club deaths and the dead or missing father -- as well as the unsolved killings of a series of little old ladies -- readers get to know the three cops and their boss: veteran homicide detective Sergeant Craig Burch, whose marriage has turned into a case he can't solve; Detective Sam Stone, for whom the past will always be a mystery; Detective Pete Nazario, airlifted out of Cuba during "Operation Pedro Pan" in the 1960s; and Lieutenant K. C. Riley, for whom one case will never grow cold. Edna Buchanan has been thrilling readers since her Pulitzer Prize-winning stint as a crime reporter for The Miami Herald. The Chicago Tribune once raved that "few writers can touch Buchanan," to which The Washington Post Book World seemed to respond, "I doubt if anyone else is doing it better." In Cold Case Squad, Edna Buchanan, the woman the Los Angeles Daily News calls "the Queen of crime," delivers unlikely killers, near-perfect murders, and her most suspenseful novel yet.

A fictionalized history of the infamous, if little-known outside Florida, Prohibition-era gangster John Ashley and his moll, Laura Upthegrove.

Miami crime reporter Britt Montero investigates bizarre deaths, the unsolved sex murder of a little girl that could implicate the prime candidate in the race for governor, and a serial rapist who may have her on his list.

From Christi Daugherty, author of The Echo Killing, comes another pulse-pounding suspenseful thriller featuring crime reporter Harper McClain. For a woman, being killed by someone who claims to love her is the most ordinary murder of all. With its antebellum houses and ancient oak trees draped in a veil of Spanish moss, Savannah’s graceful downtown is famous around the world. When a woman is killed in the heart of that affluent district, the shock is felt throughout the city. But for crime reporter Harper McClain, this story is personal. The corpse has a familiar face. Only twenty-four years old, Naomi Scott was just getting started. A law student, tending bar to make ends meet, she wanted to change the world. Instead, her life ended in the dead of night at the hands of an unseen gunman. There are no witnesses to the crime. The police have three suspects: Scott’s boyfriend, who has a criminal past he claims he’s put behind him, her boss, who stalked another young bartender two years ago, and the district attorney’s son, who Naomi dated until their relationship ended in acrimony. All three men claim to love her. Could one of them be her killer? With the whole city demanding answers, Harper unravels a tangled story of obsession and jealousy. But the pressures on her go beyond the murder. The newspaper is facing more layoffs. Her boss fears both their jobs are on the line. And Harper begins to realize that someone is watching her every move. Someone familiar and very dangerous. Someone who told her to run before it’s too late...