Charlie, Presumed Dead by Anne Heltzel (English) Paperback Book

Description: Charlie, Presumed Dead by Anne Heltzel In this thrilling tale of suspense and deception, two girlsare shocked to discover theyve both been dating the same boy when they show up at his funeral. What else dont they know about Charlie Price?As they travel from Paris, toLondon, to Mumbai to Bangkok, the girls try to figure out Charlies secrets but soon discover they are harboring secrets of their own. This page-turning psychological mystery will engulf teen fans of Gillian Flynn andGossip Girl. FORMAT Paperback LANGUAGE English CONDITION Brand New Publisher Description In Paris, family and friends gather to mourn the tragic passing of Charlie Price--young, handsome, charming, a world-traveler--who is presumed dead after an explosion. Authorities find only a bloodied jacket, IDd as Charlies. At the funeral, two teens who are perfect strangers, Lena Whitney and Aubrey Boroughs, make another shocking discovery: they have both been dating Charlie, both think Charlie loved them and them alone, and there is a lot they didnt know about their boyfriend. Over the next week, a mind-bending trip unfolds: first in London--then in Mumbai, Kerala, and Bangkok, the girls go in search of Charlie. Is he still alive? What did their love for him even mean? The truth is out there, but soon it becomes clear that the girls are harboring secrets of their own. No one knows whom to trust in this thrilling tale of suspense and deception. Author Biography Anne Heltzel was born in Ohio and earned her MFA from the New School. Shes written two other novels: Circle Nine and The Ruining (published under Anna Collomore). Anne is a book editor who lives in Brooklyn. Visit her website at Review "If the perfect summer book makes your heart race and your pulse pound, weve got some page-turners for you." --Entertainment Weeklys 10 Great Thrillers for Your Beach Reading List "A trippy, globetrotting mysterious adventure, this is a twisty and fun read." --RT Book Reviews "Like Amelia Anne Is Dead and Gone, the characters are not who they seem; like We Were Liars, the truth is masked by delusion." --BookPage "A compelling read, one that will provoke adventure-lust, a need to experience the strange, the fearful, and the unknown." --Boston Globe "A creepy, thrilling tangled web of book. I couldnt put it down. Anne Heltzel has written two bold, complicated young women as they embark on an adventure through Europe and Asia, unraveling the disappearance of their shared boyfriend, Charlie (presumed dead). Their mystery is everybodys mystery at some point, whether we like it or not: Who is this person Im dating and what are they hiding?" --David Iserson, author of Firecracker "Buckle in tight. Charlie, Presumed Dead is a mystery wrapped in a puzzle strapped in a roller coaster. Full of compelling characters and exotic settings, this dark and twisty thrill ride kept me up late and kept me guessing." --Fiona Paul, author of the Eternal Rose trilogy "So twisty and devious that I couldnt stop turning the pages, Charlie Presumed Dead is also a story with heart. I was fascinated by the unfolding of an unlikely friendship between two very different young women who become a force to be reckoned with. I loved it." --Marie Rutkoski, author of The Winners Curse "An edgy thriller that keeps the guesses coming until the last word." --Kirkus "As the layers of each characters duplicity are carefully revealed, the unearthing of blackmail, revenge, red herrings, and more makes for a thrilling and immersive tale of manipulation as wily as Charlie himself." --Publishers Weekly "Travel descriptions and fast-paced writing sprinkled with intrigue and horror spin this story forward at an enjoyable pace. Teen suspense fans will be satisfied with the Gone Girl-esque feeling of the work." --School Library Journal "Teens shouldnt come here looking for a happy ending or even justice delivered but for a creepy race toward a bone-wracking shudder." --Bulletin -- Review Quote "If the perfect summer book makes your heart race and your pulse pound, weve got some page-turners for you." --Entertainment Weeklys 10 Great Thrillers for Your Beach Reading List "A trippy, globetrotting mysterious adventure, this is a twisty and fun read." --RT Book Reviews "Like Amelia Anne Is Dead and Gone, the characters are not who they seem; like We Were Liars, the truth is masked by delusion." --BookPage "A compelling read, one that will provoke adventure-lust, a need to experience the strange, the fearful, and the unknown." --Boston Globe "A creepy, thrilling tangled web of book. I couldnt put it down. Anne Heltzel has written two bold, complicated young women as they embark on an adventure through Europe and Asia, unraveling the disappearance of their shared boyfriend, Charlie (presumed dead). Their mystery is everybodys mystery at some point, whether we like it or not: Who is this person Im dating and what are they hiding?" --David Iserson, author of Firecracker "Buckle in tight. Charlie, Presumed Dead is a mystery wrapped in a puzzle strapped in a roller coaster. Full of compelling characters and exotic settings, this dark and twisty thrill ride kept me up late and kept me guessing." --Fiona Paul, author of the Eternal Rose trilogy "So twisty and devious that I couldnt stop turning the pages, Charlie Presumed Dead is also a story with heart. I was fascinated by the unfolding of an unlikely friendship between two very different young women who become a force to be reckoned with. I loved it." --Marie Rutkoski, author of The Winners Curse "An edgy thriller that keeps the guesses coming until the last word." --Kirkus "As the layers of each characters duplicity are carefully revealed, the unearthing of blackmail, revenge, red herrings, and more makes for a thrilling and immersive tale of manipulation as wily as Charlie himself." --Publishers Weekly "Travel descriptions and fast-paced writing sprinkled with intrigue and horror spin this story forward at an enjoyable pace. Teen suspense fans will be satisfied with the Gone Girl-esque feeling of the work." --School Library Journal "Teens shouldnt come here looking for a happy ending or even justice delivered but for a creepy race toward a bone-wracking shudder." --Bulletin Excerpt from Book 1 Aubrey The girl with the shimmery tights and fringed, calf-high boots is staring in my direction again. She looks like shes been crying for days now. Exactly twelve, if I were to guess--because thats the time thats passed between now and the day Charlie went missing. Its been twelve days since he took his parents Cessna for a joyride--ten since initial debris from the wreckage was found in the North Sea off the coast of Durham, where the Prices have an estate. No one knows why he took the plane out; hed never done it before, and he didnt have a license. But the bits of recovered debris have convinced police that the plane exploded. They think it happened in the air, before the plane went down--some sort of fuel leak. Now Charlie is presumed dead. The girls eyes are a startling blue against the blotchy skin of her face; they stand out even from all the way across the room. Shes in the foyer, a few feet north of the entrance to the actual room where were supposed to pay our respects. She leans up against a faux wood table while I stand opposite, nearer to the buildings entrance. The table is the foldaway kind they use in cheap offices and cafeterias, and it looks like the girl needs it to support her frame. The table itself buckles a little under her weight, giving the impression that one of them--it or her--is about to collapse. Her black leather jacket has zippered sleeves, and her hair is the kind of blond thats almost white. Its long and wavy like a fairys or maybe an elf s, and it floats in a halo around her bloated red face. Its difficult to look at her grief. Seeing it makes it harder to force back my own. Im chewing on some gum. Its my worst habit when Im anxious, and Ive been feeling frayed for the past few months at least. Im putting off the moment when Ill have to walk inside the main room, where the service is being held. I can tell shes doing the same. Its in her body language: the way she pushes her heels against the floor and leans back. I wonder who she is and why she doesnt look familiar. I think about how maybe shes a cousin--maybe Kate, Charlies moms sisters daughter. Kate had straight brown hair in the picture he showed me, but people go through changes; they do funny things with boxes of hair dye and curling irons and magenta lipstick. I look inside the room that contains Charlies empty casket, and the pit in my stomach deepens and twists. My eyes dart back to the girl, and I have to make efforts not to stare too hard. I watch her resist as an older woman tugs at her wrist and pulls her in the direction of the larger room. Strains of tinny classical music emanating from overhead speakers surround me. My jaw opens and closes rhythmically around my wintergreen gum. Its beginning to lose its flavor. The girl turns toward me again, staring hard. She meets my eyes, and in that brief second I realize: I could be looking into a mirror. My messy dark hair, cut short with bangs, is the opposite of the ethereal image she projects. I wince. I hate looking at my reflection. I havent been able to look at myself for months now without feeling sick inside. But I can tell without having to look that my eyes are puffy like hers; my shoulders droop in the same way; my guilt and grief are in evidence all over me, just like hers. More people are filtering in. There are lots of official government-looking types, probably Charlies dads colleagues--hes a British diplomat. Hundreds of people have come to Paris for the memorial. Even though his dad moved around every couple of years, they always kept a home here. Charlie said they considered it home base, since its where most of the extended family lives. Someone must have turned up the sound system, because the music is suddenly drowning out everyones soft murmurs. I cant explain why the girls gaze is making me uncomfortable, or why mine keeps returning to her face with magnetic force. Im jet-lagged and my whole face feels heavy from crying. My boyfriend is presumed dead and Im alone in Paris for the first time ever. I could be on another planet for how strange it all feels. I slip into a group of people who look about my age--a guy in a blue blazer and a girl in a black shift dress who are entering with some older people, probably their parents--and follow them from the foyer into the main room. The room is bare despite all the fancy architectural finishes that Im beginning to recognize are common in Paris: ornate moldings in the shape of flowers, swoops and swirls fashioned from plaster. Other than that, its a modestly decorated space with just a photo display set up in one corner, a bunch of folding chairs facing a podium, and a projector screen up front. Charlies casket is next to the podium. My heart accelerates at the sight of it, and I blink back the tears that threaten to obscure my vision. I realize with a pang that I really dont know any of Charlies friends, not personally. I met his old roommate Adam from his senior year in Mumbai, when I visited Charlie once in D.C.--but I dont see Adam here now. I cant tell whether Im disappointed or relieved. Everyone else I only knew from pictures; Adam would have been someone to lean on during all of this. At least someone to know--to legitimize my presence here. When I first met Adam, it was a comfort to know that Charlie was friends with such a good guy. Knowing Adam was Charlies friend--when we didnt have any friends in common who could vouch for him--had made me rest easy. I didnt even know about Charlies disappearance or the memorial service until three days ago. A week before that, I had noticed he wasnt answering my texts. He always took a little time, sometimes forgot to get back; so it didnt seem unusual for that first week. And then my texts and calls became more panicked, and he still didnt reply. Charlie wasnt on Facebook or Twitter. I didnt have his parents numbers. Then I got the news blast in my email from the local paper in Oxford, something Charlie had suggested I sign up for. And there it was: "University Student Missing," one of the first headlines on the list. The student in question was unnamed. After that, there was nothing I could do but Google him. Id hoped to find some phone numbers, someone I could contact. I found a more detailed article instead. It still hurts, knowing that after a year, no one knew me well enough to reach out. It hurts that I found out the way I did. That I almost missed the service altogether. But why would I know any body? I only knew Adam. Charlie and I always met up at such random places, spots that were in between Chicago and Oxford and easy for both of us to reach. He paid for most of those trips, and I saved up for the rest with my babysitting money. My parents werent too happy about it. None of it ever seemed strange to me. But now, looking around and seeing all the people who knew Charlie--all the people I dont know--I wonder how I didnt see it before. He was meeting me in the middle, but also holding me at arms length. I can feel the fairy-elf s eyes on my back as I pass the row of chairs where she sits. The room is mostly filled. Its so big it could be a concert venue. Theres a slideshow of Charlies face flashing across the front of the room. I look at his eyes and cant accept that this is all thats left of him. Its hard to comprehend what his memorial service really means. All I can feel is that hes not here . But hes never been present for me the way other people are readily available to one another. Charlie is road trips with pit stops at the Mars Cheese Castle and weekends away in New York City. Hes not breakfast, lunch, and dinner or anything else regular. He never has been. I walk over to the photo display, keeping his mother and father in my periphery. I havent met Charlies parents, and I cant help feeling that now isnt the moment to introduce myself. I wrote them a letter the minute I discovered Charlie was missing, shortly after the news reports started making their way around the Internet. They would have received the letter by now. But hes no longer just missing--hes presumed dead. As of four days ago--when more wreckage was found off the coast of Durham--the investigation was closed. His body hasnt been recovered and no one knows what really happened when the plane went down; but between plane debris and the charred and bloodstained remnants of his navy Oxford blazer--still marked with an engraved class pin--there was finally enough physical evidence to shut the investigation down. All that was missing was a reason and a body. A short blurb in the Oxford Times mentioned the discoveries, and it wasnt even on the front page. Closed just like that, with a memorial service thrown together so quickly it barely left me time to get out here from Chicago. I cant figure out why and how his family could give up on him so quickly. His mom is crying hysterically, and some of my resentment melts. I notice the elfin girl from the foyer sidle over; she gives Mrs. Price a long hug and whispers something in her ear. I feel a sharp pang of something like discomfort for reasons I dont understand. I turn back to the pictures, chalking it up to grief and exhaustion--Im not thinking clearly. Charlie sparkles in every shot, his dark hair flopping ac Description for Bookstore Hardcover edition: $17.99 CL/$22.99 CAN ISBN 978-0-544-38849-9 Details ISBN0544668693 Author Anne Heltzel Short Title CHARLIE PRESUMED DEAD Pages 272 Language English ISBN-10 0544668693 ISBN-13 9780544668690 Media Book Format Paperback DEWEY FIC Year 2016 Publication Date 2016-04-12 Country of Publication United States AU Release Date 2016-04-12 NZ Release Date 2016-04-12 US Release Date 2016-04-12 UK Release Date 2016-04-12 Audience Age 14 Publisher Clarion Books Imprint Clarion Books Audience Teenage / Young adult Imprint US Clarion Books Publisher US HarperCollins We've got this At The Nile, if you're looking for it, we've got it. With fast shipping, low prices, friendly service and well over a million items - you're bound to find what you want, at a price you'll love! TheNile_Item_ID:138856197;

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