{"product_id":"carrie-soto-is-back-isbn-9780593632109","title":"Carrie Soto Is Back","description":"\u003cb\u003e#1 \u003ci\u003eNEW YORK TIMES \u003c\/i\u003eBESTSELLER • “An epic adventure about a female athlete perhaps past her prime, brought back to the tennis court for one last grand slam” (\u003ci\u003eElle\u003c\/i\u003e), from the author of \u003ci\u003eMalibu Rising, Daisy Jones \u0026amp; The Six,\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eThe Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A heart-filled novel about an iconic and persevering father and daughter.”—\u003ci\u003eTime\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Gorgeous. The kind of sharp, smart, potent book you have to set aside every few pages just to catch your breath. I’ll take a piece of Carrie Soto forward with me in life and be a little better for it.”—Emily Henry, author of \u003ci\u003eBook Lovers\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eBeach Read\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR: \u003ci\u003eTime, \u003c\/i\u003eNPR,\u003ci\u003e PopSugar, Glamour, Reader’s Digest\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCarrie Soto is fierce, and her determination to win at any cost has not made her popular. But by the time she retires from tennis, she is the best player the world has ever seen. She has shattered every record and claimed twenty Grand Slam titles. And if you ask Carrie, she is entitled to every one. She sacrificed nearly everything to become the best, with her father, Javier, as her coach. A former champion himself, Javier has trained her since the age of two.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut six years after her retirement, Carrie finds herself sitting in the stands of the 1994 US Open, watching her record be taken from her by a brutal, stunning player named Nicki Chan.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAt thirty-seven years old, Carrie makes the monumental decision to come out of retirement and be coached by her father for one last year in an attempt to reclaim her record. Even if the sports media says that they never liked “the Battle-Axe” anyway. Even if her body doesn’t move as fast as it did. And even if it means swallowing her pride to train with a man she once almost opened her heart to: Bowe Huntley. Like her, he has something to prove before he gives up the game forever.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn spite of it all, Carrie Soto is back, for one epic final season. In this riveting and unforgettable novel, Taylor Jenkins Reid tells her most vulnerable, emotional story yet.“The books in Reid’s famous women quartet stand alone. . . . But each of the books centers a vibrant protagonist managing the tensions between her glamorous life in the public eye and the pressures she feels in private . . . with Reid meticulously collecting minute yet meaningful details to help build immersive worlds”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eTime\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eCarrie Soto\u003c\/i\u003e [\u003ci\u003eIs Back\u003c\/i\u003e] . . . is like other sports novels in which underdogs punch, volley, bat and birdie their way to victory or additional defeat, but it goes beyond this to explore sexism and racism in the tennis world in the 1990s. . . . This novel will grab you. You’ll tear through blow-by-blow descriptions of championship matches on some of the most famous tennis courts in the world. . . .”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Washington Post\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An epic story about bravery, endurance, but also the power of vulnerability.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eBuzzFeed\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e“Reid . . . draws on the lives of actual tennis pros (think Serena, Sharapova) to build a world of believable rivalries and intrigue infused with the whiplash suspense of a nail-biting tennis match.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePeople\u003c\/i\u003e (Book of the Week)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Nearly every Taylor Jenkins Reid novel reads like a survey course in some flagrantly glamorous specialty and era. . . . Come for the \u003ci\u003eKing Richard\u003c\/i\u003e–level attention to the art of the game; stay for the more personal soap operas unfolding off the court, and the final score.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eEntertainment Weekly\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Taylor Jenkins Reid’s latest is set in the world of the tennis elite, following a ruthless former champion who—after losing her record to a rising star—decides to come out of retirement at 37 in order to reclaim her title. It’s seriously inspiring.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eCosmopolitan\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Reid writes about the game with suspense, transforming a tennis match into a page-turner even for readers who don’t care about sports. . . . A compulsively readable look at female ambition.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews \u003c\/i\u003e(starred review)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Reid has written another knockout of a book.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eLibrary Journal\u003c\/i\u003e (starred review)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Reid captures the excitement of elite sports in her descriptions of Carrie’s games, as well as the struggle that women athletes face when their ambition and confidence is ‘too much.’ It’s another triumph for bestselling author Reid, and her growing number of fans . . . ”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eBooklist \u003c\/i\u003e(starred review)\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Another ace by Taylor Jenkins Reid, straight to the baseline! . . . An immersive delight.”\u003cb\u003e—Emma Straub\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eTaylor Jenkins Reid\u003c\/b\u003e is the #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of eight novels, including \u003ci\u003eCarrie Soto Is Back, Malibu Rising, Daisy Jones \u0026amp; The Six,\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eThe Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo\u003c\/i\u003e. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband and their daughter.\u003cb\u003eUS Open\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSeptember 1994\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy entire life’s work rests on the outcome of this match.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy father, Javier, and I sit front row center at Flushing Meadows, the sidelines just out of reach. The linesmen stand with their arms behind their backs on either side of the court. Straight in front of us, the umpire presides over the crowd high in his chair. The ball girls crouch low, ready to sprint at a moment’s notice.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis is the third set. Nicki Chan took the first, and Ingrid Cortez squeaked out the second. This last one will determine the winner.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy father and I watch—­along with the twenty thousand others in the stadium—­as Nicki Chan approaches the baseline. She bends her knees and steadies herself. Then she rises onto her toes, tosses the ball in the air, and with a snap of her wrist sends a blistering serve at 126 miles per hour toward Ingrid Cortez’s backhand.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCortez returns it with startling power. It falls just inside the line. Nicki isn’t able to get to it. Point Cortez.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI let my eyes close and exhale.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Cuidado. The cameras are watching our reactions,” my father says through gritted teeth. He’s wearing one of his many panama hats, his curly silver hair creeping out the back.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Dad, everyone’s watching our reactions.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNicki Chan has won two Slam titles this year already—­the Australian Open and the French Open. If she wins this match, she’ll tie my lifetime record of twenty Grand Slam singles titles. I set that record back in 1987, when I won Wimbledon for the ninth time and established myself as the greatest tennis player of all time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNicki’s particular style of play—­brash and loud, played almost exclusively from the baseline, with incredible violence to her serves and groundstrokes—­has enabled her to dominate women’s tennis over the past five years. But when she was starting out on the WTA tour back in the late eighties, I found her to be an unremarkable opponent. Good on a clay court, perhaps, but I could beat her handily on her home turf of London.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThings changed after I retired in 1989. Nicki began racking up Slams at an alarming rate. Now she’s at my heels.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy jaw tenses as I watch her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy father looks at me, his face placid. “I’m saying that the photographers are trying to get a shot of you looking angry, or rooting against her.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI am wearing a black sleeveless shirt and jeans. A pair of tortoiseshell Oliver Peoples sunglasses. My hair is down. At almost thirty-­seven, I look as good as I’ve ever looked, in my opinion. So let them take as many pictures as they want.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What did I always tell you in junior championships?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Don’t let it show on your face.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Exacto, hija.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIngrid Cortez is a seventeen-­year-­old Spanish player who has surprised almost everyone with her quick ascent up the rankings. Her style is a bit like Nicki’s—­powerful, loud—­but she plays her angles more. She’s surprisingly emotional on the court. She hits a scorcher of an ace past Nicki and hollers with glee.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You know, maybe it’s Cortez who’s going to stop her,” I say.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy father shakes his head. “Lo dudo.” He barely moves his lips when he talks, his eye consciously avoiding the camera. I have no doubt that tomorrow morning, my father will open the paper and scan the sports pages looking for his photo. He will smile to himself when he sees that he looks nothing short of handsome. Although he lost weight earlier this year from the rounds of chemo he endured, he is cancer-­free now. His body has bounced back. His color looks good.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs the sun beats down on his face, I hand him a tube of sunscreen. He squints and shakes his head, as if it is an insult to us both.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Cortez got one good one in,” my father says. “But Nicki saves her power for the third set.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy pulse quickens. Nicki hits three winners in a row, takes the game. It’s now 3–­3 in the third set.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy father looks at me, lowering his glasses so I can see his eyes. “Entonces, what are you going to do?” he asks.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI look away. “I don’t know.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe puts his glasses back on and looks at the court, giving me a small nod. “Well, if you do nothing, that is what you are doing. Nothing.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sí, papá, I got it.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNicki serves wide. Cortez runs and scrambles to catch it on the rise, but it flies into the net.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI look at my father. He wears a slight frown.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn the players’ box, Cortez’s coach is hunched over in his seat, his hands cupping his face.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNicki doesn’t have a coach. She left her last one almost three years ago and has taken six Slams since then without anyone’s guidance.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy dad makes a lot of cracks about players who don’t have coaches. But with Nicki, he seems to withhold judgment.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCortez is bent over, holding her hand down on her hips and trying to catch her breath. Nicki doesn’t let up. She fires off another serve across the court. Cortez takes off running but misses it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNicki smiles.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI know that smile. I’ve been here before.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOn the next point, Nicki takes the game.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Dammit,” I say at the changeover.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy father raises his eyebrows. “Cortez crumbles as soon as she doesn’t control the court. And Nicki knows it.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Nicki’s powerful,” I say. “But she’s also hugely adaptable. When you play her, you’re playing somebody who is adjusting on the fly, tailoring their game to your specific weakness.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy father nods.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Every player has a weak spot,” I say. “And Nicki is great at finding it.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Right.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“So what’s hers?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy father is now holding back a smile. He lifts his drink and takes a sip.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What?” I ask.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Nothing,” my father says.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I haven’t made a decision.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“All right.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBoth players head back out onto the court.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Nicki is just a tiny bit slow,” I say, watching her walk to the baseline. “She has a lot of power, but she’s not fast—­not in her footwork or her shot selection. She’s not quite as quick as Cortez, even today. But especially not as quick as Moretti, Antonovich, even Perez.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Or you,” my father says. “There’s nobody on the tour right now who is as fast as you were. Not just with your feet, but with your head, también.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI nod.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe continues. “I’m talking about getting into position, taking the ball out of the air early, taking the pace off so Nicki can’t hit it back with that power. Nobody on the tour is doing that. Not like you did.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’d have to meet her power, though,” I tell him. “And somehow still maintain speed.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Which will not be easy.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Not at my age and not with my knee,” I say. “I don’t have the jumps I used to have.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Es verdad,” my father says. “It will take everything you have to give.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“If I did it,” I say.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy father rolls his eyes but then swiftly paints another false smile on his face.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI laugh. “Honestly, who cares if they get a picture of you frowning?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I’m staying off your back,” my father says. “You stay off mine. ¿Lo entendés, hija?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI laugh again. “Sí, lo entiendo, papá.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNicki takes the next game too. One more and it’s over. She’ll tie my record.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy temples begin to pound as I envision it all unfolding. Cortez is not going to stave off Nicki Chan, not today. And I’m stuck up here in the seats. I have to sit here and watch Nicki take away everything I’ve worked for.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Who’s going to coach me?” I say. “You?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy father does not look at me, but I can see his shoulders stiffen. He takes a breath, chooses his words.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“That’s for you to answer,” he finally says. “It’s not my choice to make.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“So, what? I’m gonna call up Lars?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You are going to do whatever you want to do, pichona,” my father says. “That is how adulthood works.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe is going to make me beg. And I deserve it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCortez is busting her ass to make the shots. But she’s tired. You can see it in the way her legs shake when she’s standing still. She nets a return. It’s now 30–­love.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMotherf***er.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI look around at the crowd. People are leaning forward; some are tapping their fingers. Every one of them seems to be breathing a little faster. I can only imagine what the sportscasters are saying.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe spectators sitting around us are looking at my father and me out of the corner of their eyes, watching my reaction. I’m starting to feel caged.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“If I do it . . .” I say softly. “I want you to coach me. That’s what I’m saying, Dad.”Author of Malibu Rising and Daisy Jones \u0026amp; The Six #1 New York Times bestseller","brand":"Random House Large Print","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302904877285,"sku":"NP9780593632109","price":30.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593632109.jpg?v=1767723435","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/carrie-soto-is-back-isbn-9780593632109","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}