{"product_id":"killer-choice-isbn-9780399586422","title":"Killer Choice","description":"\u003cb\u003e“\u003cb\u003eTerrific…full of shocks and twists you won’t see coming—unputdownable and highly recommended\u003c\/b\u003e!”—\u003cb\u003eLee Child, #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe electrifying debut thriller that asks the question: To save the one you love, is there any price you wouldn’t pay?\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eHis wife is sick.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e He needs $200,000 to save her.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e A mysterious man offers to give him the money with just one catch: He has to murder someone to get it.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gary Foster’s life is finally heading in the right direction. After years of trying, his wife, Beth, is pregnant, and he recently opened a business with his brother. But one phone call changes everything.... \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e After collapsing suddenly, Beth has been rushed to the hospital. Tests reveal a devastating diagnosis: an inoperable brain tumor. Their only hope is an expensive experimental treatment available abroad, with a cost that’s out of their reach. And Beth’s time is running out.... \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Then a strange man approaches Gary and offers the money he needs, on one condition: that he kill someone, no questions asked. End one life to save another.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e In this nail-biting debut novel of domestic suspense, one man makes a choice that forces him to confront the darkest reaches of his soul and betray those closest to him. As he’s swept up in a nightmare of escalating violence, he must question his own morality—and determine just how far he’s willing to go to save the woman he loves.“\u003cb\u003eA promising debut with a Hitchcockian hook, \u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003eKiller Choice\u003c\/i\u003e is\u003cb\u003e \u003cb\u003ea terrific, cinematic read from a new writer to watch\u003c\/b\u003e.”—\u003c\/b\u003eWilliam Landay, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eDefending Jacob\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"\u003cb\u003e[An] outstanding domestic suspense debut\u003c\/b\u003e...In the harrowing tale that follows, the readers are craftily put in the position of considering what extremes they would go to... \u003cb\u003eRecommended for fans of fast-paced thrillers that pose moral dilemmas (Lee Child, Harlan Coben, Joseph Finder). A real nail-biter\u003c\/b\u003e.\"—\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eBooklist \u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003e(starred review\u003c\/b\u003e)\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “\u003cb\u003eFans of Harlan Coben or Mary Kubica will want to add this promising author to their lineup of favorites\u003c\/b\u003e.”—\u003ci\u003eLibrary Journal\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"\u003cb\u003e[E]xciting, thought-provoking, and just plain fun to read....KILLER CHOICE features a brilliant concept,\u003c\/b\u003e and Tom Hunt excels at translating raw emotions onto the page. \u003cb\u003eThere’s a handful of very solid debuts coming out in 2018, and this is definitely one of them.\"—The Real Book Spy\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eKiller Choice\u003c\/i\u003e is \u003cb\u003ea sharply-crafted debut thriller that fans of Harlan Coben will devour. \u003c\/b\u003eTom Hunt masterfully ratchets the suspense until your fingers can’t turn the pages fast enough.”—Grant Blackwood, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eTom Clancy Duty and Honor\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003cb\u003eA thrilling, masterful debut\u003c\/b\u003e. Yes, \u003cb\u003ethe plot moves quickly and furiously, with twists and turns until the very last pages\u003c\/b\u003e. But the book’s real strengths are its \u003cb\u003erich characters and vivid writing. \u003c\/b\u003eThis is \u003cb\u003ea fast, powerful, agonizing read, impossible to put down\u003c\/b\u003e.”—David Bell, bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eBring Her Home\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eKiller Choice\u003c\/i\u003e ensnares the reader in a\u003cb\u003e complex and chilling \u003c\/b\u003eplot, forcing you to consider your own humanity and answer the ultimate question: just how far would you go when faced with the impossible? \u003cb\u003eEach twist and turn wraps the reader in a tighter coil\u003c\/b\u003e until you're racing to the end so you can take a breath once again. \u003cb\u003eThis debut thriller is not to be missed\u003c\/b\u003e.”—Graham Brown, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling co-author of \u003ci\u003eNighthawk\u003c\/i\u003e (with Clive Cussler)           \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003cb\u003eTom Hunt’s debut speeds along like the best of Lee Child\u003c\/b\u003e, and takes dark turns that would make Dean Koontz proud. \u003ci\u003eKiller Choice\u003c\/i\u003e is \u003cb\u003ea harrowing ride into desperation\u003c\/b\u003e, and Tom Hunt is a writer to watch.”—Jonathan Moore, award-nominated author of \u003ci\u003eThe Dark Room \u003c\/i\u003eand \u003ci\u003eThe Poison Artist\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e “With a premise torn from the pages of a psychology textbook and \u003cb\u003ea furious cascade of twists,\u003c\/b\u003e \u003ci\u003eKiller Choice\u003c\/i\u003e is \u003cb\u003ea lightning-fast ride that’ll keep you guessing until the end.\u003c\/b\u003e You can go ahead and throw away your bookmark now. \u003cb\u003eThis is a one-sit read.”—\u003c\/b\u003eBrad Parks, author of \u003ci\u003eSay Nothing\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e   \u003cbr\u003e “\u003cb\u003eA riveting thriller about the lengths a man will go to save the woman he loves. A twisting, spiraling ride with an ending that hits you in the gut \u003c\/b\u003eand makes you think about love, death and the limits of forgiveness. \u003cb\u003eA fantastic debut!\u003c\/b\u003e”—Jamie Freveletti, international bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eDead Asleep\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cb\u003eTom Hunt\u003c\/b\u003e is an award-winning advertising copywriter. He has worked for some of the nation’s largest and best-known agencies, including J. Walter Thompson and Saatchi \u0026amp; Saatchi. \u003ci\u003eKiller Choice\u003c\/i\u003e is his first novel.1\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Twenty minutes after receiving the worst phone call of his life,      Gary Foster pulled his Corolla into the parking lot of McCann      Medical Center. He followed the signs directing him to the      emergency room and came to a stop in an open stall, slamming on      the brakes hard enough to momentarily lock his seat belt.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He turned off the car.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Threw open the car door.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Sprinted to the ER entrance.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Inside, three women in green scrubs stood behind the check-in      counter. Gary stared at them for a moment, heart thundering in his      chest, every muscle in his thirty-nine-year-old body tight with      tension.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Someone just called me about my wife,\" he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The oldest of the group, a woman with cropped black hair who      looked to be in her fifties, stepped out from behind the counter.      She asked for Gary's name, then identified herself as Abby      Fredrickson, the caller. Gary followed her to an empty nearby      waiting area and sat down next to her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Right now, we don't know much more than what I told you on the      phone,\" Abby said. She lightly touched Gary's knee. \"Your wife was      at Town Shoppe Mall. Apparently, she just collapsed and started      convulsing. Someone called nine-one-one and she was brought here      by an ambulance. She was conscious when she arrived and she's      undergoing tests right now.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gary slowly shook his head. Not even a half hour ago, he'd      received the call. He'd been working at the outdoor-clothing      retailer he owned with his brother, Rod-just a normal afternoon at      the store, spent putting away inventory and helping the occasional      customer-when his cell phone rang, displaying a local 989 Michigan      number, one he didn't recognize. Pure terror had settled over him      like a suffocating blanket as he listened to the story of his      wife's-Beth's-sudden collapse. After the call, he drove straight      to McCann Medical Center.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"What . . .\" Gary said. The word trailed off. He swallowed and      felt his Adam's apple bob in his throat. \"What happened?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Beth collapsed at the ma-\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I know,\" he said. \"But why?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Abby shook her head and shrugged. \"We'll know more after the      testing.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Can I see her?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"She's having a CT scan right now. You can see her once she's      finished. It should only be a few minutes.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gary opened his mouth but no words came. He ran a hand through his      thinning brown hair and massaged his temples, pausing for a moment      to compose himself.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He just wanted to be alone, wanted to absorb this horrific news in      private. But there was one final question he needed to ask, one      question he had to have an answer to.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Abby?\" Gary said. He paused, glanced down at his hands, unable to      look her in the eye. \"The doctors know Beth is pregnant, right?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yes,\" she said. \"They noticed the baby bump right away.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Is the baby . . .\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"We don't know. We'll know more soon. I'm sorry.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gary slumped down farther in the chair and exhaled. He could not      comprehend how his life had been upended in such a short amount of      time. \"Let me know when you hear from the doctors,\" he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Of course. Please come get me if you have more questions,\" Abby      said. She walked back to the check-in counter.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gary stared out the window at the light snowflakes lazily falling      in the parking lot, accumulating on the pavement, sprinkling the      windshields of parked cars with an early-March dusting. He saw his      reflection in the glass; his face was numb with fatigue, his eyes      distant. It was the expression of a man who'd had his soul      crushed, the look of a man who could do nothing but helplessly      wait to find out whether the unthinkable had happened.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gary waited an agonizing five minutes until a doctor wearing green      scrubs approached him. He had black hair, and the short sleeves on      the scrubs revealed small, wiry forearms. Not young, but young for      a doctor-mid-thirties or so.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Gary, I'm Dr. Simpson,\" he said, shaking Gary's hand. \"I'm the ER      doc on duty.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gary followed Dr. Simpson through a set of double doors. Down a      long, dark hallway. After fifteen seconds that felt more like      fifteen minutes, Dr. Simpson stopped in front of an open door,      Patient Room 121, and motioned for Gary to enter. Gary said a      silent prayer-the third prayer he'd said since receiving the phone      call-and stepped inside.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It was a small room with beige walls and no windows. An anatomy      poster depicting the muscles of the human body was taped on the      wall above a small desk. In the middle of the room was a hospital      bed, elevated at a slight incline. Sitting on the edge of the bed,      her legs crossed and hands resting in her lap, was his wife.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Beth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She wore a loose hospital gown that covered her petite,      ramrod-straight body. Her light brunette hair was pulled back into      a ponytail, revealing the delicate features of her face. Gary      rushed to the bed, leaned over, and hugged her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It's so great to see you,\" she whispered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Blinking back tears, Gary ran his hands over her hair and rubbed      her back through the thin fabric of the gown. He held her for a      moment longer, then sat down on the bed beside her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Dr. Simpson pulled a stool from under the desk and dragged it over      to them. \"What have you been told so far, Gary?\" he asked as he      sat down.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gary reached over and grabbed Beth's hand, squeezed hard. \"All I      know is that Beth collapsed and was rushed here.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"She was fully conscious and cognizant when she arrived,\" Dr.      Simpson said. \"After a few tests determined she was in no      immediate danger, we performed an ultrasound. Your baby boy's      heart rate is strong and within the expected limits, and      everything on the ultrasound looked fine. He wasn't harmed in the      fall.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gary looked down at the basketball-sized bump protruding against      Beth's hospital gown. Only six months ago, they'd found out about      the pregnancy. After years of failed attempts, they'd accepted      that starting a family through traditional means just wasn't going      to happen. They'd started looking into adoption, possibly from      China. But when Gary returned home from a long day at the store      last September and Beth greeted him by handing him a positive      pregnancy test, they'd danced around and celebrated like      teenagers. It had been the most surprising, euphoric moment of      their marriage.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Our goal now is to figure out why this happened,\" Dr. Simpson      continued. \"Blood pressure will often rise and fall dramatically      during pregnancy, and that can cause light-headedness, even      fainting. But this was more than a dizzy spell. According to      witnesses, Beth's entire body was convulsing when she collapsed.      To try to learn what caused this, we'd like to perform a few more      tests and scans.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gary looked over at Beth. She stared back and slowly nodded her      head-clearly, she'd already been told all of this.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'm sorry, but the only advice I can give you now is to stay      positive until we have some answers,\" Dr. Simpson said. \"We'll      expedite Beth's results and should know more in a few hours.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gary closed his eyes. Paused. Took a moment to let it all sink in.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I realize this is a lot to hear,\" Dr. Simpson said. \"Do you have      any questions for me?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Gary opened his eyes and blankly stared at Dr. Simpson. Questions?      Only about a million of them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e As Gary Foster and his wife waited in the hospital, a man halfway      across the city nervously paced around the sales floor of a      pawnshop named Solid Gold Pawn. He walked back and forth, back and      forth, from the windows covered with iron bars at the front of the      shop to the checkout counter in the rear, passing shelves and      glass display cases filled with watches, electronics, and other      assorted merchandise. His legs were unsteady and his hands      trembled with nerves. His mouth was downturned, absolute worry      etched over his face. He had much to worry about. His entire life      was caving in around him. And he had no idea what to do.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e His name was Otto Brennan. He was in his mid-forties, but his      unforgiving face made him look older. Laugh lines spiderwebbed      from the corners of his cold, snakelike eyes, but the lines      weren't from years of enjoying laughter and merriment with      friends. A tight tan T-shirt revealed skinny, pasty white forearms      covered in tattoos, a crisscross pattern of winding designs. His      head was shaved completely bald.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e More pacing. He moved with a slight hitch in his step, a limp that      was a result of a bullet shattering his left kneecap when he was a      teenager. Otto looked at the room surrounding him as he walked, as      if the answer to all of his problems were resting on a shelf next      to the display of photo equipment or hanging from the wall above      the laptop computers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But there was no answer anywhere. Just merchandise. Stacks and      displays of stupid shit he'd purchased from customers over the      years.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The pawnshop's front door rattled open and he snapped his head      toward it, alarmed. A Hispanic guy in his twenties stood in the      doorway. The sides of his head were shaved but the hair on top was      braided in tight cornrows. Underneath one arm, he carried a black      flat-screen television.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yo,\" the younger guy said. The pawnshop door shut behind him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Hey, Carlos,\" Otto said. His voice was scratchy, like his larynx      was wrapped in sandpaper.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Otto walked behind the counter and sat down.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I got a TV for sale,\" Carlos said, setting the TV on the      countertop. \"Heard this was a good place to sell it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"How much you want for it?\" Otto asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"How much you gonna offer?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'll give you fifty bucks,\" Otto said, making the offer without      even looking at the television.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Shit, fifty bucks? It's worth a hell of a lot more than that.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"So make a counteroffer.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Carlos paused for a moment. He appeared to be a man deeply      contemplating his offer, but Otto knew it was an act.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'll take two hundred thousand dollars for it,\" Carlos said. \"Two      hundred grand seems like a fair price to me.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Despite everything going on in his life, Otto reacted to Carlos's      offer with a tight, restrained smile. He couldn't help it. He and      Carlos took part in these phony negotiations every time Carlos      showed up at Solid Gold Pawn with something to sell. By now, these      exchanges were an old song with a familiar tune, something they      did for their own amusement.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Two hundred thousand dollars, you say?\" Otto said, keeping it      going.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yeah.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Seems pretty pricey for a cheap-ass TV.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"The TV's worth every penny-believe me,\" Carlos said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Piece of shit probably doesn't even work.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"How about I carry this downstairs?\" Carlos said, picking up the      television. \"You can inspect it down there, appreciate some of its      finer details. See what makes it so valuable.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Let's go,\" Otto said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Otto walked over to a display of ten electric guitars hanging from      the wall. He nudged the gray wainscoting next to the guitars and a      hidden door slowly swung open, revealing a darkened wooden      staircase that led down to the basement. He flipped a switch on      the wall and a light at the base of the stairs flickered on.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e They descended the stairs and reached a shadowy room roughly half      the size of the sales floor above. It looked like a mini      warehouse, with large cardboard boxes stacked on metal storage      racks pushed against the walls. The boxes contained various items      Otto had purchased for the pawnshop, the contents scrawled on the      outside in Sharpie-video games, books, car stereos.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e In the middle of the room was a stainless-steel table, as wide as      a card table and twice as long. Carlos followed Otto over to it      and set the television on top.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Think I'll take a closer look at this fine piece of equipment,\"      Otto said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Be my guest.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A toolbox rested on top of the metal table, right next to the      television. Otto grabbed a hammer from inside and hefted it in his      hand, feeling its weight.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Take a step back,\" he said to Carlos.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Carlos did as requested.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Otto swung the hammer against the television screen, shattering      it. He set down the hammer and snaked his hand past a few jagged      shards of black glass that were still stuck in the frame. He      grabbed a cellophane-wrapped package duct-taped inside the      television and put it on the table. One by one, he lifted three      more identical packages from inside.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Told you the TV was worth two hundred grand,\" Carlos said. \"Fresh      from Xalisco. Four kilos of black tar heroin, straight Mexican      Mud.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"This looks good,\" Otto said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Then let's get to it. I got places to go. Our cut of last month's      profits plus the cost of this stuff is two hundred grand. Fork      over the cash.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Otto paused. He looked at the four cellophane-wrapped packages      lined up on the table, stared at them for a moment before looking      back up at Carlos. \"Listen,\" he said. \"I don't got the cash.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Carlos's eyes hardened. The hint of a smile on his face vanished.      His casual, joking demeanor was gone-this was business now, pure      and simple.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You don't got the cash?\" Carlos said. Even his voice had      changed-it sounded deeper, more menacing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Not right now.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Is this some kinda joke?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"No joke. I'm serious.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Carlos glared at him, the emotion completely drained from his      face.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"What the fuck, Otto?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'll have the money in a couple months.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"A couple months? Fuck that. What the hell am I supposed to tell      De La Fuente?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Tell him exactly what I just told you. Something came up and I      don't got the cash right now. I'll get it to him later.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Carlos pinched his nose and ran his hand along his jawline. \"Are      you out of your mind? You're gonna stiff De La Fuente?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I ain't stiffing him. Make sure he understands that. I'm just      delaying payment for a few months. He'll get his money later.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"He's gonna go ballistic.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I know,\" Otto said. He tried to speak coolly, but his voice      quavered. \"I need you to help me out here. Tell De La Fuente I'm      good for this.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Carlos shook his head. \"I'll do what I can, Otto. But this ain't      no joke.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e They walked across the basement and ascended the stairs, the      creaking of the rotting wood underneath them the only sound in the      stairwell. Back upstairs, Carlos turned around and faced Otto.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"So, what's up?\" Carlos said. \"Between you and me, what's going      on?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Just some shit.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Gotta be pretty serious to screw De La Fuente out of nearly two      hundred grand. This is the head of the El Este cartel you're      fucking with, bro. He didn't get to where he is by letting people      pull shit like this on him.\"","brand":"Berkley","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46305494565093,"sku":"NP9780399586422","price":9.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780399586422.jpg?v=1767730723","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/killer-choice-isbn-9780399586422","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}