{"product_id":"deal-breaker-isbn-9780593974513","title":"Deal Breaker","description":"\u003cb\u003eThe debut of Myron Bolitar, a hotheaded, tenderhearted sports agent and one of the most fascinating and complex heroes in suspense fiction—a page-turning classic from Edgar Award–winner and master storyteller Harlan Coben.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e“One of the most engaging heroes in mystery fiction.”—Dennis Lehane\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSports agent Myron Bolitar is poised on the edge of the big time. So is Christian Steele, a rookie quarterback and Myron’s prized client. But when Christian gets a phone call from a former girlfriend—a woman who everyone, including the police, believes is dead—the deal starts to go sour. Trying to unravel the truth about a family’s tragedy, a woman’s secret, and a man’s lies, Myron is up against the dark side of his business—where image and talent make you rich, but the truth can get you killed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003e“What sets Harlan Coben above the crowd are wit and wicked nonchalance.”—\u003ci\u003eLos Angeles Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\"A mystery thriller with all the right stuff, intrigue, suspense, romance and humor . . . Coben  keeps you in suspense from beginning to end.\"\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Newark Tribune\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Like fellow wise-cracking  P.I.'s Spenser and Elvis Cole, Myron Bolitar is great fun in the best hard-boiled  tradition.\"\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eHouston Chronicle\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003eHarlan Coben  is the winner of the Edgar, Shamus, and Anthony awards. His critically acclaimed novels have been published in thirty-three languages around the world and have been number one bestsellers in more than half a dozen countries. In addition to the Myron Bolitar series (\u003cb\u003eDeal Breaker, Drop Shot, Fade Away, Back Spin, One False Move, The Final Detail, Darkest Fear\u003c\/b\u003e, and the upcoming \u003ci\u003ePromise Me\u003c\/i\u003e), he is also the author of \u003cb\u003eTell No One, Gone for Good, \u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003eInnocent, The Woods,\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eHold Tight.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eChapter One\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Otto Burke, the Wizard of Schmooze, raised his game another level.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Come on, Myron,\" he urged with neoreligious fervor. \"I'm sure we can come   to an understanding here. You give a little. We give a little. The Titans  are a  team. In some larger sense I would like all of us to be a team. You  included. Let's  be a real team, Myron. What do you say?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Myron Bolitar steepled his fingers.  He had read somewhere that steepled  fingers made you look like a thoughtful person.  He felt foolish.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'd like nothing more, Otto,\" he said, returning the pointless  volley for  the umpteenth time. \"Really I would. But we've given as much as we can.  It's  your turn now.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Otto nodded vigorously, as if he had just heard some philosophical  whimsy  that put Socrates to shame. He tilted his head, angling the painted-on smile   toward his team's general manager. \"Larry, what do you think?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Taking his cue,  Larry Hanson pounded the conference table with a fist hairy  enough to be a gerbil.  \"Bolitar can go to hell!\" he shouted, playing enraged  to the hilt. \"You hear me,  Bolitar? You understand what I'm telling you? Go  to hell.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Go to hell,\" Myron  repeated with a nod. \"Got it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You being a wiseass with me? Huh? Answer me,  dammit! You being a wiseass?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Myron looked at him. \"You have a poppy seed stuck  in your teeth.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Goddamn wiseass.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"And you're beautiful when you're angry.  Your whole face lights up.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Larry Hanson's eyes widened. He swung his line of  vision toward his boss,  then back to Myron. \"You're out of your league here, Bolitar.  And you  f***ing know it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Myron said nothing. The truth of the matter was,  Larry Hanson was partially  right. Myron was out of his league. He had been in sports  representation for  only two years now. Most of his clients were borderline cases--guys  who were  lucky to make the cut and grabbed the league's minimum. And football was  far  from his specialty. He had only three NFL players, only one of whom was a  starter.  Now Myron sat across from thirty-one-year-old wunderkind Otto  Burke, the youngest  owner in the NFL, and Larry Hanson,  former-football-legend-turned-exec, negotiating  a contract that even in his  inexperienced hands would be the biggest rookie contract  in NFL history.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Yes, he—Myron Bolitar—had landed Christian \"Hot Prop\" Steele.  Two-time  Heisman trophy-winning quarterback. Three straight AP and UPI number-one   rankings. All-American four years in a row. If that wasn't enough, the kid  was  an endorsement wet dream. An A student, good-looking, articulate,  polite, and white  (hey, it mattered).\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Best of all, he was Myron's.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"The offer is on the table,  gentlemen,\" Myron continued. \"We think it's more  than fair.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Otto Burke shook  his head.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It's a load of crap!\" Larry Hanson shouted. \"You're a goddamn idiot,   Bolitar. You're going to flush this kid's career down the toilet.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Myron spread  his arms. \"How about a group hug?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Larry was about to offer up another expletive,  but Otto stopped him with a  raised hand. In Larry's playing days Dick Butkus and  Ray Nitzchke couldn't  stop him with body blows. Now this one-hundred-fifty-pound  Harvard grad  could silence him with but a wave.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Otto Burke leaned forward.  He hadn't stopped smiling, hadn't stopped the  hand gestures, hadn't stopped the  eye contact—like an Anthony Robbins  Personal Power infomercial come to life. Disconcerting  as all hell. Otto was  a small, fragile-looking man with the tiniest fingers Myron  had ever seen.  His hair was dark and heavy-metal long, flowing to his shoulders.  He was  baby-faced with a silly goatee that looked as if it'd been sketched on in   pencil. He smoked a very long cigarette, or maybe it just appeared long  against  his tiny fingers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Now, Myron,\" Otto said, \"let's speak rationally here, okay?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Rationally. Let's.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Great, Myron, that'll be helpful. The truth is, Christian  Steele is an  unknown, untested quantity. He hasn't even put on a pro uniform yet.  He may  be the bust of the century.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Larry snorted. \"You should know something  about that, Bolitar—about players  who amount to nothing. Who crap out.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Myron  ignored him. He had heard the insult before. It no longer bothered  him. Sticks and  stones and all that. \"We are talking about perhaps the  greatest quarterback prospect  in history,\" he replied steadily. \"You made  three trades and gave up six players  to get his rights. You didn't do all  that if you didn't believe he has what it takes.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"But this proposal\"—Otto stopped, looked up as though searching the ceiling   tiles for the right word--\"it's not sound.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Crap is more like it,\" Larry added.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It's final,\" Myron said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Otto shook his head, the smile unfazed. \"Let's  talk this through, okay?  Let's look at it from every conceivable angle. You're new  at this, Myron—an  ex-jock reaching for the executive brass ring. I respect that.  You're a  young guy trying to give it a go. Heck, I admire that. Really.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Myron  bit down. He could have pointed out that he and Otto were the same  age, but he so  loved being patronized. Didn't everybody?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"If you make a mistake on this,\" Otto  continued, \"it could be the sort of  thing that destroys your career. Do you know  what I mean? Plenty of people  already feel that you're not up to this—to handling  such a high-profile  client. Not me, of course. I think you're a very bright guy.  Shrewd. But the  way you're acting . . .\" He shook his head like a teacher disenchanted  with  a favorite pupil.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Larry stood, glowering down at Myron. \"Why don't you  give the kid some good  advice?\" he said. \"Tell him to get a real agent.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Myron  had expected this whole good-cop, bad-cop routine. He had, in fact,  expected worse;  Larry Hanson had not yet attacked the sexual appetites of  anyone's mother. Still,  Myron preferred the bad cop to the good cop. Larry  Hanson was a frontal assault,  easily spotted and handled. Otto Burke was the  snake-infested high grass with buried  land mines.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Then I guess we have nothing more to discuss,\" Myron said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I believe a holdout would be unwise, Myron,\" Otto said. \"It might soil  Christian's  squeaky-clean image. Hurt his endorsements. Cost you both a  great deal of money.  You don't want to lose money, Myron.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Myron looked at him. \"I don't?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"No,  you don't.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Can I jot that down?\" He picked up a pencil and began scribbling.  \"Don't .  . . want . . . to . . . lose . . . money.\" He grinned at both men. \"Am  I  picking up pointers today or what?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Larry mumbled, \"Goddamn wiseass.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Otto's smile remained locked on autopilot. \"If I may be so bold,\" he  continued,  \"I would think Christian would want to collect quickly.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Oh?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"There are  those who have serious reservations about Christian Steele's  future. There are those\"—Otto  drew deeply on his cigarette—\"who believe he  may have had something to do with  that girl's disappearance.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Ah,\" Myron said, \"that's more like it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"More  like what?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You're starting to fling mud. For a second there I thought I wasn't  asking  for enough.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Larry Hanson stuck a thumb in Myron's direction. \"Do you  believe this  f***ing sliver of pond film we're sitting with? You raise a legitimate  issue  about Christian's ex-bimbo, one that goes to the heart of his value as a   public relations commodity—\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Pitiful rumors,\" Myron interrupted. \"No one believed  them. If anything,  they made the public more sympathetic to Christian's tragedy.  And don't call  Kathy Culver a bimbo.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Larry raised an eyebrow. \"Well, well,  aren't we touchy,\" he said, \"for a  low-life pissant.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Myron's expression did  not change. He had met Kathy Culver five years ago  when she was a sophomore in high  school, already a budding beauty. Like her  sister Jessica. Eighteen months ago Kathy  had mysteriously vanished from the  campus of Reston University. To this day no one  knew where she was or what  had happened to her. The story had all the media's favorite  tasty morsels--a  gorgeous co-ed, the fiancée of football star Christian Steele,  the sister of  novelist Jessica Culver, a strong hint of sexual assault for extra   seasoning. The press could not help themselves. They attacked like ravenous  relatives  around a buffet table.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But just recently a second tragedy had befallen the Culver  family. Adam  Culver, Kathy's father, had been murdered three nights earlier in what   police were calling a \"botched robbery.\" Myron wanted very much to contact  the  family, to do more than merely offer simple condolences, but he had  decided to stay  away, not knowing if he was welcome, fairly certain he  wasn't.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Now if—\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e There was a knock on the door. It opened a crack, and Esperanza stuck her  head  in. \"Call for you, Myron,\" she said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Take a message.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I think you'll  want to take it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Esperanza stayed in the doorway. Her dark eyes gave away nothing,  but he  understood.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'll be right there,\" he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She slipped back through  the door.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Larry Hanson gave an appreciative whistle. \"She's a babe, Bolitar.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Gee, thanks, Larry. That means a lot coming from you.\" He rose. \"I'll be  right  back.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"We don't have all goddamn day to jerk off here.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'm sure you  don't.\"#1 New York Times bestselling author","brand":"Dell","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46304192200933,"sku":"NP9780593974513","price":18.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593974513.jpg?v=1767724856","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/deal-breaker-isbn-9780593974513","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}