Lindsay Harding, a young hospital chaplain in the tiny town of Mount Moriah, North Carolina, just wants to help people. But her eagerness to help draws her into a dark world of secrets and lies when a beloved Civil War re-enactor is murdered in front of hundreds of on-lookers. As Lindsay races to find the killer and avoid becoming the next victim, she draws upon her courage, her friends, and her own irreverant brand of religion. All the while Lindsay is torn between her attraction to the hospital's new doctor, an Adonis in surgical scrubs, and her fractious, flirtatious relationship with the (sort-of) married detective investigating the murder. When Lindsay threatens to expose century-old sins that shaped the very soul of Mount Moriah, the murderer gets to close for comfort and threatens Lindsay's chance at a happy ending.

“Mt. Moriah’s Wake is an eloquent novel in which a woman experiences a spiritual homecoming and embraces love.” —Foreword Clarion Reviews Orphaned at age eight, JoAnna Wilson was raised by her eccentric aunt in the bucolic southern community of Mt. Moriah. Now a twenty-six-year old would-be writer, JoAnna faces several crossroads: in her marriage, in her career, and in her faith. She left home for Chicago in 1997 immediately following the murder of her best friend, Grace. Now she comes back to Mt. Moriah for the first time in four years to attend her aunt’s funeral—and realizes that she must confront both the profound sorrow she feels over Grace’s death and the mysterious guilt she carries. She must finally grieve. A hauntingly sweet story of love and loss that alternates between JoAnna’s childhood in Mt. Moriah, her life in Chicago and her present encounters upon returning home, Mt. Moriah’s Wake ponders deep questions: When we experience unspeakable tragedy, do we see ourselves as victim or survivor? Is it possible to regain happiness in the face of such? And how do we find our faith again, once it is lost? As her past and present worlds collide, JoAnna grapples with these questions—and her journey moves toward an unexpected conclusion.

Nestled on a mountainous plateau overlooking Deadwood's downtown core district is one of the premier historic cemeteries in Black Hills: Mount Moriah Cemetery. Established in 1878, this cemetery contains some of North America's most recognized Western legends, including James Butler "Wild Bill" Hickok, Martha "Calamity Jane" Canary, Seth Bullock, John "Potato Creek Johnny" Perrett, and Henry Weston "Preacher" Smith. They represent a small portion of the more than 3,600 people buried in Mount Moriah whose memories have been carved, chiseled, and etched into the monuments within this cemetery. Deadwood's Mount Moriah Cemetery is a combination of historic and contemporary photographs chronicling the history of the cemetery and the stories of the individuals--both colorful and illustrious--who helped carve Deadwood into the annals of the American West.

Winner of the René Wellek Prize Named a Best Book of the Year by The Guardian, The Millions, and The Sydney Morning Herald This Life offers a profoundly inspiring basis for transforming our lives, demonstrating that our commitment to freedom and democracy should lead us beyond both religion and capitalism. Philosopher Martin Hägglund argues that we need to cultivate not a religious faith in eternity but a secular faith devoted to our finite life together. He shows that all spiritual questions of freedom are inseparable from economic and material conditions: what matters is how we treat one another in this life and what we do with our time. Engaging with great philosophers from Aristotle to Hegel and Marx, literary writers from Dante to Proust and Knausgaard, political economists from Mill to Keynes and Hayek, and religious thinkers from Augustine to Kierkegaard and Martin Luther King, Jr., Hägglund points the way to an emancipated life.

Excerpt from Chapter One: All Tanenbaum said was “And then what happened, Eddie?” He appeared to enter some weirdly hypnotic, catatonic trance—his already breathy voice became monotonal, his eyes glazed over, his face drained of expression—and he went on and on and on. “She said, ‘Wait until your mother hears this; this is going to break her heart.’ And I said, ‘Please don’t tell my mother, Sherrald; please don’t tell my mother, Sherrald; please don’t tell my mother.’” And while Eddie Hurdle continued to mouth that refrain, “please don’t tell my mother,” both of his hands gripped an imaginary knife and repeatedly, metronomically, plunged it down and raised it up and plunged it down and raised it up, over and over and over again. The three observers—Davin, Tanenbaum, and the stenotypist—sat in stunned silence as Eddie Hurdle reenacted his crime. * * * * “Other sins only speak; murder shrieks out,” wrote playwright John Webster in 1623, and our fascination with murder and murder trials has continued unabated to the present. Murder is, after all, the most dramatically unlawful thing a person can do to another. It runs counter to the very fundaments of human society, breaching what social philosophers have termed the social contract. Society speaks with its firmest voice in addressing the conduct of its members who kill another, and murder prosecutions have the direst of consequences of any court proceeding, as they may occasion the loss of a violator’s liberty for life or even the loss of his or her life itself. But most murder cases, while fascinating in the motives or personalities of the killers or the circumstances of the killings and the ensuing trials, receive little attention and recede into ordinariness. Only rarely does a murder case become a cause célèbre, notorious enough to capture wide attention; the O. J. Simpson–, Scott Peterson–, Claus von Bülow–type cases prove the exception rather than the rule. For the most part, the public’s perception of garden-variety murder trials quickly becomes only memory’s ashes strewn sparsely on the fields of public awareness. Brought to life by the prosecutor who tried the six “everyday murders” narrated here, three in Manhattan and three in San Francisco, these true stories prove redolent with drama, encapsulating raw human emotions that often impel man to murder—greed, lust, jealousy, hatred, as well as mere folly—and actually are quite extraordinary in their own context. Sit at the prosecution’s table with masterful prosecutor Hugh Anthony Levine as he represents the People of the State of New York or the People of the State of California in the trials of some everyday murders.

Ungentle Goodnights uses the records of the United States Naval Asylum (later the United States Naval Home), a residence for disabled and elderly sailors and Marines established by the U.S. government, to recover the lives of the 541 men who were admitted there as lifetime residents between 1831 and 1866. The records of the Naval Asylum are an especially rich source for discovering these lower-deck lives because would-be residents were required to submit summaries of their naval careers as part of the admission process. Using these and related records, published and manuscript, it is possible to reconstruct the veterans' lives from their teenage years (and sometimes earlier) until their deaths. Previous historians who have written about the pre-Civil War naval enlisted force have depended on published nineteenth-century sailor and Marine autobiographies, which may not accurately reflect the realities of enlisted life. Ungentle Goodnights seeks to discover the life experiences of real Marines and naval sailors, not a few of whom were misbehaving, crafty, and engaging individuals who feature prominently in the book.

Murdered Father, Dead Father: Revisiting the Oedipus Complex examines the progressive construction of the notion of paternal function and its central relevance in psychoanalysis. The distinction between the murdered (narcissistic) father and the dead father is seen as providing a paradigm for the understanding of different types of psychopathologies, as well as works of literature, anthropology and historical events. New concepts are introduced, such as "a father is being beaten", and a distinction between the descriptive après coup and the dynamic après coup that provides a model for a psychoanalytic understanding of temporality. The book includes a reflection on how the concepts of the death instinct and the negative, in their connection with that which is at the limits of representability, are an aid to an understanding of Auschwitz, a moment of rupture in European culture that the author characterizes as " the murder of the dead father". Perelberg’s book is an important clinical and intellectual marker, and will be required reading for psychoanalysts, psychotherapists, anthropologists, and historians, as well as students in all these disciplines.