When Cobb's friend dies by suicide the police say that it is an open and shut case, but Cobb is far from satisfied. He follows his nose and a few psychic intuitions, and what was a simple suicide turns into a series of devilish crimes. Cobb tears himself away from his university lecturing and follows a very dangerous course to put all the clues together. He ends up asking himself the question "how can a dead man have committed these crimes?" It is a very traumatic time in Cobb's life. Not only does he escape death by a hair's breadth, he finds himself having a passionate but loving relationship with a younger woman

Ty Cobb was one of the most famous baseball players who every lived. The author puts Cobb into the context of his times, describing the very different game on the field then, and successfully probes Cobb's complex personality.

Ty Cobb's life is a fascinating study of extremes. His professional highs are astonishing: During his career, he set 123 records. His lifetime batting average of .367 has never been surpassed, and he hit over .300 for 23 straight seasons. But there was a

Distantly related to a Confederate general, Ty Cobb was a strapping Augusta youth who became a star for the Detroit Tigers. Long revered as a great hitter and an incredibly fast baserunner, Cobb often has been remembered as a hated athlete, a bitter man who died nearly 50 years ago. No biographer has explored the complex personality as deeply and meticulously as Don Rhodes in his new comprehensive biography. Rhodes reveals the man as Cobb was in Augusta: in the off season and as a retiree. For the first time, a biographer includes interviews with Cobb's two daughters (whom Rhodes met before they died), his granddaughter, and close friends, who offer insight and photos of Cobb's private life never seen before. Many of Cobb's emotional troubles started early in life, and no doubt were compounded during his early seasons with the Tigers, when his mother went on trial for murdering his father. The ugly side of this phenomenal athlete is not defended or explained away, but readers learn to better understand a man who seemed so miserable, when he had so much. Don Rhodes is an editor at Morris Communications in Augusta. He has written “Ramblin' Rhodes,” a music column, for more than 37 years, and his byline appears in many magazines and newspapers. He lives in North Augusta, South Carolina.

"Humor is merely tragedy standing on its head with its pants torn."—Irvin S. Cobb Born and raised in Paducah, Kentucky, humorist Irvin S. Cobb (1876–1944) rose from humble beginnings to become one of the early twentieth century's most celebrated writers. As a staff reporter for the New York World and Saturday Evening Post, he became one of the highest-paid journalists in the United States. He also wrote short stories for noted magazines, published books, and penned scripts for the stage and screen. In Irvin S. Cobb: The Rise and Fall of a Southern Humorist, historian William E. Ellis examines the life of this significant writer. Though a consummate wordsmith and a talented observer of the comical in everyday life, Cobb was a product of the Reconstruction era and the Jim Crow South. As a party to the endemic racism of his time, he often bemoaned the North's harsh treatment of the South and stereotyped African Americans in his writings. Marred by racist undertones, Cobb's work has largely slipped into obscurity. Nevertheless, Ellis argues that Cobb's life and works are worthy of more detailed study, citing his wide-ranging contributions to media culture and his coverage of some of the biggest stories of his day, including on-the-ground reporting during World War I. A valuable resource for students of journalism, American humor, and popular culture, this illuminating biography explores Cobb's life and his influence on early twentieth-century letters.

A raw and rampaging debut novel from the author of the “inventive, unsparing, irreverent and consistently entertaining” (NYTBR) memoir Eat the Apple--the last phase of war for US veterans: returning home. What was it like? It's the only thing anyone wants to know about war--and the last thing Corporal Dean Pusey wants to talk about, at least not with one of these fat and happy civilians crowding the bar. Dean is two months free from the Marine Corps, and life back in his Indiana hometown is anything but peaceful. That's when the woman next to him offers to buy him a drink. Max is nice--gorgeous, funny, easy to talk to. Dean doesn't dare tell her about the sheep he took care of on his first deployment, only to watch it get torn to shreds by a pack of wild dogs; or the naked, shivering Iraqi teenager his platoon detained after an IED blast. He needs to leave all that behind and become a new person-the kind who sticks around when Max gets pregnant. He's white-knuckling it, trying to keep calm, and it's not easy. Harder still when his friend and comrade Ruiz starts showing up all over the place like he's been invited--like he didn't die a year ago. He has Max now, he has his baby daughter, River. He doesn't have time for ghosts. With his signature black humor, hard-eyed honesty, and stylistic ingenuity, Matt Young delivers a novel that turns the typical war story on its head--beginning not with enlistment but with retirement, and locating the life-or-death stakes not in battle, but in the domestic theaters of fatherhood, family, forgiveness, and love.