An essential selection of Moyra Davey's sly, surprising, and brilliant essays

The Shabbiness of Beauty' is a visual dialogue that crosses generational divides with the easy intimacy of a late-night phone call. Multidisciplinary artist Moyra Davey delved into Peter Hujar's archives and emerged mainly with little-known, scarcely seen images. In response to these, Davey created her own images that draw out an idiosyncratic selection of shared subjects. Side by side, the powerfully composed images admire, tease, and enhance one another in the manner of fierce friends, forming a visual exploration of physicality and sexuality that crackles with wit, tenderness, and perspicacity. Spiritually anchored in New York City, even as they range out to rural corners of Quebec and Pennsylvania, these images crystallise tensions between city and country, human and animal. Nudes pose with unruly chickens; human bodies are abstracted toward topography; seascapes and urban landscapes share the same tremulous plasticity. These continuities are punctuated by stark differences of approach: Davey's self-aware postmodernism against Hujar's humanism and embrace of darkroom manipulation. The rich dialogue between these photographs is personal and angular, ultimately offering an illuminating reintroduction to each celebrated artist through communion with the other's work.--

As a shy little sheep who was born quite different to the rest of his flock, Davey goes to extreme lengths each morning to disguise himself in order to fit in. But what happens when his true colours are finally revealed? Through vibrantly painted illustrations and simple rhymes, Davey’s Pink Wool is a sweet story that teaches the importance of embracing your own uniqueness and learning to love yourself just as you are.

Barns are burning in Amish author, Linda Byler's, second book in the ‘Lancaster Burning' series, and no one knows who's doing it or why. Can Sarah Beiler end the terror that is pulling apart her community, even as her own heart is pulled between two young men? Barns are burning in the Lancaster County's Amish community, and no one knows who's doing it or why. Sarah Beiler's barn was the first to burn and it was quickly followed by two other barn fires. The entire Amish community is on edge and wrestling with how they should respond to these seemingly random crimes. Sarah thinks Ashley, whom she's learned to know at the local farmers market, knows more about the fires than she will admit. But Sarah can't convince her to share her secrets. Should the Amish consider police protection as Sarah's cousin, Melvin, insists, or should the community continue to follow their traditional peaceful approach to violence as Sarah's father, Davey, the local minister, counsels? Then another barn burns, this one more devastating than any other, and the community again rallies around the distressed family. Even in the midst of this chaos, life must go on for Sarah and her family. But now it feels as if nothing is normal. The local Amish school board asks Sarah to take over teaching a school where the students are out of control. How will she handle obstinate Amish kids and their defensive parents? Matthew is asking if the Amish church is the right fit for him. Will Sarah follow him if he decides to leave the community? Sarah's mother can't stay out of it and keeps urging Sarah to pay more attention to Lee, the well-behaved Amish man, who helps anyone in the community in need. How will Sarah respond to all of the forces that are pulling her in different directions? She is Davey's daughter, after all, raised to love and respect the long-held traditions of her people. But will the outside forces become so great that she gives up her parents' ways and decides to leave her community? Will her father agree to police protection for the vulnerable Amish farmers especially for those who are widowed—or continue to insist that God will provide? Skyhorse Publishing, as well as our Arcade, Yucca, and Good Books imprints, are proud to publish a broad range of books for readers interested in fiction—novels, novellas, political and medical thrillers, comedy, satire, historical fiction, romance, erotic and love stories, mystery, classic literature, folklore and mythology, literary classics including Shakespeare, Dumas, Wilde, Cather, and much more. While not every title we publish becomes a New York Times bestseller or a national bestseller, we are committed to books on subjects that are sometimes overlooked and to authors whose work might not otherwise find a home.

Bedtime was special when my children were very young. We enjoyed reading aloud and telling stories to each other. Such times were special, to be savored and treasured; out of those times came The Davey Family Stories. Each is an extension of our family at the time, and each embodies a modicum of truth--the way it was and the way we wanted it to remain. This wish is still true. As with all fiction, this book is a roman a clef, life remembered but couched as fiction. That doesn’t make it any less true; in fact, it may serve to emphasize the truth of being, of existing, of our petty attempts to make a mark on time, an enduring impression which may outlast our lives and memories. At any rate such can I hope.

*Lucifer has created his own version of the love boat, which means no one is safe. Not even a witch. My crazy witch of a grandma placed a spell on my locket. A love spell. I don’t think so. Which means I’ll have to find my cursed necklace and nullify the magic. But first, I apparently have to go on a cruise with Grandma. She’s booked a berth on some fancy boat with others like us. You know, the special folk—as in horns, magic, and a bit of fur. No sooner do I park my broom and find my sea-legs when the locket turns up on board—thankfully, not in the possession of the annoying shapeshifter. Oz is hot, but he’s not my type. Neither is the pirate whom the locket tries to hook me up with. Or the sea monster who gets it next and tries to drown me. Busy avoiding potential suitors, I find myself hoping the locket will end up in the one place it doesn’t belong: in the grasp of the lion who makes me purr.