Winner of the Bolton-Johnson Prize Winner of the Utley Prize Winner of the Distinguished Book Award, Society for Military History “The Dead March incorporates the work of Mexican historians...in a story that involves far more than military strategy, diplomatic maneuvering, and American political intrigue...Studded with arresting insights and convincing observations.” —James Oakes, New York Review of Books “Superb...A remarkable achievement, by far the best general account of the war now available. It is critical, insightful, and rooted in a wealth of archival sources; it brings far more of the Mexican experience than any other work...and it clearly demonstrates the social and cultural dynamics that shaped Mexican and American politics and military force.” —Journal of American History It has long been held that the United States emerged victorious from the Mexican–American War because its democratic system was more stable and its citizens more loyal. But this award-winning history shows that Americans dramatically underestimated the strength of Mexican patriotism and failed to see how bitterly Mexicans resented their claims to national and racial superiority. Their fierce resistance surprised US leaders, who had expected a quick victory with few casualties. By focusing on how ordinary soldiers and civilians in both countries understood and experienced the conflict, The Dead March offers a clearer picture of the brief, bloody war that redrew the map of North America.

Winner of the Bolton-Johnson Prize Winner of the Utley Prize Winner of the Distinguished Book Award, Society for Military History “The Dead March incorporates the work of Mexican historians...in a story that involves far more than military strategy, diplomatic maneuvering, and American political intrigue...Studded with arresting insights and convincing observations.” —James Oakes, New York Review of Books “Superb...A remarkable achievement, by far the best general account of the war now available. It is critical, insightful, and rooted in a wealth of archival sources; it brings far more of the Mexican experience than any other work...and it clearly demonstrates the social and cultural dynamics that shaped Mexican and American politics and military force.” —Journal of American History It has long been held that the United States emerged victorious from the Mexican–American War because its democratic system was more stable and its citizens more loyal. But this award-winning history shows that Americans dramatically underestimated the strength of Mexican patriotism and failed to see how bitterly Mexicans resented their claims to national and racial superiority. Their fierce resistance surprised US leaders, who had expected a quick victory with few casualties. By focusing on how ordinary soldiers and civilians in both countries understood and experienced the conflict, The Dead March offers a clearer picture of the brief, bloody war that redrew the map of North America.

The first in a new mystery series that takes place during the Civil War. Two women from opposite ends of society investigate the murder of a slave woman and risk their lives to find the killer and save the life of an innocent child.

“Slow and steady wins the case” as a dedicated London policeman puzzles through a fatal fall, a financial mystery, and an eccentric family’s many secrets (Kirkus Reviews). Miss Penelope Blow’s fatal fall from her bedroom window would seem like a tragic accident, if it weren’t for Penelope’s multiple visits to Scotland Yard before her death, trying to get in touch with Inspector Littlejohn. Now, before he ever had a chance to talk to the woman, he’s driven to look deeper into a case that may very well be murder—with no cooperation from Penelope’s wealthy, secretive, and thoroughly odd family . . . “As is often the case in Bellairs’ novels, his prose is often very wryly amusing. . . . One of his most readable tales, offering an interesting mix of characters and a satisfying puzzle to solve.” —Mysteries Ahoy

Centralia Dead March is a documentary novel based on the struggle of a radical union to establish better working conditions and solidarity among lumbermen, miners, railroad and migrant workers during the early part of this century. Wesley Everest, Ray Becker, Bert and O.C. Bland, Loren Roberts and Eugene Barnett lived and worked around Centralia, Washington and were active in the Wobblies, the International Workers of the World. Because of its doctrine of worker unity, its stand against racist hiring practices and its call for militant tactics, the I.W.W., the most feared union among the ruling classes, was subject to massive arrests and numerous court actions. When the I.W.W. led the northwester woods out on strike during the First World War because wages had dropped while production increased, they were branded "traitors" in the local papers. On November 11, 1919, during the first Armistice parade, a mob of Centralia "patriots" raided the union hall. In the conflict, three soldiers were shot by workers defending their property; Everest was beaten, castrated, and hanged from a brid≥ and seven workers--including Becker, the Blands, Roberts, and Barnett--were sentenced to from 25 to 40 years. Centralia Dead March recreates these historical events and examines the long-term consequences of the violence and repression.

In Ciudad Juárez, Mexico, people disappear, their bodies dumped in deserted city lots or jettisoned in the unforgiving desert. All too many of them are women. More or Less Dead analyzes how such violence against women has been represented in news media, books, films, photography, and art. Alice Driver argues that the various cultural reports often express anxiety or criticism about how women traverse and inhabit the geography of Ciudad Juárez and further the idea of the public female body as hypersexualized. Rather than searching for justice, the various media—art, photography, and even graffiti—often reuse victimized bodies in sensationalist, attention-grabbing ways. In order to counteract such views, local activists mark the city with graffiti and memorials that create a living memory of the violence and try to humanize the victims of these crimes. The phrase “more or less dead” was coined by Chilean author Roberto Bolaño in his novel 2666, a penetrating fictional study of Juárez. Driver explains that victims are “more or less dead” because their bodies are never found or aren’t properly identified, leaving families with an uncertainty lasting for decades—or forever. The author’s clear, precise journalistic style tackles the ethics of representing feminicide victims in Ciudad Juárez. Making a distinction between the words “femicide” (the murder of girls or women) and “feminicide” (murder as a gender-driven event), one of her interviewees says, “Women are killed for being women, and they are victims of masculine violence because they are women. It is a crime of hate against the female gender. These are crimes of power.”

[Illustrated with over 30 photos of the author, his unit, escape, his kit etc.] As General MacArthur sailed away from the Philippines vowing to return, he left behind him many American soldiers that had been swept up by the victorious Japanese tide of invasion. One such man was Lt.-Colonel William Edwin ‘Ed’ Dyess, he and his unit of the 21st Pursuit squadron flew their obsolete P-40 Warhawks against the superior Japanese fighters until no more planes remained. Undaunted he fought on as an infantryman before his eventual capture by the Japanese his deeds of selfless bravery were legendary, including giving his own plane to a fellow aviator so he could fly to safety. Dyess and his brave men deserved a better fate than that which awaited them at the hands of their Japanese captors on the infamous Bataan Death March. Driven north from Bataan, the American and Philippino prisoners were beaten, starved and prodded at the tip of the bayonet toward prison camps that had been callously unprovided with the basic means of existence. In the only successful mass prison escape, Dyess along with his men broke out of their prison camp and made contact with resistance groups. After a time waging further Guerilla operations, Dyess and two other American servicemen were evacuated by submarine to Australia. As Dyess recuperated the American Government knowing the effect that the truth of the atrocities committed by the Japanese would galvanize public opinion allowed the release of his story via the Chicago Tribune. The story created a huge storm of outrage directed at the Japanese and of respect and admiration for Dyess and his fellow soldiers who had endured so much on their behalf. Dyess returned to active service as soon as was possible but tragically died in an airplane accident in 1943, a hero to his men and country. A tragically vivid and gruelling account of one of the most heroic escape stories yet told.

Raising the Dead is a groundbreaking, interdisciplinary exploration of death’s relation to subjectivity in twentieth-century American literature and culture. Sharon Patricia Holland contends that black subjectivity in particular is connected intimately to death. For Holland, travelling through “the space of death” gives us, as cultural readers, a nuanced and appropriate metaphor for understanding what is at stake when bodies, discourses, and communities collide. Holland argues that the presence of blacks, Native Americans, women, queers, and other “minorities” in society is, like death, “almost unspeakable.” She gives voice to—or raises—the dead through her examination of works such as the movie Menace II Society, Toni Morrison’s novel Beloved, Leslie Marmon Silko’s Almanac of the Dead, Randall Kenan’s A Visitation of Spirits, and the work of the all-white, male, feminist hip-hop band Consolidated. In challenging established methods of literary investigation by putting often-disparate voices in dialogue with each other, Holland forges connections among African-American literature and culture, queer and feminist theory. Raising the Dead will be of interest to students and scholars of American culture, African-American literature, literary theory, gender studies, queer theory, and cultural studies.

"The grisly procession of dead had grown alarmingly...men who had endured the terrible ordeal of Bataan, who were 10,000 miles from home, and who then died in the most miserable conditions. For me, as a doctor, the most distressing thought was that they could have been saved, almost without exception, by proper diet and medical care." Imprisoned by the Japanese in 1942, Lieutenant John Bumgarner, U.S. Army Medical Corps, attempted to care for the survivors of the Bataan Death March. A lack of medical supplies, coupled with poor diet and unsanitary living conditions, made the task virtually impossible. Dr. Bumgarner was imprisoned until the Japanese surrender in 1945, all the while attending to his fellow prisoners of war who often had little chance of survival. His powerful story is a strong reminder of the brutality of war and captivity.

It’s drow god vs. drow god in this thrilling second installment of the Lady Penitent series When drow goddesses Lolth and Eilistraee sit down to a game of sava, they play for control of the dark elves of Faerûn and their own immortality. Unable to resist such high stakes, Kiaransalee—the goddess of the dead and of vengeance—asks to join the fray, turning the game into an even more cutthroat race for power. Though the goddesses' drow pawns will survive the game, the very nature of what it means to be a dark elf may change forever.