Book
Sometimes I lie / Alice Feeney.
Amber wakes up in a hospital. She can't move. She can't speak. She can't open her eyes. Though she can hear everyone around her, no one knows because she's in a coma. But she doesn't remember what happened. And she has a sneaking suspicion her husband had something to do with it. Alternating between her paralyzed present, the week before her accident, and a series of childhood diaries from twenty years ago, the narratives build and collide for an ending that leaves readers speechless. This novel delves into the blurred gap between who we are and who we'd like to be.
Record details
- ISBN: 9781250144850 (trade paperback)
- Physical Description: 279 pages ; 21 cm
- Edition: First Flatiron Books paperback edition.
- Publisher: New York : Flatiron Books, [2018]
- Copyright: ©2018
Content descriptions
| General Note: | Originally published in trade paperback: New York : Flatiron Books, 2018. |
Search for related items by subject
| Subject: | Coma > Patients > Fiction. Married women > Fiction. |
| Genre: | Thrillers (Fiction) Psychological fiction. Novels. |
Available copies
- 0 of 2 copies available at Tsuga Consortium.
Holds
- 4 current holds with 2 total copies.
Other Formats and Editions
Show Only Available Copies
| Location | Call Number / Copy Notes | Barcode | Shelving Location | Status | Due Date |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Lakeshore Branch | FIC Feene | 10601202601 | STACKS | On order | - |
| Lakeshore Branch | FIC Feene | 31681010091353 | FICTION | In process | - |
Summary:
Amber wakes up in a hospital. She can't move. She can't speak. She can't open her eyes. Though she can hear everyone around her, no one knows because she's in a coma. But she doesn't remember what happened. And she has a sneaking suspicion her husband had something to do with it. Alternating between her paralyzed present, the week before her accident, and a series of childhood diaries from twenty years ago, the narratives build and collide for an ending that leaves readers speechless. This novel delves into the blurred gap between who we are and who we'd like to be.
