There's a reason why Brewster can't have friends—why he can’t care about too many people. Because when he cares about you, things start to happen. Impossible things that can’t be explained. I know, because they’re happening to me.

When BrontË starts dating Brewster “Bruiser” Rawlins—the guy voted Most Likely to Get the Death Penalty—her twin brother, Tennyson, isn’t surprised. But then strange things begin to occur. Tennyson and BrontË’s scrapes heal unnaturally fast, and cuts disappear before their eyes. What at first seems like their good fortune turns out to be more than they bargained for . . . much more.

A picture of life in the boxing ring

"Few novelists captured the contradictions of his country so simply or so honestly in the metaphor of the pure, fatalistic, and merciless community of bruising."--from the Foreword

When The Bruiser was first published in 1936, almost every reviewer praised Jim Tully's gritty boxing novel for its authenticity--a hard-earned attribute. Twenty-eight years before the appearance of The Bruiser, Tully began a career in the ring, fighting regularly on the Ohio circuit. He knew what it felt like to step inside the ropes, hoping to beat another man senseless for the amusement of the crowd. Having won acclaim in the 1920s for such hard-boiled autobiographical novels as Beggars of Life and Circus Parade, Tully thus became both fighter and writer. "It's a pip of a story because i is written by a man who knows what he is writing about," said sportswriter and Guys and Dolls author Damon Runyon. "He has some descriptions of ring fighting in it that literally smell of whizzing leather. He has put bone and sinew into it, and atmosphere and feeling."

The Bruiser is the story of Shane Rory, a drifter who turns to boxing and works his way up the heavyweight ranks. Like Tully, Shane starts out as a road kid who takes up prizefighting. While The Bruiser is not an autobiographical work, it does draw heavily on Tully's experiences of the road and ring. Rory is part Tully, but the boxers populating these briskly paced chapters are drawn from the many ring legends the writer counted among his friends: Jack Dempsey, Joe Gans, Stanley Ketchel, Gene Tunney, Frank Moran, and Johnny Kilbane, to name a few. The book is dedicated to Dempsey, the Roaring Twenties heavyweight champion, who said, "If I still had the punch in the ring that Jim Tully packs in The Bruiser, I'd still be the heavyweight champion of the world today."

More than just a riveting picture of life in the ring, The Bruiser is a portrait of an America that Jim Tully knew from the bottom up.

After spending another morning hiding in the clothes hamper eavesdropping on his miserable parents, Bruiser escapes to the open world outside. Set free into the chilly air of a noisy spring day in the city, slamming around, screaming crazy with guys on the block, Bruiser thinks of home and realizes it's time to change his life. So begins the journey of a nine-year-old boy with a rich visual imagination who is trying to make sense of the world. This is Bruiser's account in his own words, captured by first-time novelist Ian Chorão with uncanny precision and an ear for the staccato rhythms of childhood consciousness. A novel refreshingly free of sentimentality, Bruiser confronts the darkness and violence of life even as it illuminates its wonder and sweetness.

With a remarkably original narrative style, Bruiser spirits readers back to the Upper West Side of Manhattan in the late 1970s. From here, we follow Bruiser on his unlikely search for meaning, solace, and eventually the seeds of a tentative, hard-won maturity. Overwhelmed by the pain and confusion of a troubled home life -- his father is remote and given to irrational rages, his mother is undone by stifled artistic aspirations -- Bruiser takes to the open road with Darla, a ten-year-old kindred spirit who lives across the alleyway. Their flight from the mounting tensions of home, an adventure dotted with frightening episodes and surprising revelations, is a journey in search of liberation and emotional truth, and with potentially tragic consequences.

Ian Chorão inhabits a child's particular frame of mind with acute sensitivity and startling immediacy. In the disjunction between the limitations of a young boy's awareness and our adult understanding of the circumstances lies a special poetry that is its own powerful truth, and a reminder of the often uncertain, yet painfully acute impressions that adults can make on the hearts and minds of children. In language that is both spare and potently sincere, Chorão has created a character in Bruiser that we won't soon forget.

Contained in this book, are the preaching notes from a series of messages preached and taught from the heart of a spirit filled preacher, to the good and faithful fl ock of Eastside Baptist Church. Brother Don Bradford began this series on his fi rst Sunday night as pastor, and continued for the next two months.
Anything he says is worth hearing, anything he does is worth seeing, and now his first writing is worth reading. He has chosen to be a general practitioner in the pulpit, examining the lives, decisions, and consequences of the intriguing characters of the Bible. He has opened his heart, delivered his soul, and shared his mind. May God use this printed form to be a blessing to many.

“No bother,” I say. “I presume you are still working for Dwyer the Bookie?”
“The same.” Christy is relaxed now. “And yeh know our Ciaran here, he’s Dwyer’s nephew.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“He’s to be my apprentice, to learn the ropes of the debt protection business.”
“For Dwyer?”
“For Dwyer, his uncle. I’ve bin given him to have under me wing for a year, from last week. After he got out, still on the probation.”
“Debt protection, is that some class of insurance?” I seek clarity.
Christy laughs and they both grin at each other. “More debt collection,” Christy expands. “We discuss repayments with slow payers.”

Conversation in the snug of Mulligans provides insight into debt collection for gamblers

“No bother,” I say. “I presume you are still working for Dwyer the Bookie?”
“The same.” Christy is relaxed now. “And yeh know our Ciaran here, he’s Dwyer’s nephew.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“He’s to be my apprentice, to learn the ropes of the debt protection business.”
“For Dwyer?”
“For Dwyer, his uncle. I’ve bin given him to have under me wing for a year, from last week. After he got out, still on the probation.”
“Debt protection, is that some class of insurance?” I seek clarity.
Christy laughs and they both grin at each other. “More debt collection,” Christy expands. “We discuss repayments with slow payers.”

Conversation in the snug of Mulligans provides insight into debt collection for gamblers

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