From the internationally bestselling author of The Attack and The Swallows of Kabul, a gripping first-person narrative about one young man's involvement in France's worst terrorist attack. Khalil, a twenty-three-year-old Belgian of Moroccan descent, plans to detonate a suicide vest in a crowd outside the Stade de France on November 13, 2015. Explosions are rocking Paris, at cafés and the Bataclan theater, and when other bombs drive the stadium crowd to flee in his direction, near the Metro, his time has come. He presses his button, and . . . nothing. Fearing he has failed in his mission for Fraternel Solidarity (FS), an ISIS affiliate, Khalil has little choice but to blend in with his would-be victims and run. Back in Belgium, he must lie low and avoid his militant brethren and the authorities. He relies on his family and friends for places to stay, but he keeps the truth about himself secret. All the while, he contemplates what he almost did, and what he will do next--particularly when it comes to light that his vest accidently had been a harmless training unit all along, and FS has a new mission planned for him. In this daring, propulsive literary thriller, Yasmina Khadra takes readers to the margins of Europe's glittering capitals, through neighborhoods isolated by government neglect and popular apathy, if not outright racism. And he brings to life an unusual protagonist, a young man struggling with family, religion, and politics who makes fateful choices, and in doing so dramatizes powerful questions about society and human nature.

2021 ARAB AMERICAN CHILDREN'S BOOK AWARD WINNER Children's Africana Book Award (CABA) 2021 Honor Book NCSS 2021 Notable Social Studies Book Kanzi’s family has moved from Egypt to America, and on her first day in a new school, what she wants more than anything is to fit in. Maybe that’s why she forgets to take the kofta sandwich her mother has made for her lunch, but that backfires when Mama shows up at school with the sandwich. Mama wears a hijab and calls her daughter Habibti (dear one). When she leaves, the teasing starts. That night, Kanzi wraps herself in the beautiful Arabic quilt her teita (grandma) in Cairo gave her and writes a poem in Arabic about the quilt. Next day her teacher sees the poem and gets the entire class excited about creating a “quilt” (a paper collage) of student names in Arabic. In the end, Kanzi’s most treasured reminder of her old home provides a pathway for acceptance in her new one. This authentic story with beautiful illustrations includes a glossary of Arabic words and a presentation of Arabic letters with their phonetic English equivalents.

Khalil Maleki (1901–1969) was a selfless campaigner for democracy and social welfare in twentieth-century Iran. His was a unique approach to politics, prioritising the criticism of policies detrimental to his country’s development over the pursuit of power itself. An influential figure, he was at the centre of such formative events as the split of the communist Tudeh party, and the 1953 coup and its aftermath. In an age of intolerance and uncompromising confrontation, Maleki remained an indefatigable advocate for open discussion and peaceful reform – a stance that saw him jailed several times. This work makes a compelling case for him to be regarded among the foremost thinkers of his generation.

Khalil "the Companion" is given his name by the One Above at his birth in 1903. Despite evidence of this divine interest, Khalil's 80-odd years of life remain fairly ordinary, even though many of these years are spent under the far-from-ordinary conditions of the System in South Africa. Apart from the high moments--an adolescent trip to India, the fleshly delights on his wedding night, and a memorable evening spent with the Black Pimpernel at an abortive New Unity Movement meeting--Khalil's later life is mostly taken up with trying to keep his wife and children happy and fed. Nevertheless, just as Khalil's birth was an event discussed at length by the aunties of the neighborhood, at the end of his life, Khalil realizes his life's journey contains many memorable moments.

Khalil and Keya have a love that conquers all. But when you've just been handed the reigns to Dallas' most notorious family's business, that love can be tested beyond anything that you could have ever imagined. Keya is still dealing with the senseless death of her brother Xavier although she is trying to convince Khalil that she's perfectly fine. Keya is just about to lose control when someone other than Khalil steps in to make sure that she stays safe. Khalil is dealing with his new found responsibilities of being a boss. He knows that he along with everyone he loves just became a target to anybody who wants to replace him. He's ready to do whatever it takes to keep Keya safe even if it means keeping her in the dark about it. Khalil's right hand man is not the least bit happy about not being named head of the Carters' empire. Although he initially lays back and appears to support Khalil, it's all just a smoke screen until he's ready to make his move. Khalil and Keya's love will be challenged beyond belief. The only question to be answered is can their love survive jealousy, lies, an deceit.

Sheik Abbas was looked upon as a prince by the people of a solitary village in North Lebanon. His mansion stood in the midst of those poor villagers' huts like a healthy giant amidst the sickly dwarfs. He lived amid luxury while they pursued an existence of penury. They obeyed him and bowed reverently before him as he spoke to them. It seemed as though the power of mind had appointed him its official interpreter and spokesman. His anger would make them tremble and scatter like autumn leaves before a strong wind. If he were to slap one's face, it would be heresy on the individual's part to move or lift his head or make any attempt to discover why the blow had come. If he smiled at a man, the villagers would consider the person thus honoured as the most fortunate. The people's fear and surrender to Sheik Abbas were not due to weakness; however, their poverty and need of him had brought about this state of continual humiliation. Even the huts they lived in and the fields they cultivated were owned by Sheik Abbas who had inherited them from his ancestors.