Nick Carter

This book is Nick Carter's autobiography and self-help hybrid in which he chronicles his struggles with a dysfunctional family and the unimaginable rigors of becoming an internationally successful pop-star at the age of 12. From his battle with addiction to serious health complications and the pain of his younger sister's tragic death, Nick leaves nothing to the imagination and offers true and heartfelt advice to help readers overcome obstacles in...

Excerpt: ""Man overboard!" Nick Carter-known to the captain and crew of the tramp steamer Cherokee as Sykes, the bos'n-heard this shout, taken up by man after man, as he lay stretched out on the foc's'le head, in the early morning, just as the ship nosed her way into San Juan harbor, on the northern coast of Porto Rico. The thrilling warning that somebody has fallen into the sea, which always sends a shock through both crew and passengers whenever...

Excerpt: ""Hello! hello! This is Frank Mantell talking. I want Mr. Carter-Nick Carter. Is he there?" Patsy Garvan, the detective's junior assistant, then alone in the library of Nick's Madison Avenue residence, was the recipient of the above telephone communication. It came over the wire in tones reflecting the haste and excitement of the speaker. Patsy remembered him, a son of the senior partner of the firm of Mantell & Goulard, whose big department...

Excerpt: ""Message for Mr. Carter!" The wireless operator of the steamship Marathon, in the linen clothes and pith helmet ordinarily worn by white people in the tropics, came along the steamer deck with a slip of paper in his hand and stopped in front of a row of steamer chairs under an awning. "Where's it from?" asked the occupant of one of the chairs, springing to his feet. "From shore, sir-Calcutta." Nick Carter, who was holding out his hand even...

Excerpt: "It had happened in the past that Nick Carter had done some little business for the head of the house of Danton, but it had been of a commercial character, and he had never met the other members of the family, although naturally they were all known to him by sight, as well as by the reputations they had earned for themselves in their own separate ways. Mrs. Danton-or the señora, as she was often called because of her Spanish ancestry-because...

Excerpt: ""There's no question in my mind, inspector, as to who did the job," said Nick Carter. "You feel sure of it, then?" "As sure as water runs downhill. I refer, of course, to the mechanical part of the work. I looked it over on the morning following the burglary, every part of the looted vault, and I am as sure of the cracksman's identity as if I had seen him getting in his work. Only one yegg in the business has the mechanical genius to crack...

Excerpt: ""Move on, old man, and go home!" It was the stern voice of one of New York's finest policemen that uttered these words. "Home! I wonder where it is?" muttered the old man to whom the policeman had spoken, and a shudder ran through his frame, as he slowly moved down the street. As he reached the corner near old St. John's Church, on Varick Street, he paused, rubbed his eyes and gazed dreamily around him. For some time before the policeman...

Excerpt: ""The thing seems impossible!" "Yet it's true." "You mean to tell me that--" "I mean to tell you that Mrs. de Puyster van Dietrich, who retired to her room in this hotel last night at eleven o'clock, was not there this morning when her maid went to call her, and that her doors were all bolted and locked, with the keys inside." "What about the windows?" "Mrs. van Dietrich's rooms are on the fourth floor." "Well?" "She did not jump out, Mallory,...

Excerpt: "It was a fateful moment-one to be remembered. A fateful moment in the lives and fortunes of some to whom there then came no premonition of evil, no dread of the terrible sword that hung by a hair above their heads, upon whom was cast no shadow through the glare and glitter around them, amid the gay festivities in which each played a part. It was a fateful moment, one brought only by chance to the notice of Nick Carter. It was remembered...

Excerpt: "A spear shot into the midst of the camp, and stuck, quivering, in the ground! Patsy Garvan and Chick jumped to their feet, rifle in hand, and looked inquiringly at Nick Carter. The detective had not moved. He was sitting with his back against a rock, a cigar in his mouth, and silently contemplating the small fire that he had consented to have made. When the spear came sailing over the bluff, at the foot of which was the little camp, he merely...