"... cunning... very scary... Abrahams writes prison scenes that can curl your toes, but nothing captures the brutality of the life more expressively that the material turned out by Ivy's class."

"The best writer of psychological suspense around."

"There isn't an off-key note in this superlative story."

"Abrahams solidifies his reputation as one of the best contemporary thriller writers."

"Hip, crisp dialogue and swift prose rife with apt, unflashy literary allusions; a credibly brilliant and likable heroine; an effectively chilling behind-bars mise en scène; and a firecracker plot all add up to a very cool, smart thriller.

... Studded with alarmingly precise renderings of explosive violence and pop-culture references ranging from Adam Sandler flicks to the Harvard Crimson to Wal-Mart nametags, the story reads like up-to-the-minute Ross MacDonald, Abrahams's idol and the presiding eminence of brainy crime fare. Truly clever writing about a clever writer turned true detective."

"His writing displays a wonderful combination of intensity and compassion blended with a silky delivery from start to finish."

"... the ending is a shocker."

"Peter Abrahams is one of those writers you tell your friends about... The novel is a delight."

"mesmerizing"

"When you get right down to it, there are basically only two kinds of crime stories: the ones where you know what's coming, which covers most series mysteries with resident sleuths, and the ones where you don't, which applies to just about everything Peter Abrahams writes, including his cunning new thriller, END OF STORY (Morrow, $24.95).

Not that Abrahams's novels lack a compass. For all their originality, his suspenseful plots invariably turn on the complex interaction of good and evil in a self-aware modern society. Certainly no one can accuse Ivy Seidel, the protagonist of "End of Story," of being insensitive to wickedness. An aspiring writer who suspects that her pedestrian efforts reflect her lack of exposure to the dark side, Ivy jumps at the chance to teach a writing class for inmates at Dannemora, a maximum security prison in upstate New York.

A stickler for realistic detail, Abrahams writes prison scenes that can curl your toes, but nothing captures the brutality of the life more expressively than the material turned out by Ivy's class. "Last night a man dream of a knife in a drawer" goes a line from one of them, who winds up in the psych ward.

Although she's properly unnerved when one of her students is murdered, Ivy doesn't see the evil in these men. In fact, she becomes convinced that Evan Harrow, a helluva writer and a hunk of a man, is innocent of the crime that sent him to the slammer. That conviction raises all kinds of ethical questions that Abrahams first examines in the abstract. Can an evil person be a great writer? Does talent ever justify cruelty? Do good intentions absolve guilt? How far should you go to get published in The New Yorker? Then he puts them to frightening use in a story that runs joltingly away from Ivy's control.

Among other things Abrahams seems to be saying in this very scary cautionary tale is that writers who routinely manipulate others for the sake of their work do so at their own peril. Is that evil? Ask Ivy. Or, better yet, ask that poet who wound up in the psych ward."

Ivy Seidel dreams of becoming a writer, a great American novelist. But running low on money and concerned that her writing might lack a depth and darkness, she takes a job teaching creative writing -- at a maximum-security prison. It is a world she has never experienced before, one ruled by enigmatic codes of honor, ceaseless aggression and absolutely savage violence.

But one of the prisoners there is unlike any of the others, and unlike any man she has ever met before. Vance Harrow is unique. He is soft-spoken, charismatic and brilliantly talented. Two things trouble Ivy deeply. First, she suspects that Harrow shouldn't be in prison at all. He possesses an intellect that separates him from the other inmates and a selflessness that might just get him killed. Second, he has at the same time deep reservoirs of rage and brutality that seem perfectly in line with the other prisoners - a dichotomy Ivy finds difficult to reconcile.

Trying to understand the complex picture, perhaps even get some recognition for a writer as gifted as Harrow seems to be, Ivy begins to ask questions. How did such a man end up in prison in the first place? Is he truly guilty? If not, who could have been responsible for putting him there, and why hasn't he tried harder to free himself? But the more questions Ivy asks to free a man she believes to be innocent, the more attention she draws to herself. Soon other people begin to ask questions - about Ivy Seidel.

In the span of just a few days, Ivy's life will be completely turned upside down. What begins as an inquiry into one man's innocence may explode into a love affair, and what begins as an obsession to save one man's life might just end up costing Ivy her own.