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編輯推薦

　　《紙牌屋》是年度熱播美劇。
　　《紙牌屋》被兩次改編成電視劇，1990年英國BBC將《紙牌屋》改編成電視劇後廣受好評，被評為英國史上最偉大的政治劇之一。美劇一季於2013年2月開播以來，迅速風靡全球，奧巴馬即將客串！他和白宮、國會山多位政要均是劇集的鐵杆粉絲！第二季將於2014年2月14日開播，更有奧斯卡影後硃迪·福斯特加盟。
　　親曆官場的暢銷作傢，著書傑作一時風靡：
　　作者邁剋爾·道布斯是英國政治傢，他1975年步入政壇，開始為保守黨議員撰寫演講稿，很快嶄露頭角，被稱為“威斯敏斯特的娃娃臉殺手”，後任政府特彆顧問和撒切爾政府幕僚長，最終於保守黨副主席的職位上退休，2010年被英王室冊封為男爵。1989年，他寫的英國官場小說《紙牌屋》大獲好評，迅速成為暢銷書作傢。
　　國傢領導人王岐山、美國總統奧巴馬多次嚮屬下推薦《紙牌屋》：
　　國傢領導人王岐山多次嚮下屬推薦《紙牌屋》並錶示關注主角命運，奧巴馬也多次錶示他最喜歡的美劇是《紙牌屋》。
　　真實可感的政界博弈，激烈精彩的權力遊戲：
　　作者用娓娓道來的筆觸講述瞭一個心狠手辣的政治老手如何憑一己之力將首相扳倒的精彩故事。作者曾是撒切爾夫人的幕僚長，還曾是保守黨副主席，所以他寫的官場小說真實可感，精彩異常。

　　《紙牌屋》的戲劇化誕生
　　二十五年前發生的一樁錯誤完完全全改變瞭我的一生。當時我身處一座叫做戈佐的小島上，心情很是苦悶。我開始抱怨身邊的一切——太陽、大海，特彆是全新的暢銷書。很快我的人生伴侶就受不瞭瞭。“彆他媽這麼自大瞭，”她說，“要是你覺得你能寫得更好，那看在上帝的份兒上，趕緊動筆吧。我是來度假的，可不是來聽你拿那本破書發牢騷的！”
　　在她的“鼓勵”和鞭策下，我開始沉下心來。我一手握著筆，一手握著酒瓶。三瓶過後，我想我找到瞭自己的主人公——他的名字縮寫是“FU”，同時也想齣瞭一個大概的情節，於是乎，弗朗西斯·厄剋特和《紙牌屋》就這樣誕生瞭。
　　——邁剋爾·道布斯

內容簡介

The acclaimed political thriller that first introduced the unforgettable Francis Urquhart MP and launched Michael Dobbs' No 1 bestselling career - now reissued in a new cover. Michael Dobbs' entertaining tale of skulduggery and intrigue within the Palace of Westminster has been a huge hit with the public. Its scheming hero, Chief Whip Francis Urquhart, who uses fair means and foul to become Prime Minister, is one of the best-known characters of the last decade - the politician we all love to hate. Acclaimed for its authenticity and insights into a secret world - the result of many years working behind the scenes for the Conservative Party - it became a highly popular, award-winning BBC TV series, with Francis Urquhart memorably portrayed by Ian Richardson, and was followed by two further sequels, 'To Play the King' and 'The Final Cut', which also became top-rating TV series.

作者簡介

Michael Dobbs has carved out a unique niche as the country's leading political thriller writer, with a reputation for always being at the right hand of political controversy. In 1979 he was at Mrs Thatcher's side as she took her first step into Downing Street as Prime Minister, and in 1994 John Major appointed him Deputy Chairman of the Conservative Party. One newspaper described him as 'Westminster's baby-faced hitman'.

精彩書評

This blood-and-thunder tale, lifelike and thoroughly cynical, certainly carries the ring of authenticity ... a great triumph.' - Independent

'The exciting thriller that has Westminster buzzing. Here is a political thriller writer with a marvellous inside track knowledge of government.' - Daily Express

'It has pace, a beguiling authenticity and a cast of Achilles heels.' - Daily Telegraph

'What a brilliant creation F.U. is.' - Sunday Telegraph

　　近期王岐山曾嚮紀檢乾部們推薦瞭美國政治劇《紙牌屋》。《紙牌屋》改編自英國同名小說，描述議院和首相的權力角逐。消息稱，王岐山在提及這部作品時，非常重視劇中“黨鞭”這一政治角色。“黨鞭”一詞源於英國，指議會內的代錶其政黨的領袖人物，負責督導同黨議員，並維持議會黨團紀律，多為黨內專業人士。《紙牌屋》講述瞭英國保守黨黨鞭長弗朗西斯·厄剋特起起伏伏的政治生涯。——摘自《鳳凰周刊》2013年第34期刊齣文章《王岐山臉譜》

　　“這是個無比刺激的故事，生動真實，引人入勝，充滿瞭對這個世界的冷嘲熱諷，同時也讓人有身臨其境之感……這本書真是大獲全勝。”——《獨立報》

　　“這個令人興奮的驚悚故事充滿瞭威斯敏斯特的‘風情’。這個政治懸疑故事作傢曾經是政府的圈內人，對這些事情有著深刻的瞭解。《紙牌屋》結構緊湊，發人深省，精彩萬分。”——《每日快報》

精彩書摘

One
Thursday, June 10
It seemed scarcely a moment since she had made it back home, stumbling up the last step in exhaustion, yet already the morning sun was sticking thumbs in her eyes as it crept around the curtain and began to nestle on her pillow. She turned over irritably. Her head was thick, her feet sore, and the bed beside her empty. Helping finish off that second bottle of Liebfraumilch had been a lousy idea. She'd let down her defenses, got herself stuck in a corner with some creep from the Sun who was all acne and innuendo. She'd had to spill the last of the wine down his shirt before he'd backed off. She took a quick peek under the duvet, just to make sure she hadn't screwed up completely and he wasn't lurking there. She sighed; she hadn't even got round to taking off her socks.e
Mattie Storin beat her pillow into submission and lay back once again. She deserved a few extra moments in bed; she knew she wouldn't get any sleep tonight. Election night. Day of Damnation. Voters' Vengeance. The past few weeks had been ferocious for Mattie, under siege from her editor, stretched too tightly between deadlines, tossed between excitement and exhaustion. Maybe after this evening she could take a few days off, sort her life out, find a better quality of both wine and man to spend her evening with. She pulled the duvet more closely around her. Even in the glare of the early summer sun she felt a chill.
It had been like that ever since she had left Yorkshire almost a year before. She'd hoped she could leave all the accusations and the anger behind her, but they still cast a cold shadow that followed her everywhere, particularly into her bed. She shivered, buried her face in the lumpy pillow.
She tried to be philosophical. After all, she no longer had any emotional distractions, nothing to get in the way of discovering whether she really had what it took to become the best political correspondent in a fiercely masculine world. Only herself to bother about, not even a cat. But it was difficult to be philosophical when your feet were freezing. And when you didn't have any clean laundry. She threw back the duvet and clambered out of bed, only to discover that her underwear drawer was bare. She'd miscalculated, forgotten, too much to do and so little time to do any of it, least of all the bloody washing. She searched other drawers, every corner, made a mess but found nothing. Damn, she was glad no man had to watch her do this. She dived into her laundry basket, ferreted around and came up with a pair of knickers a week old but only a day worn. She turned them inside out, stepped into them. Ready for battle. With a sigh Mattie Storin threw open the bathroom door and got on with her day.
* * *
As dusk began to settle across the June skies, four sets of HMI mercury oxide television lamps clicked on with a dull thud, painting the front of the building with high intensity power. The brilliant light pierced deep behind the mock Georgian fa?ade of the Party's headquarters. A curtain fluttered at a third floor window as someone took a quick glance at the scene outside.
The moth also saw the lamps. It was waiting for the approaching night, resting in a crevice of one of the nearby towers of St. John, the graceful church built by Wren in the middle of Smith Square. The church had long been deconsecrated, St. John dismissed, but its four limestone towers still dominated this now godless square in the heart of Westminster. They stared down, frowning in disapproval. But not the moth. It began to tingle with excitement. It stretched its wings, drawn by ten thousand watts and a million years of instinct.
The moth strained in the early evening air, forcing its body along the river of light. It flew above the heads of the growing crowd, beyond the bustle and gathering pace of preparations. Nearer and nearer it flew, eager, passionate, erratic, ambitious, heedless of everything other than the power it was being drawn to, power beyond dreams, beyond resistance. It had no choice.
There was a bright flash as the moth's body hit the lens a millisecond before its wings wrapped around the searing glass and vaporized. Its charred and blackened carcass gave off little vapors of despair as it tumbled toward the ground. The night had gained its first victim.
* * *
Another of the night's early victims was propping up the varnished bar at the Marquis of Granby, just around the corner from the growing commotion. The original Marquis of Granby had been a popular military figure more than two hundred years earlier and had more pubs named after him than any other figure in the land, but the marquis had succumbed to politics, lost his way, and died in debt and distress. Much the same fate lay in store for Charles Collingridge, according to his many tolerant friends. Not that Charlie Collingridge had ever been elected, but neither had the marquis, it wasn't the done thing in those early days. Collingridge was in his midfifties, looked older, worn, and hadn't had a particularly glorious military career, two years of national service that had left him with little more than a sense of his own inadequacy in the order of life. Charlie had always tried to do the decent thing but he was accident prone. It happens when you have a drinking habit.
His day had started early with a shave and a tie, but now the stubble was beginning to show and the tie was hanging at half-mast. The eyes told the barman that the large vodka he had served two glasses ago hadn't been the first of the day. But Charlie was a genial drunk, always ready with a smile and a generous word. He pushed his empty glass back across the counter.
"Anot House of Cards紙牌屋 英文原版 [平裝] 下載 mobi epub pdf txt 電子書

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書的印刷質量非常不好，像盜版的

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國外的書的質量真心不敢恭維。。特價買的都感覺不值

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書的紙張一般，還沒看

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紙張還不錯

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慢慢看，美劇看完看紙書

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小巧，英國紙張的質量比泱泱大國差

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東西好，送貨速度快是選擇京東的唯一理由。

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