Europe, 1945: Hitler is dead; the Third Reich is an open wound. Amid the chaos, a man like no other makes his way south through France and into Spain. No one will stand in his way and live.

Only idealistic young Wilson Tripp, American vice consul in the city of Seville, stands to discover the man’s true identity and the stunning threat he poses–that is, if Wilson Tripp can survive.

Said Barnaby Conrad, “It is hard to explain how colorful, exciting, and occasionally dangerous ‘neutral’ Spain was in that era; the closest thing I can compare it to would be to the film Casablanca, with its Nazi villains, American heroes, beautiful women, and spies. And intrigue, always intrigue.”

It is the morning of Pacote’s last fight, the finale of one of the greatest careers in Spain. The posters are up, the great black bulls are waiting, and a heavy air of expectancy hangs over the city. Pacote, alone in his dressing room, feels the heavy ball of fear pressing against his heart. For he knows that he has been falling off, that he will be unable to face the bulls this day, that he will disgrace himself before the young upstart who is fighting with him and before the crowd that has immortalized him too soon. And there is a woman … the woman.

From the moment the gate is opened and the first bull enters the ring, you are there in the stands with the screaming crowd, at the ringside with the sweating sword handlers and the banderilleros, and in the lonely emptiness at the center of the arena with only a red cape and a slender sword.

When El Matador opened in 1958, Bennett Cerf called it “the most attractive room in America.” Part saloon, part salon, Barnaby Conrad’s nightclub was nestled in the heart of San Francisco’s cabaret and nightlife district. On any given night, one might find No+ 1/2l Coward, Marilyn Monroe, Truman Capote, Frank Sinatra, Ava Gardner, or Tyrone Power in the club or might hear Duke Ellington, Art Tatum, Eva Gabor, George Shearing, or Andr+(r) Previn take over the piano.

In Name Dropping, Barnaby Conrad vibrantly evokes this bygone era. Charming, personable, and witty, the author is both celebrity and fan as he shares vivid, hilarious, and surprising anecdotes, delightfully dropping famous names all the while.

For most of us, the Betty Ford Center in Rancho Mirage, California, has been a mysterious, almost mythical place where the rich and famous went to be cured. Elizabeth Taylor, Liza Minelli, Tony Curtis, Mary Tyler Moore, and Robert Mitchum are only a few of the Betty Ford Center’s celebrated alumni.

When writer Barnaby Conrad checked into the Center, he knew that time was running out for him. Now he brings us a riveting personal account of the thirty days that changed–and saved–his life and an intimate look into the secrets of the most famous drug and alcohol treatment center in the world.