Brother Odd: An Odd Thomas Novel
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
Loop me in, odd one. The words, spoken in the deep of night by a sleeping child, chill the young man watching over her. For this was a favorite phrase of Stormy Llewellyn, his lost love. In the haunted halls of the isolated monastery where he had sought peace, Odd Thomas is stalking spirits of an infinitely darker nature.
As he steadfastly journeys toward his mysterious destiny, Odd Thomas has established himself as one of the most beloved and unique fictional heroes of our time. Now, wielding all the power and magic of a master storyteller at the pinnacle of his craft, Dean Koontz follows Odd into a singular new world where he hopes to make a fresh beginning—but where he will meet an adversary as old and inexorable as time itself.
convincing when I first took him information that solved a stalled murder investigation. “Son, nobody but you sees bodachs. If the kids or all of us is gonna get slammed by somebody, by somethin’—you got the best chance of figurin’ out what-how-when, the best chance to stop it.” On the mahogany floor lay a Persian-style carpet. In the figured world of wool between my feet, a dragon twisted, glaring. “I don’t want that much responsibility. I can’t carry it.” “God seems to think you can.”
newest kaleidoscopic wonder of bones suggested that, just as no two snowflakes in history have been alike, so no two of the thing’s manifestations would produce the same pattern. My expectation was not merely that the glass would shatter, all eight bright panes at once, but also that every muntin would burst into splinters and that the frame would tear out of the wall, taking chunks of plaster with it, and that the thing would clamber into the school behind a cascade of debris. I wished that I
unknowns don’t disconcert me.” “How does lying on a garage floor console you?” “The water stains on the ceiling are lovely. They relax me.” Looking at the concrete overhead, he said, “I find them ugly.” “No, no. All the soft shadings of gray and black and rust, just a hint of green, gently blending together, all free-form shapes, not anything that looks as defined and rigid as a bone.” “Bone, did you say?” “Yes, sir, I did. Is that a bearskin hat, sir?” “Yes. I know it is not politically
called up the schema of the heating-and-cooling systems. I was particularly interested in the boilers, of which the school had two. Because no natural-gas service extended to the remote Sierra, both boilers were fired by propane. A large pressurized storage tank lay buried at a distance from both the school and the abbey. According to the monitors, the propane tank contained 84 percent of maximum capacity. The flow rate appeared to be normal. All of the valves were functioning. The ratio of
wonderful country aboard a certain orbiting platform about which I can say no more.” “Will she make America safe forever, sir?” “Nothing is forever, son. But if I had to commend the fate of the nation to a single pair of hands, I could think of none I would trust more than hers.” “I wish I could meet her, sir.” “Perhaps one day you will.” Elvis lured Boo away for a belly rub, and I said, “I do worry about the data in Dr. Heineman’s computers. In the wrong hands…” Leaning close, he