The Key to Midnight
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A haunting nightmare is the key to one woman's mysterious past in the spine-tingling novel from #1 New York Times bestselling author Dean Koontz.
more.” “I know. I just meant—your life in Chicago or mine in Kyoto?” “Kyoto,” he said. “You can’t be asked to start over yet again. And there’s nothing for me in Chicago if you’re not there. Besides, I really do like big-band music. It’s not a taste they programmed into me. And on a winter night, I like the way that snow falls like powdered starlight on the Gion. I like the pure notes of temple bells and oiled-paper lanterns that make shadows dance in a breeze.” Within the hour, they were
that small, clean, but decidedly dreary hospital room. At three o’clock he and Joanna left to keep an appointment with Dr. Omi Inamura, but Mariko remained at the hospital. The leaden sky had darkened and descended since they’d arrived at the hospital, as if a solar eclipse was in progress behind the vault of clouds. In Joanna’s Lexus, as she drove across the busy city, Alex said, “From now on, Mariko’s going to put her match-making energy to work for herself.” “What do you mean?” “You
was such a thing. “’Tenser, said the Tensor.’ ” Although the doctor had not asked a question, Joanna responded. “Tension, apprehension, and dissension have begun.” “ ‘Tenser, said the Tensor.’ ” Joanna did not respond this time. Inamura leaned forward in his armchair. “You are in the room that smells of alcohol ... ammonia. You’re strapped to the bed.” “Yes.” “There is a window. An open window. What do you see beyond the window, Joanna?” “The roof of a house,” she said without hesitation.
THE EYES OF DARKNESS THE KEY TO MIDNIGHT MR. MURDER THE FUNHOUSE DRAGON TEARS SHADOWFIRES HIDEAWAY COLD FIRE THE HOUSE OF THUNDER THE VOICE OF THE NIGHT THE BAD PLACE THE SERVANTS OF TWILIGHT MIDNIGHT LIGHTNING THE MASK WATCHERS TWILIGHT EYES STRANGERS DEMON SEED PHANTOMS WHISPERS NIGHT CHILLS DARKFALL SHATTERED THE VISION THE FACE OF FEAR This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either
corners of her mouth; she smiled as she opened her eyes and picked up the second piece of toro. Alex said, “Joanna, I...” “Yes?” He hesitated. “You’re beautiful.” That wasn’t everything he had intended to tell her, and it was surely not as much as she wanted to hear, but her smile seemed to say that she could not possibly have been happier. They drank tea and ordered other kinds of sushi—dark-red lean tuna, snow-white squid, blood-red akagai clams, octopus tentacles, pale shrimp, caviar, and