Still Life with CrowsGrand Central Publishing, 2003 M07 1 - 448 páginas When a series of murders strikes small-town Kansas, FBI Special Agent Pendergast must track down a killer or a curse -- either way, no one is safe. A small Kansas town has turned into a killing ground. Is it a serial killer, a man with the need to destroy? Or is it a darker force, a curse upon the land? Amid golden cornfields, FBI Special Agent Pendergast discovers evil in the blood of America's heartland. No one is safe. |
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Página 2
... smell of late - summer Kansas : earth , cornstalks . He could see the circling turkey buzzards rise and dip , rise and dip above the dying smear of sunset along the horizon . One ugly motherfucker of a bird , thought Hazen , and he ...
... smell of late - summer Kansas : earth , cornstalks . He could see the circling turkey buzzards rise and dip , rise and dip above the dying smear of sunset along the horizon . One ugly motherfucker of a bird , thought Hazen , and he ...
Página 3
... smell of dry stalks , that peculiar rusty smell so familiar it was part of his very being . His feet crunched dry clods of earth , kicking up dust . It had been a wet spring , and until the heat wave kicked in a few weeks back the ...
... smell of dry stalks , that peculiar rusty smell so familiar it was part of his very being . His feet crunched dry clods of earth , kicking up dust . It had been a wet spring , and until the heat wave kicked in a few weeks back the ...
Página 4
... smell : the perfume of decay . He glanced up . The buzzards were far above now , directly over his head . Another fifty yards and he would be there . The air was still , the silence complete . He unshouldered his shotgun and moved for ...
... smell : the perfume of decay . He glanced up . The buzzards were far above now , directly over his head . Another fifty yards and he would be there . The air was still , the silence complete . He unshouldered his shotgun and moved for ...
Página 20
... smell the brimstone and fire and that would be it and you'd be dragged screaming into hell . you The man was approaching with long , cool strides , his shadow eating up the road before him . Winifred Kraus told herself she was being ...
... smell the brimstone and fire and that would be it and you'd be dragged screaming into hell . you The man was approaching with long , cool strides , his shadow eating up the road before him . Winifred Kraus told herself she was being ...
Página 23
... . A muggy flow of air came into the room , carrying with it the smell of dust and crops . The lace curtains bellied . Outside , the great sea of yellow corn stretched to the horizon , broken only by STILL LIFE WITH CROWS 23.
... . A muggy flow of air came into the room , carrying with it the smell of dust and crops . The lace curtains bellied . Outside , the great sea of yellow corn stretched to the horizon , broken only by STILL LIFE WITH CROWS 23.
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Términos y frases comunes
ahead began Boot Brast breath broken Brushy Jim Cabinet of Curiosities cave cavern Chauncy Cole corn cornfields Corrie crack Cry County dark Deeper door Douglas Preston dust eyes face FBI agent feet felt flashlight floor Gasparilla Ghost Warriors glanced goggles going Gremlin Gro-Bain hand Harry Beaumont head heard hell Kansas killer killings knew Larssen Lavender Lefty light Lincoln Child looked Maisie McFelty Medicine Creek minutes Miss Kraus Miss Swanson Mounds moved night night-vision goggles nodded paused pulled Raskovich Rheinbeck road rock rose scream seemed serial killer Sheriff Hazen shit shotgun Shurte side silence slowly smell smile Smit Ludwig Smitty sound Special Agent Pendergast stalactites stared stood stopped storm Stott suddenly sure talking There's thing thought took tornado warning town tunnel turkey voice waited walked wall watched Weeks window Winifred Kraus
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Página 432 - Sing a song of sixpence, A pocket full of rye; Four and twenty blackbirds Baked in a pie. When the pie was opened, The birds began to sing; Was not that a dainty dish To set before the king?
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Página 175 - God comes to thee, not as in the dawning of the day, not as in the bud of the spring, but as the Sun at noon to illustrate all shadows, as the sheaves in harvest, to fill all penuries, all occasions invite his mercies, and all times are his seasons.
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