Dark Rivers Of The Heart,New

Product Description A Man And A Woman Meet By Chance In A Bar. Suddenly They Are Fleeing The Long Arm Of A Clandestine And Increasingly Powerful Renegade Government Agency The Woman Hunted For The Information She Possesses, The Man Mistaken As Her Comrade In A Burgeoning Resistance Movement.The Architect Of The Chase Is A Man Of Uncommon Madness And Cruelty Ruthless, Possibly Psychotic, And Equipped With A Vast Technological Arsenal. He Is The Brazen Face Of An Insidiously Fascistic Future. And He Is Virtually Unstoppable. But He Has Never Before Come Up Against The Likes Of His Current Quarry. Both Of Them Are Survivors Of Singularly Horrific Pasts. Both Have Long Been Emboldened By Their Experiences To Fight With Reckless Courage For Their Own Freedom. Now They Are Plunged Into A Struggle For The Freedom Of Their Country, And For The Sanctity Of Their Own Lives.Dark Rivers Of The Heart Is An Electrifying Thriller That Steers Us Along The Razor Edge Of A Familiar, Terrifying Reality.From The Trade Paperback Edition. Review 'As Usual, Koontz'S Writing Is Flawless....Dark Rivers Of The Heart Is Exciting, Entertaining, And Thoughtful.'Denver Post'A Believable Hightech Thriller.'The New York Times'A Humdinger Of A Chase Novel...Dark Rivers Of The Heart Deserves To Go To No.1 On The Bestseller List.'Entertainment Weekly'A Fresh Surprise On Virtually Every Page...And A Pyrotechnic Denouement Full Of Marvelous Mayhem.'Washington Post'Viscerally Exciting...An Extended, Tense Tour De Force...An Expertly Crafted, Ornate Suspenser...Koontz Fans Will Love It.'Publishers Weekly, Starred Reviewfrom The Paperback Edition. About The Author Dean Koontz, The Author Of Many #1New York Timesbestsellers, Lives In Southern California With His Wife, Gerda, Their Golden Retriever, Elsa, And The Enduring Spirit Of Their Goldens, Trixie And Anna. Excerpt. Reprinted By Permission. All Rights Reserved. Chapter Onewith The Woman On His Mind And A Deep Uneasiness In His Heart, Spencer Grant Drove Through The Glistening Night, Searching For The Red Door. The Vigilant Dog Sat Silently Beside Him. Rain Ticked On The Roof Of The Truck.Without Thunder Or Lightning, Without Wind, The Storm Had Come In From The Pacific At The End Of A Somber February Twilight. More Than A Drizzle But Less Than A Downpour, It Sluiced All The Energy Out Of The City. Los Angeles And Environs Became A Metropolis Without Sharp Edges, Urgency, Or Spirit. Buildings Blurred Into One Another, Traffic Flowed Sluggishly, And Streets Deliquesced Into Gray Mists.In Santa Monica, With The Beaches And The Black Ocean To His Right, Spencer Stopped At A Traffic Light.Rocky, A Mixed Breed Not Quite As Large As A Labrador, Studied The Road Ahead With Interest. When They Were In The Trucka Ford Explorerrocky Sometimes Peered Out The Side Windows At The Passing Scene, Though He Was More Interested In What Lay Before Them.Even When He Was Riding In The Cargo Area Behind The Front Seats, The Mutt Rarely Glanced Out The Rear Window. He Was Skittish About Watching The Scenery Recede. Maybe The Motion Made Him Dizzy In A Way That Oncoming Scenery Did Not.Or Perhaps Rocky Associated The Dwindling Highway Behind Them With The Past. He Had Good Reason Not To Dwell On The Past.So Did Spencer.Waiting For The Traffic Signal, He Raised One Hand To His Face. He Had A Habit Of Meditatively Stroking His Scar When Troubled, As Another Man Might Finger A Strand Of Worry Beads. The Feel Of It Soothed Him, Perhaps Because It Was A Reminder That He'D Survived The Worst Terror He Would Ever Know, That Life Could Have No More Surprises Dark Enough To Destroy Him.The Scar Defined Spencer. He Was A Damaged Man.Pale, Slightly Glossy, Extending From His Right Ear To His Chin, The Mark Varied Between One Quarter And One Half An Inch In Width. Extremes Of Cold And Heat Bleached It Whiter Than Usual. In Wintry Air, Though