Odd Interlude: A Special Odd Thomas Adventure
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Odd Interlude, Dean Koontz’s New York Times bestselling three-part digital series—now in one volume for the first time
THERE’S ROOM AT THE INN. BUT YOU MIGHT NOT GET OUT.
Nestled on a lonely stretch along the Pacific coast, quaint roadside outpost Harmony Corner offers everything a weary traveler needs—a cozy diner, a handy service station, a cluster of cottages . . . and the Harmony family homestead presiding over it all. But when Odd Thomas and company stop to spend the night, they discover that there’s more to this secluded haven than meets the eye—and that between life and death, there is something more frightening than either.
Includes a preview of the next novel in the Odd Thomas series: Deeply Odd!
“[Odd Thomas is] one of the most remarkable and appealing characters in current fiction.”—The Virginian-Pilot
“An inventive . . . mix of suspense, whimsy and uplift.”—The Washington Post
“Odd Thomas is the greatest character Dean Koontz has ever created. He’s funny, humble, immensely likable, courageous, and just a joy to read about.”—Seattle Post-Intelligencer
“Koontz gives [Odd Thomas] wit, good humor, a familiarity with the dark side of humanity—and moral outrage.”—USA Today
that I need to be at least on the brink of nodding off before the invader—whoever or whatever it might be—can access me through the television. I switch off most of the lights, so that from outside it might appear that I’m finished exploring Harmony Corner and am leaving one lamp aglow as a night-light. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I eat a candy bar. One of the benefits of living in almost constant jeopardy is that I don’t need to worry about things like cholesterol and tooth decay. I’m sure
statistics. The why of the mind’s existence and the how of its profound capacity to reason—especially its penchant for moral reasoning—will by their very nature remain as mysterious as whatever lies outside of time. As I race up the stairs to the second floor, intent upon not falling into the hands of the possessed Bill Harmony, who looks like he has the strength to break me apart as easily as I might break in half a breadstick, I am afraid of dying—and therefore failing to protect Annamaria as
through the hills and out of the Corner—do other tributary drains feed it?” “Yeah. Five. When you’re going back—three to your left, two on your right. You can’t walk upright in any of them. You have to stoop. Sometimes you have to crawl.” “Tell me where they go.” “Nowhere. At the end of each, it’s been sealed off. I don’t know why or when. But storm water hasn’t been flowing through those drains in a long time, maybe ever since the people at Fort Wyvern connected their escape hatch to the
and orange melon flesh flew into the air and spattered the shopper. She startled backward: “Oh! Oh, goodness!” Although the cowboy still held the Sig Sauer, when the woman looked around in perplexity, her gaze rested longer on me than on him, and the pistol didn’t seem to register with her. She was bewildered, not afraid. Apologizing as if from time to time these darn cantaloupes just blew up on people, a produce-department clerk hurried to the elderly woman, showing no interest in the cowboy.
“Then snoop, snoop,” she says, making a shooing motion. I retreat from her cottage and close the door behind me. Already Boo is walking toward the diner. I follow him. He fades away like fog evaporating. I don’t know where he goes when he dematerializes. Maybe a ghost dog can travel to and from the Other Side as he pleases. I have never studied theology. For the last day of January along the central coast, the night is mild. And quiet. The air smells faintly, pleasantly, of the sea.