Kathy Reichs blasts into Patricia Cornwell territory -- and onto the New York Times bestseller list -- with this critically acclaimed debut novel inspired by Reichs' own career. Dr. Temperance Brennan, the wry, impassioned director of forensic anthropology for the province of Quebec, is... read more
In the year since Temperance Brennen left behind a shaky marriage in North Carolina, work has often preempted her weeken plans to explore Quebec. When a female corpse is discovered meticulously dismembered and stashed in trash bags, Tempe detects an alarming pattern- and she plunges into a... read more (warning: may contain spoilers)
In the year since Temperance Brennen left behind a shaky marriage in North Carolina, work has often preempted her weeken plans to explore Quebec. When a female corpse is discovered meticulously dismembered and stashed in trash bags, Tempe detects an alarming pattern- and she plunges into a harrowing search for a killer. But her investigation is about to place those close to her- her best friend and her own daughter- in mortal danger.....
“"Anyway, he didn't like the aroma. Said"-I skimmed the incident report to find the exact phrase-"'the smell of Satan rose up out of the bag and surrounded my soul.' Unquote." "A poet. I like that," said Pelletier. "Wonder what he'd say about my shorts."”Conversation between Tempe and Pelletier (Reading bout a monkey - Alsa from the incident report)
“Flies buzzed and circled around it, like academics at a free buffet.”Dr. Brennan
“I walked to the desk, zigzagging through maggots like a child playing jacks.”Dr. Brennan
“He looked like a man on the way to a prostate exam.”Dr. Brennan describing Claudel as he walked toward the autopsy room.
“I needed him here like I needed a yeast infection.”Dr. Brennan referring to Claudel.
“If people were graded on handshakes, he’d get a D-minus.”Dr. Brennan, after shaking hands with Father Poirier.
“Each of the names was burned into my mind, like a brand on a heifer’s rump.”Dr. Brennan referring to the murder victims.
“She was thin as soup in a homeless shelter,...”Dr. Brennan referring to Lucie Dumont.
We’re too absorbed in communicating among ourselves to worry about an almighty architect.Highlighted by 74 Kindle customers
I’ve long suspected that many of my memories of childhood are actually drawn from old pictures, that they are a composite of snapshots, a mosaic of celluloid images reworked into a remembered reality. Kodak cast backward. Maybe it’s better to recall the past that way. We rarely take pictures of sad occasions.Highlighted by 48 Kindle customers
“From time to time the human species spawns predators that feed on those around them. They’re not the species. They’re mutations of the species. In my opinion these freaks have no right to suck oxygen from the atmosphere. But they’re here, so I help cage them up and put them where they can’t hurt others. I make life safer for the folks who get up, go to work each day, raise their kids or their tomatoes, or their tropical fish, and watch the ball game in the evening. They are the human species.”Highlighted by 33 Kindle customers
I’d smelled my moonshine sweetheart and seen his light in the eyes around me. I’d loved it once. Hell, I loved it still. But the enchantment would destruct. For me, any trifling dalliance and the affair would consume and overpower. So I’d walked away from it, with twelve slow steps. And I had stayed away. Having been lovers, we could never be friends.Highlighted by 26 Kindle customers
I am a woman whose moods are influenced by the weather, my outlook rising and falling with the barometer.Highlighted by 26 Kindle customers
They never recognized them as the first rungs on a ladder of desperation until they were too high up to get off except by falling.Highlighted by 20 Kindle customers
Ideas come easily to me, enacting them comes harder. I usually let things go. Perhaps it’s an escape hatch, my way of allowing myself to double back and ease out the side door on a lot of my schemes. Irresolute about my social life, obsessive in my work.Highlighted by 20 Kindle customers
When summer arrives in Montreal it flounces in like a rumba dancer: all ruffles and bright cotton, with flashing thighs and sweat-slicked skin.Highlighted by 19 Kindle customers
They ran through the rain, clinging together like socks just out of the dryer.Highlighted by 17 Kindle customers
spurious. I stood and lookedHighlighted by 4 Kindle customers
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