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Blood and Ice
By: Robert Masello , Jay RubineBook Publisher: Random House
Imprint: Random House Publishing Group
Format: ePub Encrypted (DRM)
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Journalist Michael Wilde—his world recently shattered by tragedy—has come to the South Pole looking for solace and a new lease on life. But what he finds on a routine dive in the polar sea is something else entirely: the bodies of a young man and a young woman, bound with chains and sealed forever in a block of ice. Beside them is an ancient chest filled with a sinister cargo. Wilde’s search to unravel the mystery of this doomed couple will lead from the battlefields of the Crimean War to the unexplored depths of the Antarctic Ocean, where an age-old curse survives to this day. And as the ice around the lovers begins to melt, Wilde will witness what may be a miracle—or a nightmare—in the making. What is dead, it turns out, is not always gone.
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| Title of Science Fiction eBook: Blood and Ice | |
| Release Date: 02-24-2009 | |
| Allowed Countries (hover) | |
| Publisher: Random House Publishing Group | Store Sales Rank: 10656 |
This eBook download is available in the following formats:
| Parent title | Blood and Ice |
|---|---|
| Encrypted (DRM) | Yes |
| SKU | 9780553906134 |
| File size | 2205 |
| Internet Security | n/a |
| Printing | Not allowed |
| Copying | Not allowed |
| Read aloud | No Sys requirements Download reader |
| Devices | Samsung Tablet, Apple Ipad & Iphone, Barnes & Noble Nook, Kobo eReader, Aluratek Libre, Iliad, Nokia, Blackberry, Hanlin |
| Note | ePub, short for electronic publication is one of our favorites and should be yours for a couple of reasons. ePub offers reflowable text giving you flexibility to manipulate how the content is presented. Moreover, lots of cool features are now being developed for the reader like advanced video and audio. ePub is now an industry standard, so all of the "non-propreitary" hardware manufacturers are now supporting it. |
Blood and Ice
Chapter One
Present Day
November 19, noon
the doorbell was ringing, and even though Michael heard it, he did not want to wake up; the dream he was in was too comforting. Kristin was with him, and they were driving in his Jeep on a mountain road. She had her bare feet up on the dashboard, the radio was blasting, and she was laughing, her head held back, her blond hair blowing in the wind from the open window.
The doorbell rang again, a series of short bursts. Whoever it was wasn’t going away.
Michael lifted his head from the pillow—why was there an empty bag of Doritos next to his face?—and glanced at the lighted numerals on the clock—11:59. And then, even as he rubbed his eyes, it flicked over to noon.
The doorbell, again.
Michael threw the blanket back, dropped his feet onto the floor. “Yeah, yeah, hold your horses,” he mumbled. He grabbed a bathrobe off the back of the door and shuffled out of the bedroom. Through the opaque glass in the front door, he could see a shape—somebody in a hooded parka—standing on the stoop. Michael moved closer.
“I can see you, too, Michael. Now open the door—it’s freezing out here.”
It was Joe Gillespie, his editor at Eco-Travel Magazine.
Michael turned the bolt and opened the door. A cold rain spattered against his bare legs as his visitor hustled in. “Remind me to get a job on the Miami Herald next time,” Gillespie said, stamping his feet.
Michael picked a sodden copy of the Tacoma News Tribune from the stoop, then gazed off at the shrouded peaks of the Cascade range in the distance. That was why he’d originally bought th...
Present Day
November 19, noon
the doorbell was ringing, and even though Michael heard it, he did not want to wake up; the dream he was in was too comforting. Kristin was with him, and they were driving in his Jeep on a mountain road. She had her bare feet up on the dashboard, the radio was blasting, and she was laughing, her head held back, her blond hair blowing in the wind from the open window.
The doorbell rang again, a series of short bursts. Whoever it was wasn’t going away.
Michael lifted his head from the pillow—why was there an empty bag of Doritos next to his face?—and glanced at the lighted numerals on the clock—11:59. And then, even as he rubbed his eyes, it flicked over to noon.
The doorbell, again.
Michael threw the blanket back, dropped his feet onto the floor. “Yeah, yeah, hold your horses,” he mumbled. He grabbed a bathrobe off the back of the door and shuffled out of the bedroom. Through the opaque glass in the front door, he could see a shape—somebody in a hooded parka—standing on the stoop. Michael moved closer.
“I can see you, too, Michael. Now open the door—it’s freezing out here.”
It was Joe Gillespie, his editor at Eco-Travel Magazine.
Michael turned the bolt and opened the door. A cold rain spattered against his bare legs as his visitor hustled in. “Remind me to get a job on the Miami Herald next time,” Gillespie said, stamping his feet.
Michael picked a sodden copy of the Tacoma News Tribune from the stoop, then gazed off at the shrouded peaks of the Cascade range in the distance. That was why he’d originally bought th...
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