Iíd known Laddigald Venn as a boy, and in my memory he was a titan, peering down at me with a smile that crinkled all the scars on his face. Heíd scared me--that was mostly what I remembered. Little matched that old memory as I looked at him now. For one thing, he was short. But he made up for his shrunken stature by being thrice as thick as ordinary men; he looked like an armoire that had grown ambitious and sprouted legs. He didnít scare me now, and he wasnít smiling. He looked sad and off-kilter,
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BARNES & NOBLE | .44 Saint by Kyle Hannan | NOOK Book (eBook)
Here's a tidbit of .44 Saint, a scene in which our hero is neck-deep in trouble out in a remote farmhouse.
My whole body hurt, but I could move. I could walk without limping. That was all that mattered. That and not giving in to the fear that churned my guts, the fear that wanted me to take off running and get as far away from here as I could. That didnít seem wise.
I couldnít distinguish the bark of a dog from a wolf from an anything, but I could tell the