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Quote by Dean Koontz

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The Bad Place

In this gripping psychological thriller, readers are drawn into a world where the line between reality and madness blurs. The narrative delves into the depths of a character's mind, unraveling a tale of psychological turmoil and the consequences of hidden desires. more

Author

Dean Koontz
Dean Koontz

Renowned American author known for his suspense and horror novels. He has been writing since the 1970s and his works have been widely popular, winning numerous international awards. more

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“The moment my head touched my pillow, I heard Nicolae in my mind: 'So: my little theatricals were well received?' 'You made an excellent impression,' I replied in thought, with a little smile. 'I feel you smiling. I wish I was there to see it.' I stifled a surprised gasp. 'How does this bond work between us? Can you read my thoughts at any time, or only if I send them to you?' 'I can read your mind at any time now, my darling.”

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“Saintcrow's image immediately sprang to the forefront of her mind. Piercing dark eyes. Broad shoulders. A massive chest. Long, long legs. Large hands... She shivered, remembering the touch of those hands in her hair, on her skin. The way his tongue had ravaged her mouth... "Vampire." She forced the word past her lips. "Vampire," she repeated, more forcefully this time. But first a man. Saintcrow's voice slid through her mind like honey warmed by the sun. A man who wants you. Who burns for your touch. Who hungers for your sweetness.”

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“I'm here to talk to Serena only," he said firmly. Then the air filled with a sweet, musky fragrance and a delicate hand covered the face of Jimena's watch. He looked up into Serena's eyes. She leaned against Jimena, her arm around her friend, and smiled at Stanton. She was wearing tight jeans and a sheer long-sleeved pink shirt over a thin T. Her hair was curled and glistened in the sun. She looked more beautiful than ever. He smiled, wondering why he hadn't sensed her approach. Maybe she had learned some new skill to hide her presence. She gently probed his mind without trying to hide her happiness at seeing him. "I need to talk to you," he said, interrupting her before she could probe too deep. He didn't want her to see how much he had missed her.”

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“Look into the bastard's mind." "I can't do that, Ziller." "Why not?" "It is one of the very few more-or-less unbreakable rules of the Culture. Nearly a law. If we had laws, it would be of the first on the statue book." "Only more-or-less unbreakable?" "It is done very, very rarely, and the results tend to be ostracism. There was a ship called the Grey Area, once. It used to do that sort of thing. It became known as the Meatfucker as a result. When you look up the catalogs that's the name it's listed under, with its original, chosen name as a footnote. To be denied your self-designated name is a unique insult in the Culture, Ziller. The vessel disappeared some time ago. Probably killed itself, arguably as a result of the shame attached to such behavior and resulting disrespect." "All it is is looking inside an animal brain." "That's just it. It is so easy, and it would mean so little, really. That is why the not-doing of it is probably the most profound manner in which we honor our biological progenitors. This prohibition is a mark of our respect. And so I cannot do it." "You mean you won't do it." "They are almost the same thing." "You have the ability." "Of course.”

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