By Jeff Strand

Fireplace ants. even if they're common sized, they're terrible, wretched bugs whose sting motives burning pain.

But those ants are faraway from common. And the town of Tampa, Florida has turn into infested with the outsized creatures.

From the demented writer of GRAVEROBBERS sought after (NO event worthy) and strain comes a relentlessly paced novel of insect terror. because the urban descends into natural chaos on a scorching summer season afternoon prior to the Fourth of July weekend, 4 teams of survivors needs to make their option to protection, earlier millions of hyper-aggressive ants that may end you off with only one searing sting.

Dustin, an entomologist, can have the key to what's occurring. regrettably, he's being held hostage by way of a couple of psychopathic comfort shop robbers who're simply as satisfied to enable the town burn.

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Was it possible? To know so many things, to be pure magic, and not know that? Yes, if she was really only a child. "Sit down here. Sit next to me. I want you to tell me everything that's happened, from the minute you came back to be with Phil. Will you do that? " Wonder belongs to children, so when they talk about it, it's usually in the relaxed, reasonable voice of longtime residents. More than real life, wonder is their home. They believe in miracles, people with successful wings, religion. "Impossible" is an enemy, gravity too, our mundane and inappropriate schedules for them.

_ _The first few takes it was funny. But you can laugh only so many times at a slipup. _ _The fifth or sixth time nothing happened, I was about to call Cut! when someone let zap a blast that sounded like a tugboat crossing the harbor. Everyone on the set cheered_. _Looking out over the congregation, I did a double-take when I saw a new face that hadn't been there before. _ _A little girl, but what a little girl! Short hair, gorgeous features. She stood out from those rats like a small but brilliant acetylene flame.

Some combination, huh? Life and death living in one stomach, hand in hand! " "We can talk whenever you want. " When things are bad I often go into the nearest kitchen and cook. I try to make the acts of cutting and measuring, pouring and stirring, into little Zen masterpieces that, taken together, might someday metamorphose into mini-Satori. I don't close my eyes and shoot arrows into bull's-eyes, I stir-fry. While I put things together, Sasha asked if it'd be all right to go in and lie down till lunch was ready.

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