La Hora De La Verdad Suzanne Brockmann

ISBN: 9788496711075

Published: since 1993, Suzanne is widely recognized as one of the leading voices in suspense...

Genres

Quotes

Mol, its not probably nothing if they fucking want you to go to Germany.
She winced, and he turned to the people-mostly women- who were filling most of those waiting room seat.
Excuse me. This doctor thinks my wife, whom I love more than life, has breast cancer, so Im going to say fuck probably about ten more times. Is that okay with all of you?
You have something to say to me, Cassidy, say it. Or shut the fuck up.”
“All right,” Jules said. “I will.” He took a deep breath. Exhaled. “Okay, see, I, well, I love you. Very, very much, and . . .” Where to go from here . . .?
Except, his plain-spoken words earned him not just a glance but Max’s sudden full and complete attention. Which was a little alarming.
But it was the genuine concern in Max’s eyes that truly caught Jules off-guard.
Max actually thought . . . Jules laughed his surprise. “Oh! No, not like that. I meant it, you know, in a totally platonic, non-gay way.”
Jules saw comprehension and relief on Max’s face. The man was tired if he was letting such basic emotions show.
“Sorry.” Max even smiled. “I just . . .” He let out a burst of air. “I mean, talk about making things even more complicated . . .”
It was amazing. Max hadn’t recoiled in horror at the idea. His concern had been for Jules, about potentially hurting his tender feelings. And even now, he wasn’t trying to turn it all into a bad joke.
And he claimed they weren’t friends.
Jules felt his throat tighten. “You can’t know,” he told his friend quietly, “how much I appreciate your acceptance and respect.”
“My father was born in India,” Max told him, “in 1930. His mother was white—American. His father was not just Indian, but lower caste. The intolerance he experienced both there and later, even in America, made him a . . . very bitter, very hard, very, very unhappy man.” He glanced at Jules again. “I know personality plays into it, and maybe you’re just stronger than he was, but . . . People get knocked down all the time. They can either stay there, wallow in it, or . . . Do what you’ve done—what you do. So yeah. I respect you more than you know.”
Holy shit.
Weeping was probably a bad idea, so Jules grabbed onto the alternative. He made a joke. “I wasn’t aware that you even had a father. I mean, rumors going around the office have you arriving via flying saucer—”
“I would prefer not to listen to aimless chatter all night long,” Max interrupted him. “So if you’ve made your point . . .?”
Ouch.
“Okay,” Jules said. “I’m so not going to wallow in that. Because I do have a point. See, I said what I said because I thought I’d take the talk-to-an-eight-year-old approach with you. You know, tell you how much I love you and how great you are in part one of the speech—”
“Speech.” Max echoed.
“Because part two is heavily loaded with the silent-but-implied ‘you are such a freaking idiot.’”
“Ah, Christ,” Max muttered.
“So, I love you,” Jules said again, “in a totally buddy-movie way, and I just want to say that I also really love working for you, and I hope to God you’ll come back so I can work for you again. See, I love the fact that you’re my leader not because you were appointed

Paperback

480 pages


Description

La Hora De La Verdad  by  Suzanne Brockmann

La Hora De La Verdad by Suzanne Brockmann
since 1993, Suzanne is widely recognized as one of the leading voices in suspense...

Genres

Quotes

Mol, its not probably nothing if they fucking want you to go to Germany.
She winced, and he turned to the people-mostly women- who were filling most of those waiting room seat.
Excuse me. This doctor thinks my wife, whom I love more than life, has breast cancer, so Im going to say fuck probably about ten more times. Is that okay with all of you?
You have something to say to me, Cassidy, say it. Or shut the fuck up.”
“All right,” Jules said. “I will.” He took a deep breath. Exhaled. “Okay, see, I, well, I love you. Very, very much, and . . .” Where to go from here . . .?
Except, his plain-spoken words earned him not just a glance but Max’s sudden full and complete attention. Which was a little alarming.
But it was the genuine concern in Max’s eyes that truly caught Jules off-guard.
Max actually thought . . . Jules laughed his surprise. “Oh! No, not like that. I meant it, you know, in a totally platonic, non-gay way.”
Jules saw comprehension and relief on Max’s face. The man was tired if he was letting such basic emotions show.
“Sorry.” Max even smiled. “I just . . .” He let out a burst of air. “I mean, talk about making things even more complicated . . .”
It was amazing. Max hadn’t recoiled in horror at the idea. His concern had been for Jules, about potentially hurting his tender feelings. And even now, he wasn’t trying to turn it all into a bad joke.
And he claimed they weren’t friends.
Jules felt his throat tighten. “You can’t know,” he told his friend quietly, “how much I appreciate your acceptance and respect.”
“My father was born in India,” Max told him, “in 1930. His mother was white—American. His father was not just Indian, but lower caste. The intolerance he experienced both there and later, even in America, made him a . . . very bitter, very hard, very, very unhappy man.” He glanced at Jules again. “I know personality plays into it, and maybe you’re just stronger than he was, but . . . People get knocked down all the time. They can either stay there, wallow in it, or . . . Do what you’ve done—what you do. So yeah. I respect you more than you know.”
Holy shit.
Weeping was probably a bad idea, so Jules grabbed onto the alternative. He made a joke. “I wasn’t aware that you even had a father. I mean, rumors going around the office have you arriving via flying saucer—”
“I would prefer not to listen to aimless chatter all night long,” Max interrupted him. “So if you’ve made your point . . .?”
Ouch.
“Okay,” Jules said. “I’m so not going to wallow in that. Because I do have a point. See, I said what I said because I thought I’d take the talk-to-an-eight-year-old approach with you. You know, tell you how much I love you and how great you are in part one of the speech—”
“Speech.” Max echoed.
“Because part two is heavily loaded with the silent-but-implied ‘you are such a freaking idiot.’”
“Ah, Christ,” Max muttered.
“So, I love you,” Jules said again, “in a totally buddy-movie way, and I just want to say that I also really love working for you, and I hope to God you’ll come back so I can work for you again. See, I love the fact that you’re my leader not because you were appointed | Paperback | PDF, EPUB, FB2, DjVu, audiobook, mp3, ZIP | 480 pages | ISBN: 9788496711075 | 5.46 Mb

Apasionadas historias de amor se cruzan con arriesgadas misiones de espionaje, intriga y mucha acción en esta nueva novela de Suzanne Brockmann en la que retoma algunos personajes de sus anteriores best-sellers. Max, un curtido agente del FBI, haMoreApasionadas historias de amor se cruzan con arriesgadas misiones de espionaje, intriga y mucha acción en esta nueva novela de Suzanne Brockmann en la que retoma algunos personajes de sus anteriores best-sellers. Max, un curtido agente del FBI, ha roto su relación con Gina, una joven a la que conoció en las más increíbles circunstancias durante un secuestro aéreo.

A pesar de la pasión que siente por ella, todo el valor que tiene en el cumplimiento de su deber le falta a la hora de comprometerse con una mujer. Gina se marcha a África, donde no tardará en verse metida en problemas por culpa de su amiga Molly y su poco recomendable novio David Jones, un mercenario con muchas deudas pendientes entre la mafia. Con la única ayuda de su agente más fiable, Jules Cassidy, Max intentará rescatar con vida a las mujeres...

y darse a sí mismo una segunda oportunidad para ser feliz.



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