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Shaking Hands with Lefkowitz [MultiFormat]
eBook by Melvin Foster
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$6.99 |
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$5.94 |
eBook Category: Fantasy Dream Realm Award Winner
eBook Description: How much impact can one thoughtless act have upon your life? Unfortunately for Alan Borman, he doesn't discover the answer to that question until after he's been murdered. That's when he discovers the intricate web that connects our every thought and action to the people we encounter. It's when he learns the heavenly accounting system that's far more intricate than he'd ever imagined. Fortunately for Alan Borman, it's still not too late to make amends. Assigned to Interrogation Room 989G, he attempts to solve his murder from the "other side." He will never forget what he learns during the investigation. Neither will you.
eBook Publisher: Zumaya Publications/Zumaya Publications, Published: USA, 2003
Fictionwise Release Date: November 2003
8 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [253 KB]
, ePub (EPUB) [305 KB]
, Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [212 KB]
, Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [756 KB]
, Palm Doc (PDB) [240 KB]
, Microsoft Reader (LIT) [740 KB]
, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [255 KB]
, hiebook (KML) [556 KB]
, Sony Reader (LRF) [320 KB]
, iSilo (PDB) [197 KB]
, Mobipocket (PRC) [247 KB]
, Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [306 KB]
, OEBFF Format (IMP) [323 KB]
Words: 73350 Reading time: 209-293 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: 1934135569

Two technicians rushed to the body, armed with paddles, syringes and, who knows, perhaps a miracle or two. One of them looked up at the detective.
"How long ago was he shot?" he asked. Lefkowitz shook his head. "Fifteen, twenty minutes. I checked for a pulse when I got here. Nada." The urgency seemed to drain from their mission. They administered a cursory examination, noting body temperature and skin tone. Then one of them returned to the truck for the stretcher. There would be no resurrection this afternoon on Ardmore Avenue. The tech set the stretcher down on the high side of the street next to the body, avoiding the pool of blood. Then the two technicians, one gripping hips, the other gripping shoulders, rolled the body face-up and lifted it onto the stretcher. At the sight of the face, I made a noise loud enough to be heard by everyone gathered. Although, to be accurate, I didn't make anything--the noise ripped straight from somewhere deep inside me and brushed my vocal cords like a violin bow shot across a poorly tuned set of strings. In that one instant, all the assumptions I'd made over the course of an otherwise normal lifetime suddenly held as much credence as the primitive's belief that if you took his photo you stole his soul. I went completely numb. "You know him?" Lefkowitz asked. "Yeah," I said, staring directly into the corpse's still-open eyes. "It's me."
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