Harpy’s Flight

Harpy’s Flight
Автор книги: id книги: 1760064     Оценка: 0.0     Голосов: 0     Отзывы, комментарии: 0 312,52 руб.     (3,05$) Читать книгу Купить и скачать книгу Купить бумажную книгу Электронная книга Жанр: Классическая проза Правообладатель и/или издательство: HarperCollins Дата добавления в каталог КнигаЛит: ISBN: 9780007380534 Скачать фрагмент в формате   fb2   fb2.zip Возрастное ограничение: 0+ Оглавление Отрывок из книги

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Описание книги

A reissue of classic backlist titles from the author of the best selling Farseer Trilogy and The Liveship Traders books. HARPY'S FLIGHT was Lindholm's first novel, and the first in the WINDSINGERS series, which introduced her popular gypsy characters, Ki and Vandien.Harpies don't give up of blood debts. Neither do the men who serve them. A life must be given in return.Devastated by the slaughter of her family and haunted by memories of her own violent revenge, Ki rejects the comfort of her husband's gypsy people and wants only to wander in solitude as an outcast.Across mountains sheathed with ice, through the treacherous shadow of the impassable Sisters, Ki finds herself running for her life, pursued by frenzied Harpies sworn to vengeance; and by one stubborn, dark-haired man who seems intent on being part of her future.

Оглавление

Megan Lindholm. Harpy’s Flight

Harpy’s Flight. Book One of the Windsingers Series. Robin Hobb

Copyright

Contents

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

If you enjoyed Harpy’s Flight, check out these other great Megan Lindholm titles

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Cover

Title Page

.....

Or so she thought as she raised her eyes for one look at the twisted apple tree that had been a trysting place for them. Her eyes froze. A young man stood there, his hair pale in the evening light. A farmer’s smock hung nearly to his knees. His light hair hung long and loose to his shoulders, as befitted a man unspoken for. Ki’s tongue clove to the roof of her mouth as he lifted one arm in greeting. In a dream, she stopped the horses. Sven came across the meadow to her, silently, moving through the tall grasses in the graceful stride she knew so well. She dared not speak, lest she break the spell. She did not care how this could be. Just let him keep coming closer. As he drew near, the trueness of his features did not alter. He did not fade nor float as a ghost should; she heard the brush of the grasses against his striding legs.

Her heart fell. That tenor voice was not Sven’s but that of Lars. Lars, the youngest brother, as like to Sven as ever.

.....

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