'The glass enclosure exploded outwards. Stabbing spears pierced his left side. But he barely felt the cuts as a wave of blast-furnace heat struck him, searing, burning away all the oxygen. The next explosion ripped Harry from his feet and threw his body clear across the gallery. But only flaming bones hit the security gate, melting themselves into ...
'The glass enclosure exploded outwards. Stabbing spears pierced his left side. But he barely felt the cuts as a wave of blast-furnace heat struck him, searing, burning away all the oxygen. The next explosion ripped Harry from his feet and threw his body clear across the gallery. But only flaming bones hit the security gate, melting themselves into the steel grating...' Lady Kara Kensington's family paid a high price in money and blood to found the gallery that now lies in ruins. And her search for answers is about to lead her into a world she never imagined existed: a lost city, buried beneath the Arabian desert, where something astonishing is waiting...A covert government operative hunting down a traitor is being drawn there as well. But at the end of a perilous journey lies an ageless power that can create a utopia - or tear down everything humankind has built over millennia of civilisation...
Publishers Weekly, 2004-06-21 If he weren't such a good action writer, Rollins might make a dynamite climatologist. Each of his thrillers has featured as a central character an extreme environment, most recently the Arctic ice (Ice Hunt, 2003) and now the hot sands of Saudi Arabia. But while Rollins writes settings and scenes that sizzle, what's caught in the heat are usually familiar characters grappling with far-fetched threats, and so it is here. That one male lead is a danger-courting archeologist named Omaha Dunn seems less parodic than tired, and the novel's premise of a hoard of antimatter hidden in the legendary city of Ubar is almost as ridiculous as the idea that this cache has been guarded for millennia by an order of women who propagate without men, via parthenogenesis. Rollins writes less like Michael Crichton than Stan Lee. Most of his readers won't care, though, because there's just enough scientific gloss on the nonsense to make it palatable, and anyway, what they want, and what he delivers, is action, as Omaha and an American military agent, Painter, join forces with two Mideastern women, one a scientist, the other a billionaire, to locate the steadily destabilizing antimatter before it's snatched by a villainous cabal, or worse, blows up the planet. And that's why they'll buy this book in numbers big enough to have it flirt with national bestseller lists. Agent, Russell Galen. (July) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
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