By Terry Pratchett
Aux enfants ordinaires on offre des xylophones. Suzanne, elle, n’avait qu’à demander à son grand-père d’ôter son gilet...
Oui, elle avait l. a. Mort dans sa famille. Et il est difficile de grandir normalement quand votre aïeul monte un cheval blanc et manie los angeles pretend, surtout quand vous devez reprendre l’affaire familiale pour reason de vacance et que tout le monde vous tient pour l. a. « fée des dents ». Bien plus difficile encore quand il s’agit d’affronter l. a. nouvelle musique – une vraie drogue – qui a fait irruption dans le Disque-monde. Elle n’obéit à aucune loi. Elle transforme les gens. On l’appelle l. a. « musique de rocs ».
Elle est rythmée, dansante, mais...
Elle est vivante.
Et elle ne s’arrête pas.
Read or Download Accros du roc (Les annales du Dique-monde, Tome 16) PDF
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Additional resources for Accros du roc (Les annales du Dique-monde, Tome 16)
The blowing, driving rain felt like knives cutting his cheeks and caused him to duck back under his beaver hat and take a death grip on the saddle. Sure-footed, Scrappy, Roland's 1,100-pound mare, didn't miss a step under him. Rolling her weight back, she slipped down the muddy, slick mountain on her hocks. He felt her grunt, and she sprang forward through a gnarled cedar that stood head-high in her path. The limbs nearly unseated him, and he gripped the horse tighter with his knees and leaned forward over her neck.
Ken laughed. "Yeah, he liked it," Lee said. " "He must not have liked it much," Ken shot back. " Lee paid no attention to Ken and went on with his thought. " "I knew it would remind someone of something," Pete smirked. I settled in against my saddle, thinking I should have put the jacket on thirty minutes ago. Lee took a long drink of coffee and paused to push his Wyatt Earp away from his mouth to stall a beat for effect. Page 26 ''Tell the story," Ken said. " Lee shot Ken a glance that should have froze the coffee he was holding and went into his story.
He felt her grunt, and she sprang forward through a gnarled cedar that stood head-high in her path. The limbs nearly unseated him, and he gripped the horse tighter with his knees and leaned forward over her neck. Roland's fingers were already bloody from pulling saddle leather endeavoring to keep his seat. And why not? he thought. To stay in the saddle in the middle of a mess like this was as much as a fella could hope for. It was almost more than could be hoped for. As the stampede of wild cattle plunged down the mountain, Roland caught a pine branch across the chest, nearly clearing his saddle for the fourth time since this run startedbut he hung on again.