Deeply Odd (Odd Thomas Series #6)

Deeply Odd (Odd Thomas Series #6)

by Dean Koontz

Paperback(Large Print)

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The pistol appeared in his hand the way a dove appears in the hand of a good magician, as if it materialized out of thin air. “You think I won’t do it right here in the open. But you’d be surprised. . . . You’ll drop before you get the breath to scream.” 

The truck driver is decked out like a rhinestone cowboy, only instead of a guitar he’s slinging a gun—and Odd Thomas is on the wrong end of the barrel. Though he narrowly dodges a bullet, Odd can’t outrun the shocking vision burned into his mind . . . or the destiny that will drive him into a harrowing showdown with absolute evil.
How do you make sure a crime that hasn’t happened yet, never does? That’s the critical question facing Odd Thomas, the young man with a unique ability to commune with restless spirits and help them find justice and peace. But this time, it’s the living who desperately need Odd on their side. Three helpless innocents will be brutally executed unless Odd can intervene in time. Who the potential victims are and where they can be found remain a mystery. The only thing Odd knows for sure is who the killer will be: the homicidal stranger who tried to shoot him dead in a small-town parking lot. 
With the ghost of Alfred Hitchcock riding shotgun and a network of unlikely allies providing help along the way, Odd embarks on an interstate game of cat and mouse with his sinister quarry. He will soon learn that his adversary possesses abilities that may surpass his own and operates in service to infinitely more formidable foes, with murder a mere prelude to much deeper designs. Traveling across a landscape haunted by portents of impending catastrophe, Odd will do what he must and go where his path leads him, drawing ever closer to the dark heart of his long journey—and, perhaps, to the bright light beyond.

Praise for Deeply Odd and Dean Koontz’s Odd Thomas series
“Not since Watchers has Dean Koontz created such an endearing and enduring character as Odd Thomas. . . . One of our contemporary masters.”San Antonio Express-News
“[A] popular series . . . Koontz asks real questions about the nature of good and evil.”—The New York Times Book Review
“Odd evokes the homespun wisdom of Forrest Gump amid the mind-spinning adventures of a Jack Bauer. . . . The ultimate Everyman . . . an avatar of hope and honor and courage for all of us—the linchpin of a rollicking good tale.”—BookPage
“There’s never anything predictable about an Odd Thomas adventure. Another satisfying entry in this wildly popular series. It’s Koontz, and it’s Odd. Class dismissed.”Booklist

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781594137617
Publisher: Gale Group
Publication date: 06/03/2014
Series: Odd Thomas Series , #6
Edition description: Large Print
Pages: 476
Product dimensions: 5.50(w) x 8.40(h) x 1.10(d)

About the Author

Dean Koontz, the author of many #1 New York Times bestsellers, lives in Southern California with his wife, Gerda, their golden retriever, Elsa, and the enduring spirit of their goldens, Trixie and Anna.


Newport Beach, California

Date of Birth:

July 9, 1945

Place of Birth:

Everett, Pennsylvania


B.S. (major in English), Shippensburg University, 1966

Read an Excerpt


Before dawn, I woke in darkness to the ringing of a tiny bell, the thimble-­size bell that I wore on a chain around my neck: three bursts of silvery sound, a brief silence after each. I was lying on my back in bed, utterly motionless, yet the bell rang three times again. The vibrations that shivered through my bare chest seemed much too strong to have been produced by such a tiny clapper. A third set of three rings followed, and then only silence. I waited and wondered until dawn crept down the sky and across the bedroom windows.

Later that morning in early March, when I walked downtown to buy blue jeans and a few pairs of socks, I met a guy who had a .45 pistol and a desire to commit a few murders. From that encounter, the day grew uglier as surely as the sun moved from east to west.

My name is Odd Thomas. I have accepted my oddness. And I am no longer surprised that I am drawn to trouble as reliably as iron to a magnet.

Nineteen months ago, when I was twenty, I should have been riddled with bullets in that big-­news shopping-­mall shoot-­out in Pico Mundo, a desert town in California. They say that I saved a lot of people in my hometown. Yet many died. I didn’t. I have to live with that.

Stormy Llewellyn, the girl I loved more than life itself, was one of those who died that day. I saved others, but I couldn’t save her. I have to live with that, too. Living is the price I pay for failing her, a high price that must be paid every morning that I wake.

In the nineteen months since that day of death, I have traveled in search of the meaning of my life. I learn by going where I have to go.

Currently I rented a quaint, furnished three-­bedroom cottage in a quiet coastal town a couple of hundred miles from Pico Mundo. The front porch faced the sea, and yellow bougainvillea cascaded across half the roof.

Annamaria, whom I had known only since late January, occupied one of the bedrooms. She appeared to be ready to give birth in about a month, but she claimed that she had been pregnant for a long time and insisted that she would be pregnant longer still.

Although she said many things that I failed to understand, I believed that she always spoke the truth. She was mysterious but not deceptive.

We were friends, never paramours. A lover who is enigmatic will most likely prove to be a cataclysm waiting to happen. But a charming friend whose usual warmth is raveled through with moments of cool inscrutability can be an intriguing companion.

The morning when I set out on a shopping expedition, Annamaria followed me as far as the porch. She said, “Daylight savings time doesn’t start for another five days.”

At the bottom of the steps, I turned to look at her. She wasn’t a beauty, but she wasn’t plain, either. Her clear pale skin appeared to be as smooth as soap, and her large dark eyes, which reflected the sparkling sea, seemed as deep as galaxies. In sneakers, gray-­khaki pants, and a baggy sweater, she was so petite that she might have been a child dressed in her father’s clothes.

Not sure why she had mentioned daylight savings time, I said, “I won’t be long. I’ll be back hours before sunset.”

“Darkness doesn’t fall to a predictable schedule. Darkness can overwhelm you any time of the day, as you know too well.”

She once told me that there are people who want to kill her. Although she had said no more and had not identified her would-­be murderers, I believed that she was as truthful about this as about all other things.

“I’ll stay here if you’re in danger.”

“You’re the one in danger, young man. Here or there, anywhere, you’re the one perpetually on the cliff’s edge.”

She was eighteen, and I was nearly twenty-­two, but when she called me young man, it always felt right. She possessed an air of timelessness, as if she might have lived in any century of recorded history, or in all of them.

“Do what you must,” she said, “but come back to us.”

Do what you must sounded ominously significant, not the language one might use to send a friend off to buy socks.

From behind Annamaria and beyond a window, Tim watched solemnly. Crowding close to him on the left and right, paws on the windowsill, gazing out at me, were our two dogs, a golden retriever named Raphael and a white German shepherd named Boo. Only nine years old, Tim had been with us for over one month, after we rescued him from an estate called Roseland, in the sleepy town of Montecito. I’ve written about that ordeal in a previous volume of these memoirs. We were his only family now. Because of his unique history, we would soon need to fabricate an identity into which he could grow in the years to come.

My life is as odd as my name.

Tim waved at me. I waved at Tim.

Just before stepping out of the house, I had asked the boy if he wanted to accompany me. But with a benign smile, Annamaria had said that neither Xerxes nor Leonidas had invited small children to accompany them to Thermopylae.

In 480 b.c., three hundred Spartans under the command of Leonidas had for a while held at bay two hundred thousand Persians under Xerxes in the battle of Thermopylae, before being slaughtered. I failed to see the similarity between my modest shopping expedition and one of the fiercest military engagements in history.

Even though it is always fruitless to seek an explanation from Annamaria when she makes such baffling statements, I considered asking for amplification. But she had opened the door for me, had waved me out of the kitchen, followed me onto the porch, and stood smiling at me as I looked back at her from the bottom of the steps. The moment to press her for elucidation seemed to have passed.

Annamaria’s smile is so comforting that, in its radiance, you can almost believe that this world offers nothing more threatening than what you’d find in Pooh Corner—­in spite of her references to the slaughter of the Spartans.

I said, “The bell rang last night.”

“Yes, I know.”

I didn’t think she could have heard it from her room, through two closed doors.

Previously she had told me that if the bell rang in the night, we would soon thereafter move on to a new place.

She said, “I’ll see you again when the wind blows the water white and black,” and she turned away, retreating into the cottage.

Beyond the beach, the sea spread blue to the horizon. The day remained still and mild, and the sky was so clear that it seemed I should be able to discern the stars in spite of the sunshine that concealed them.

Not mystified but certainly bewildered, I walked north half a mile to the heart of the village, with a wariness that I hadn’t felt minutes earlier. Shaded by ancient California live oaks, the downtown shopping area was a three-­lane street flanked by just six blocks of stores, restaurants, and quaint inns. If you wanted a real town, you had to go up the coast to Santa Barbara.

I didn’t know that a guy would soon offer to neuter me or that he would be carrying a pistol fitted with a sound suppressor. I have a psychic gift that occasionally includes a prophetic dream, but when awake, I do not see moments of the future.

When I first noticed the truck that pricked my curiosity, I did not realize that a formidable enemy was behind the steering wheel. I didn’t even get a glimpse of the driver.

My unrelenting curiosity has gotten me in big trouble. It has also saved my butt a lot of times. On balance, it’s a plus. And it isn’t true that curiosity killed the cat. Usually, cats are done in by coyotes or Peterbilts.

Anyway, my curiosity is part of my gift, my sixth sense. I am compelled to indulge it.

The truck was an eighteen-­wheel ProStar+. The cool-­looking, aerodynamic tractor with the massive grille and lizard-­eye headlights was painted red and black with sparkly silver striping. The black trailer bore no corporate logo or advertising.

As I reached the shopping district, the eighteen-­wheeler cruised past me, into the heart of the village, heading north. Without realizing what I was doing, I picked up my pace to a racewalk. When the ProStar+ braked at a stop sign, I almost caught up with it.

As the behemoth accelerated across the intersection, I began to run, which was when I realized that I knew intuitively something about the truck must be evil.

Well, not the ProStar+ itself. I’m not one who believes that a vehicle can be possessed by a demonic spirit and, driverless, speed around town to run down people for the thrill of tasting blood with its tires, any more than I believe that Herbie, the Volkswagen in that series of Disney movies, had a mind of its own with a desire to bring lovers together and to thwart villains. If you believe the former, you have to believe the latter, and the next thing you know, you’ll be taking your Ford, with its sexy GPS voice, to the car wash just to see her naked and soapy.

I fell rapidly behind the truck, but then, near the northern end of the village, it turned left off the street, toward a supermarket. If the driver had been making a delivery, he would have gone behind the building to the loading dock. Instead, he pulled to a stop across several parking spaces at the end of the lot nearest to the street.

By the time I reached the eighteen-­wheeler, where it stood in the trembling shade of a row of breeze-­stirred eucalyptuses, it was unattended. Catching my breath, I walked slowly around the vehicle, looking it over.

My intuition bristled like the hackles on a dog. Heightened intuition is part of my sixth sense.

The day was mild, the breeze mellow, but the area immediately around the truck was colder than could be explained by eucalyptus shade alone. When I put the palm of one hand against the sidewall of the trailer, it felt as though the driver had pulled off the road to wait out a blinding snow squall at high elevation.

This wasn’t what truckers called a reefer, which hauled frozen food. No refrigeration unit was mounted on the front wall of the trailer, behind the tractor.

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Deeply Odd: A Novel 4.2 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 173 reviews.
skylisemo More than 1 year ago
Dean Koontz is an exceptional writer, and the Odd Thomas series is some of his best work. There seemed to be a few years where he was just releasing some books to fulfill his contract with his publisher, but those days seem over. A very good writer telling a story he clearly loves telling. Hopefully the movie(s) does his series justice. 
XXXOOOBookwormOOOXXX More than 1 year ago
On a trip to town Odd has an encounter with a flamboyantly dressed trucker whom he refers to as the Rhinestone Cowboy. He has a vision of him burning three children on stage with a flamethrower and follows the trucker to a market where he disappears. Odd knows his next quest has begun. He meets Edie Fischer, an 86 year old pixyish FBI Agent Dana Scully look alike, who is in need of a chauffeur. Odd reluctantly accepts this roll as he needs a vehicle in which to follow the Rhinestone Cowboy to a truck stop. Here we meet the Koontz obligatory "Celeb du Libra" Alfred Hitchcock. The reader begins to suspect that the Rhinestone Cowboy might have as many paranormal talents as Odd making him a formidable adversary. Odd, who believes that intuition is the highest form of knowledge knows he must play out this drama to save the three children as he continues the pursuit and follows the monster along the highways and byways of California and into his hellish chimeras.This novel, "Deeply Odd", is a great story for the most part. Odd Thomas is here using his psychic magnetism to track down the "rhinestone cowboy trucker" who has powers of his own. That was a nice twist, as we saw that Odd wasn't the only person in the world with a touch of the supernatural on their lives. Unfortunately, the things that made the first book so interesting have slowly begun to fade away in the last two or three novels in the series. I am all for character growth, but it seems as if Dean has almost lost his original idea of what made Odd so special and has been moving him into a new character. For one thing, in this novel the inner monologues become incredibly chatty, sometimes meandering so long you forget what Odd was doing at that point. Annamarie is another problem. I can fully appreciate the enigmatic angle Dean is going for with her, but she is so otherworldly now (appearing out of nowhere in a thrift store hundreds of miles away from where Odd left her, only to find she isn't really there but is still at home but WAS there hours ago...with no transportation of any kind) she's almost ridiculous. You just got love love Odd. 
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I couldnt put this book down. I was anxious for the release and was not dissapointed. This was worth the wait and was an enjoyable read.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Another great book by Dean Koontz, He starts the action off pretty fast in this book and that's really good and stops every so often for a comedic break so in the norm for odd thomas novels I'm sad the series is ending in the next book but every good series must come to an end
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Couldn't put this one down. Listened to it on audio and finished it in two days. I really enjoyed the ending of the book along with the new characters. Dean Koontz did great on this one 
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Well written and oddly funny/inspiring/disturbing!
j_anfinson More than 1 year ago
Got it on Friday and couldn't hardly put it down. Read it in two sittings. Very well done, and now I can't wait for the final book.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I love the Oddie books but I could not get into it. Gave up after pg. 100...
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This is a wonderful series and this is my favorite book of the series. I hope there are more to come.
Dragonfly120 More than 1 year ago
Just finished this book.  I've read them all and once done you can't wait for the next book.  I highly recommend this Odd story
Debi1 More than 1 year ago
How Disappointing. I am a Koontz fan from way back & have all his books, most twice. I love Odd, but Deeply Odd is such a disappointment that I will not buy another book just because Koontz wrote it. For one the book really lacks a plot or anything else for that matter, unless you want to call pages upon pages and chapters upon chapters of him describing to you what a warehouse looks like and scenery on road trips look like; because that is what this book is all about. Right from the get go Koontz tells you that off has a vision about a truck driver killing some kids, he does not even peak your interest with this. I felt I knew the ending before it even began. He did introduce 2 new characters he could have developed quite nicely but of course he didn't which was another disappointment. The take I got from this book is that Koontz either had someone else write this for him...since Odd did not even sound like Odd on the few occasions he even spoke or did something other describe things in the book, or Koontz has major writers block and owed a publishing company a novel with so many words...since that is all this book is is WORDS with no purpose or intent. I'd just like to know how he managed to screw up a book about such a well established character as Odd. Like others who are Odd fans I would have like to have seen Odd meet up with Chris Snow or Deucalion. I mean really even if he had writers block there was so many other places he could have gone with this story than to just give us a bunch of meaningless descriptions that basically had nothing to do with the story other than fill up pages. No writer can put out great story's every time, but how can you screw up such a wonderfully established character such as Odd....from this point on I will be going to B&N book stores and using my hour free read on my Nook before buying one of his books. I was not too happy with his last book 77 Shadow Street either, I felt the same way, that he was just trying to fill pages with words. Such a disappointment to lose one of your favorite authors.     
donlow More than 1 year ago
"Deeply Odd" the newest addition to the Odd Thomas series is an enthralling tale. This novel grabs your attention from page one and does not dissapoint. "Deeply Odd" is possibly the best novel in the series thus far.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I have been reading Dean Koontz since before he became DEAN KOONTZ - every single book! Loved the beginning of the ODD series. Dean should have stopped at #5! His writing is just rambling on to fill up the pages and satisfy the terms of his contract? Very un-Koontz like - terribly disappointed!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I have been a big fan of Dean Koontz' work for years, but it seems that this book failed to hit the high mark found in earlier books. Side characters are underdeveloped and shallow, the story/plot barely keeps one engaged, and most of the book is full of "writers fluff"- non-essential, flowery descriptions of places, etc., that do nothing to move the story forward. Mr Koontz must have been given a short deadline from his publisher on this one...seems like he just went through the motions to knock a book out.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I love this series, and the first was the best! However in the character of Edie, Koontz once again captures us with an incredible character! A definite must read series!
Kshell More than 1 year ago
Very likable characters, but actually just a so-so plot. I love Koontz and read all of his books, but this one wasn't his best effort in my humble opinion. I had high expectations for this latest installment in the Odd Series, but felt kinda let down.
Wicked_Stepmother More than 1 year ago
I love Dean Koontz. I have been reading his books for over 20 years. But I suggest that Mr. Koontz put quality ahead of quantity and stop a series before it bores hisreaders to death. This book totally jumped the shark! Disappointed!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Love the character but more and more getting the feeling Koontz is losing the soul of the character. Story is weak compared to earlier novels. It seems author does not love the character as I do, but loves the money. So many possibilities........
Jackie81JW More than 1 year ago
All of the other books in this series grabbed me from Chapter One. I was struggling to get through the first three Chapters of Deeply Odd. The personal attatchment just wasn't there for me. I usually read these books in three to four days. It took me two weeks this time. I hope the next one doesn't disappoint. I would truely miss Odd.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
If you enjoy te odd series, you will like this. It starts off slow, but has a good finish.
JPRISS More than 1 year ago
Every time I read a Dean Koontz book I tell myself I'm never buying another. There's just too much preaching. But, I can't resist the story line, although there's less and less actual story and more and more whining about man's inhumanity/evil/selfishnish.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Somewhat dissapointed,not his usual ghostly story,I don't believe Odd helped any spirits to "see the light" however I did enjoy his new sidekick Edie,quite the character.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Odd Thomas is a fascinating character, told with humor and wisdom, at times. However, this particular book seemed to be more a vehicle for Mr. Koontz to ramble through his philosophy. I found this tiresome and ended up skimming through those passages. Pity to ruin such a good yarn with boring, self-serving drivel.
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