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Table of contents
PREFACE
CHAPTER-1-2
CHAPTER-3
CHAPTER-4-5-6-7
CHAPTER-8-9
CHAPTER-10-11
CHAPTER-12-13-14-15
CHAPTER-16-17
CHAPTER-18-19
CHAPTER-20-21-22
CHAPTER-23-24-25
CHAPTER-26-27-28
CHAPTER-29-30
CHAPTER-31.1
CHAPTER-31.2
CHAPTER-31.3
CHAPTER-32
CHAPTER-33
CHAPTER-34-35-36-37-38
CHAPTER-39-40-41-42
CHAPTER-43-44-45
CHAPTER-46-47
CHAPTER-48
CHAPTER-49-50
CHAPTER-51
CHAPTER-52-53
The Sex Life of the Gods. Michael Knerr. CHAPTER-1-2
CHAPTER-3
CHAPTER-4
CHAPTER-5-6
CHAPTER-7-8
CHAPTER-9-10
CHAPTER-11-12
CHAPTER-13-14
CHAPTER-15-16
CHAPTER-17-18

Everett, two years before, when Beth hadn't been able to get into town 

and wanted to surprise Nick with it! Stunned and puzzled, Brice dropped 

the watch into his pocket and decided not to say anything to Cartwell 

and Morgan. Maybe it would cost him, later, but he couldn't tell them - 

not until he had a better picture of what the hell was going on. 

 

He lit another cigarette and stood there thinking about the watch. How 

had it gotten here? Nick didn't know how to fly a plane, and even if he 

had studied the art, could he fly an aircraft that cleared a speed of 

two thousand miles per hour? Hell no! Nor had the watch been there, in 

the weather, all this time. 

 

Of course, Nick could have hocked the damned thing in some town when he 

needed money, and by some quirk of fate it had been brought back to the 

same area it had left over a year before. That was possible, but Brice 

didn't believe it. It just didn't fit. 

 

"Seen enough?" 

 

Brice turned and saw Cartwell standing behind him. How long has he been 

there, he wondered, and forced a grin. The stocky built blond grinned 

back at him. 

 

"Thought you might want a cup of coffee," he said. 

 

"Where the hell will you get coffee out here?" 

 

Cartwell waved an arm toward the foot of the hills. "A farm down there. 

They wake up early around here. Sam conned the farmer's wife into making 

coffee for the boys. Want some?" 

 

"Might as well. We have a few minutes - in fact, we have a lot of time, 

before daylight." 

 

"Getting tired?" Cartwell asked, as they started down the hill past the 

ring of soldiers. 

 

"A little. More like anxious to find out what the tale is on that 

wreck." 

 

"You've been talking to Dickson, I see." 

 

Brice nodded. "Yeah. Well, one thing we know. It's apparently some kind 

of experimental aircraft ... like a rocket, or something. And, if it 

isn't one of ours..." Brice left it hang and Cartwell didn't pick it up. 

 

For a few minutes they walked in silence through the dew splattered 

forests, homing in on the glow of yellow lights that winked at them 

through the branches. Finally they reached the rutted, dirt road that 

twisted along the stream bed toward the framed shape of the farm house. 

Cartwell broke the silence as they neared the place. 

 

"Don't talk much about the wreck around these people, Nolan. They're 

nice folks, but simple natured. They plant by the phases of the moon and 

the biggest event in their lives is going to the state fair. They're 

Lancaster Dutch, recently imported, and they believe in the hex signs 

they painted on the barn." 

 

Brice nodded. "Okay, John." 

 

The farm couple were strangers to Brice, but their type was familiar. 

Pennsylvania was full of them. They were, as Cartwell had said, good 

people. They were farmers, about three jumps above the witchcraft 


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