Tyrannosaur Canyon

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Overview

A moon rock missing for thirty years...

Five buckets of blood-soaked sand found in a New Mexico canyon...

A scientist with ambition enough to kill...

A monk who will redeem the world...

A dark agency with a deadly mission...

The greatest ...

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Overview

A moon rock missing for thirty years...

Five buckets of blood-soaked sand found in a New Mexico canyon...

A scientist with ambition enough to kill...

A monk who will redeem the world...

A dark agency with a deadly mission...

The greatest scientific discovery of all time...

What fire bolt from the galactic dark shattered the Earth eons ago, and now hides in that remote cleft in the southwest U.S. known as . . .

Tyrannosaur Canyon?

The stunning new masterwork from the acclaimed best-selling author, recently hailed by Publishers Weekly as "better than Crichton."

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Editorial Reviews

From Barnes & Noble
Tom Broadbent's life isn't getting any easier. When the hero of The Codex agrees to fulfill a dying man's last wish, he places himself and his wife in mortal danger. The ledger that he has promised to deliver to the dead prospector's daughter holds the key to the fossilized remains of a complete Tyrannosaurus rex, a treasure worth millions. And that's just the beginning of Douglas Preston's roller-coaster ride.
Stephen Coonts
If John Grisham had written Jurassic Park, he couldn't do better than Tyrannosaur Canyon.
The Washington Post
Grandly entertaining...Intelligently told and never less than fun.
The Washington Times
Opens doors of the intellect and imagination to some of the incredible realities, mysteries, and possibilities that surround us.
The Tampa Tribune
Clever . . . [An] interesting mix of speculative science and science fiction.
Booklist
A perfectly delicious scientific premise.
David Hagberg
A little like Grisham...a little like Crichton...a little like King, but a truly unique and wonderful writer on his own.
John Farris
A hair-frying, nerve-fraying, heart-stopping, pulse-pounding thriller of the first magnitude....Tyrannosaur Canyon reaches whole new dimensions of thrillerdom.
Patrick Anderson
Much that happens in Tyrannosaur Canyon is improbable, but it is always intelligently told and never less than fun. Call it high-quality escapism, in a world that offers much to escape from.
— The Washington Post
Publishers Weekly
At the start of this improbable thriller from bestseller Preston (The Codex), innocent bystander Tom Broadbent is riding his horse through a New Mexico canyon when he comes upon prospector Stem Weathers, who's just been shot. Before Weather dies, he gives Tom a notebook filled with mysterious numbers, asking him to pass it on to his daughter. Taking this assignment to heart, Tom puts himself and his wife at ever greater, more pointless risk as he tries to deliver the notebook. Soon the Broadbents find themselves the target of the prospector's assassin-a jailbird hired by an evil British paleontologist seeking the perfectly preserved remains of a Tyrannosaurus rex-as well as a rogue government operative who's trying, with a commandeered army squad, to kill almost everyone in the book. Lively yet ridiculous, the narrative loses all plausibility as it becomes clear that the characters do what they do solely in order to keep the plot churning to its conclusion. The recent real-life discovery of a Tyrannosaurus rex fossil containing soft tissue makes this particularly timely. Agent, Eric Simonoff at Janklow & Nesbit. $200,000 marketing campaign. (Sept.) Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
Library Journal
A prospector discovers the treasure of his lifetime and takes bullets in the back for his effort. With his dying breath, he gives a journal to innocent bystander Tom Broadbent (the hero of Preston's previous standalone, The Codex) and asks Tom to deliver the information to his daughter. The prospector's killer, of course, wants the ledger, so now Tom and his wife are in mortal danger. Why is the journal so valuable? It contains information leading to the fossilized remains of a complete Tyrannosaurus rex, a scientific discovery worth millions and a lifetime of accolades to the finder. In addition, a mysterious black ops agency wants the skeleton to hide a deadly secret originally discovered on the moon over 30 years ago by the crew of Apollo 17. The truth will shake the foundation of paleontology to its core. Preston's exhilarating and absorbing science-based effort will thrill readers from the first page to the last. Michael Crichton wishes he could write half as well; for all fiction collections.-Jeff Ayers, Seattle P.L. Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
W. Michael and Kathleen O' Neal Gear
Preston has accomplished the impossible: he combined the cutting-edge science of Michael Crichton and the thrills and chills of Stephen King.
Lincoln Child
I would put Tyrannosaur Canyon up with the best of Michael Crichton's novels
From the Publisher
Praise for The Codex

“Scott Brick does another outstanding job in creating real and believable characters by infusing them with distinctive personalities. Preston has come up with a surefire winner in this taut thriller; highly recommended.”—Library Journal (starred review)

“Scott brick gives a knockout performance...not since indiana jones played ‘race-the-boulder’ have so many nail-biting, heart-pounding rushes occurred in one adventure. Great Fun!”—AudioFile

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780765349651
  • Publisher: Doherty, Tom Associates, LLC
  • Publication date: 8/29/2006
  • Format: Mass Market Paperback
  • Edition description: Reprint
  • Pages: 416
  • Sales rank: 226,718
  • Product dimensions: 4.32 (w) x 6.96 (h) x 1.12 (d)

Meet the Author

Douglas Preston

DOUGLAS PRESTON has worked for the American Museum of Natural History as well as With his frequent collaberator Lincoln Child, he has authored such bestselling thrillers as Brimstone, The Cabinet of Curiosities, and Relic. His latest solo novel is The Codex.

Biography

Douglas Preston was born in 1956 in Cambridge, MA, was raised in nearby Wellesley (where, by his own admission, he and his brothers were the scourge of the neighborhood!), and graduated from Pomona College in California with a degree in English literature.

Preston's first job was as a writer for the American Museum of Natural History in New York -- an eight year stint that led to the publication of his first book, Dinosaurs in the Attic and introduced him to his future writing partner, Lincoln Child, then working as an editor at St. Martin's Press. The two men bonded, as they worked closely together on the book. As the project neared completion, Preston treated Child to a private midnight tour of the museum, an excursion that proved fateful. As Preston tells it, "...in the darkened Hall of Late Dinosaurs, under a looming T. Rex, Child turned to [me] and said: 'This would make the perfect setting for a thriller!'" Their first collaborative effort, Relic, would not be published until 1995, by which time Preston had picked up stakes and moved to Santa Fe to pursue a full-time writing career.

In addition to writing novels (The Codex, Tyrannosaur Canyon) and nonfiction books on the American Southwest (Cities of Gold, Ribbons of Time), Preston has collaborated with Lincoln Child on several post-Relic thrillers. While not strictly a series, the books share characters and events, and the stories all take place in the same universe. The authors refer to this phenomenon as "The Preston-Child Pangea."

Preston divides his time between New Mexico and Maine, while Child lives in New Jersey -- a situation that necessitates a lot of long-distance communication. But their partnership (facilitated by phone, fax, and email) is remarkably productive and thoroughly egalitarian: They shape their plots through a series of discussions; Child sends an outline of a set of chapters; Preston writes the first draft of those chapters, which is subsequently rewritten by Child; and in this way the novel is edited back and forth until both authors are happy. They attribute the relatively seamless surface of their books to the fact that "[a]ll four hands have found their way into practically every sentence, at one time or another."

In between, Preston remains busy. He is a regular contributor to magazines like National Geographic, The New Yorker, Natural History, Smithsonian, Harper's, and Travel & Leisure, and he continues with varied solo literary projects. Which is not to say his partnership with Lincoln Child is over. Fans of the bestselling Preston-Child thrillers can be assured there are bigger and better adventures to come.

Good To Know

Douglas Preston counts among his ancestors the poet Emily Dickinson, the newspaperman Horace Greeley, and the infamous murderer and opium addict Amasa Greenough.

His brother is Richard Preston, the bestselling author of The Hot Zone, The Cobra Event, The Wild Trees, and other novels and nonfiction narratives.

Preston is an expert horseman and a member of the Long Riders Guild.

He is also a National Geographic Society Fellow, has traveled extensively around the world, and contributes archaeological articles to many magazines.

In our interview, Preston shared some fun and fascinating personal anecdotes.

"My first job was washing dishes in the basement of a nursing home for $2.10 an hour, and I learned as much about the value of hard work there as I ever did later."

"I need to write in a small room -- the smaller the better. I can't write in a big room where someone might sneak up behind my back."

"My hobbies are mountain biking, horseback riding and packing, canoeing and kayaking, hiking, camping, cooking, and skiing."

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Read an Excerpt

TYRANNOSAUR CANYON


By DOUGLAS PRESTON

A TOM DOHERTY ASSOCIATES BOOK

Copyright © 2005 Splendide Mendax, Inc.
All right reserved.

ISBN: 0-765-31104-6


Chapter One

STEM WEATHERS SCRAMB to the top of the Mesa de los Viejos, tied his burro to a dead juniper, and settled himself down on a dusty boulder. Catching his breath, he mopped the sweat off his neck with a bandanna. A steady wind blowing across the mesa top plucked at his beard, cooling him after the hot dead air of the canyons.

He blew his nose and stuffed the bandanna back into his pocket. Studying the familiar landmarks, he silently recited the names-Daggett Canyon, Sundown Rocks, Navajo Rim, Orphan Mesa, Mesa del Yeso, Dead Eye Canyon, Blue Earth, La Cuchilla, the Echo Badlands, the White Place, the Red Place, and Tyrannosaur Canyon. The closet artist in him saw a fantastical realm painted in gold, rose, and purple; but the geologist in him saw a set of Upper Cretaceous fault-block plateaus, tilted, split, stripped, and scoured by time, as if infinity had laid waste to the earth, leaving behind a wreckage of garish rock.

Weathers slipped a packet of Bull Durham out of a greasy vest pocket and rolled a smoke with gnarled, dirt-blackened hands, his fingernails cracked and yellow. Striking a wooden match on his pant leg, he fired up the quirly and took in a long drag. For the past two weeks he had restricted his tobacco ration, but now he could splurge.

All his life had been a prologue to this thrilling week.

His life would change in a heartbeat. He'd patch things up with his daughter, Robbie, bring her here and show her his find. She would forgive him his obsessions, his unsettled life, his endless absences. The find would redeem him. He had never been able to give Robbie the things that other fathers lavished on their daughters-money for college, a car, help with the rent. Now he'd free her from waiting tables at Red Lobster and finance the art studio and gallery she dreamed of.

Weathers squinted up at the sun. Two hours off the horizon. If he didn't get moving he wouldn't reach the Chama River before dark. Salt, his burro, hadn't had a drink since morning and Weathers didn't want a dead animal on his hands. He watched the animal dozing in the shade, its ears flattened back and lips twitching, dreaming some evil dream. Weathers almost felt affection for the vicious old brute.

Weathers stubbed out his cigarette and slipped the dead butt into his pocket. He took a swig from his canteen, poured a little out onto his bandanna, and mopped his face and neck with the cooling water. He slung the canteen over his shoulder and untied the burro, leading him eastward across the barren sandstone mesa. A quarter mile distant, the vertiginous opening of Joaquin Canyon cut a spectacular ravine in the Mesa de los Viejos, the Mesa of the Ancients. Falling away into a complex web of canyons known as the Maze, it wound all the way to the Chama River.

Weathers peered down. The canyon floor lay in blue shadow, almost as if it were underwater. Where the canyon turned and ran west-with Orphan Mesa on one side and Dog Mesa on the other-he spied, five miles away, the broad opening to the Maze. The sun was just striking the tilted spires and hoodoo rock formations marking its entrance.

He scouted the rim until he found the faint, sloping trail leading to the bottom. A treacherous descent, it had landslided out in various places, forcing the traveler to navigate thousand-foot drop-offs. The only route from the Chama River into the high mesa country eastward, it discouraged all but the bravest souls.

For that, Weathers was grateful.

He picked his way down, careful with himself and the burro, relieved when they approached the dry wash along the bottom. Joaquin Wash would take him past the entrance to the Maze and from there to the Chama River. At Chama Bend there was a natural campsite where the river made a tight turn, with a sand-bar where one could swim. A swim ... now there was a thought. By tomorrow afternoon he would be in Abiquiu. First thing he'd phone Harry Dearborn (the battery on his sat-phone had died some days back) just to let him know ... Weathers tingled at the thought of breaking the news.

The trail finally reached the bottom. Weathers glanced up. The canyon face was dark, but the late-afternoon sun blazed on the rimrock. He froze. A thousand feel above, a man, silhouetted on the rim, stared down at him.

He swore under his breath. It was the same man who had followed him up from Santa Fe into the Chama wilderness two weeks ago. People like that knew of Weathers's unique skill, people who were too lazy or stupid to do their own prospecting and hoped to jump his claim. He recalled the man: a scraggy type on a Harley, some biker wannabe. The man had trailed him through Espanola, past Abiquiu and Ghost Ranch, hanging two hundred yards back, making no effort at deception. He'd seen the same joker at the beginning of his hike into the wilderness. Still wearing the biker head scarf, he followed him on foot up Joaquin Wash from the Chama River. Weathers had lost his pursuer in the Maze and reached the top of the Mesa of the Ancients before the biker found his way out.

Two weeks later, here he was again-a persistent little bastard.

Stem Weathers studied first the lazy curves of Joaquin Wash, then the rock spires marking the mouth of the Maze. He would lose him in the Maze again. And maybe this time the son of a bitch would remain lost.

He continued scrambling down the canyon, periodically checking his back trail. Instead of following, however, the man had disappeared. Perhaps the pursuer thought he knew a quicker way down.

Weathers smiled, because there was no other way down.

After an hour of hiking down Joaquin Wash he felt his anger and anxiety subside. The man was an amateur. It wasn't the first time a fool had followed him out into the desert only to find himself lost. They all wanted to be like Stem, but they weren't. He'd been doing this all his life, and he had a sixth sense-it was inexplicable. He hadn't learned it in a textbook or studied it in graduate school, nor could all those Ph.D.s master it with their geological maps and synthetic aperture C-Band radar surveys. He succeeded where they failed, using nothing more than a donkey and a homemade ground-penetrating radar unit built on the back of an old IBM 286. No wonder they hated him.

Weathers's ebullient mood returned. That bastard wasn't going to spoil the greatest week of his life. The burro balked and Weathers stopped to pour some water into his hat, letting the animal drink, then cursed him forward. The Maze lay just ahead, and he'd enter there. Deep in the Maze, near Two Rocks, was a rare source of water-a rock ledge covered with maidenhair ferns, which dripped water into an ancient basin carved in the sandstone by prehistoric Indians. Weathers decided to camp there instead of at Chama Bend, where he'd be an open target. Better safe than sorry.

He rounded the great rock pillar marking the entrance. Thousand-foot canyon walls of aeolian sandstone soared above him, the majestic Entrada Formation, the compacted remains of a Jurassic desert. The canyon had a cool, hushed feeling, like the interior of a Gothic cathedral. He breathed deeply the redolent air, perfumed by salt cedar. Above, the light in the hoodoo rock formations had turned from electrum to gold as the sun sank toward the horizon.

He continued into the warren of canyons, approaching where Hanging Canyon merged with Mexican Canyon-the first of many such branches. Not even a map would help you in the Maze. And the great depth of the canyons made GPS and satellite phones useless.

The first round struck Weathers in the shoulder from behind, and it felt more like a hard punch than a bullet. He landed on his hands and knees, his mind blank with astonishment. It was only when the report cracked and echoed through the canyons that he realized he'd been shot. There was no pain yet, just a buzzing numbness, but he saw that shattered bone protruded from a torn shirt, and pumping blood was splattering on the sand.

Jesus God.

He staggered back to his feet as the second shot kicked up the sand next to him. The shots were coming from the rim above him and to his right. He had to return to the canyon two hundred yards away-to the lee of the rock pillar. It was the only cover. He ran for all he was worth.

The third shot kicked up sand in front of him. Weathers ran, seeing that he still had a chance. The attacker had ambushed him from the rim above and it would take the man several hours to descend. If Weathers could reach that stone pillar, he might escape. He might actually live. He zigzagged, his lungs screaming with pain. Fifty yards, forty, thirty-

He heard the shot only after he felt the bullet slam into his lower back and saw his own entrails empty onto the sand in front of him, the inertia pitching him facedown. He tried to rise, sobbing and clawing, furious that someone would steal his find. He writhed, howling, clutching his pocket notebook, hoping to throw it, lose it, destroy it, to keep it from his killer-but there was no place to conceal it, and then, as if in a dream, he could not think, could not move ...

Chapter Two

TOM BROADBENT REINED in his horse. Four shots had rolled down Joaquin Wash from the great walled canyons east of the river. He wondered what it meant. It wasn't hunting season and nobody in his right mind would be out in those canyons target shooting.

He checked his watch. Eight o'clock. The sun had just sunk below the horizon. The echoes seemed to have come from the cluster of hoodoo rocks at the mouth of the Maze. It would be a fifteen-minute ride, no more. He had time to make a quick detour. The full moon would rise before long and his wife, Sally, wasn't expecting him before midnight anyway.

He turned his horse Knock up the wash and toward the canyon mouth, following the fresh tracks of a man and burro. Rounding a turn, a dark shape sprawled in front of him: a man lying facedown.

He rode over, swung off, and knelt, his heart hammering. The man, shot in the back and shoulder, still oozed blood into the sand. He felt the carotid artery: nothing. He turned him over, the rest of the man's entrails emptying onto the sand.

Working swiftly, he wiped the sand out of the man's mouth and gave him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Leaning over the man, he administered heart massage, pressing on his rib cage, almost cracking the ribs, once, twice, then another breath. Air bubbled out of the wound. Tom continued with CPR, then checked the pulse.

Incredibly, the heart had restarted.

Suddenly the man's eyes opened, revealing a pair of bright blue eyes that stared at Tom from a dusty, sunburnt face. He drew in a shallow breath, the air rattling in his throat. His lips parted.

"No ... You bastard ..." The eyes opened wide, the lips flecked with blood.

"Wait," said Tom. "I'm not the man who shot you."

The eyes peered at him closely, the terror subsiding-replaced by something else. Hope. The man's eyes glanced down at his hand, as if indicating something.

Tom followed the man's gaze and saw he was clutching a small, leather-bound notebook.

"Take ..." the man rasped.

"Don't try to talk."

"Take it ..."

Tom took the notebook. The cover was sticky with blood.

"It's for Robbie ..." he gasped, his lips twisting with the effort to speak. "My daughter ... Promise to give it to her ... She'll know how to find it ..."

"It?"

"... the treasure ..."

"Don't think about that now. We're going to get you out of here. Just hang in-"

The man violently clutched at Tom's shirt with a trembling hand.

"It's for her ... Robbie ... No one else ... For God's sake not the police ... You must ... promise." His hand twisted the shirt with shocking force, a last spasm of strength from the dying man.

"I promise."

"Tell Robbie ... I ... love ..."

His eyes defocused. The hand relaxed and slid down. Tom realized he had also stopped breathing.

Tom recommenced CPR. Nothing. After ten futile minutes he untied the man's bandanna and laid it over his face.

That's when it dawned on him: The man's killer must still be around. His eyes searched the rimrock and the surrounding scree. The silence was so profound it seemed that the rocks themselves held vigil. Where is the killer? There were no other tracks around, just those of the treasure hunter and his burro. A hundred yards off stood the burro itself, still packed, sleeping on its feet. The murderer had a rifle and the high ground. Broadbent might be in his sights even now.

Get out now. He rose, caught his horse's reins, swung up, and dug in his heels. The horse set off down the canyon at a gallop, rounding the opening to the Maze. Only when he was halfway down Joaquin Wash did Tom slow him to a trot. A great buttery moon was rising in the east, illuminating the sandy wash.

If he really pushed his horse, he could make Abiquiu in two hours.

Chapter Three

JIMSON "WEED" MADDOX hiked along the canyon floor, whistling "Saturday Night Fever," feeling on top of the world. The .223 AR-15 had been field-stripped, wiped clean, and carefully secreted in a crevice blocked with stones.

The desert canyon took a turn, then another. Weathers, attempting the same ploy twice, had tried to lose him in the Maze. The old bastard might fool Jimson A. Maddox once. Never twice.

He strode down the wash, his lanky legs eating up the ground. Even with a map and a GPS he had spent the better part of a week tramping around lost in the Maze. It hadn't been a waste of time: now he knew the Maze and quite a bit of the mesa country beyond. He had had plenty of time to plan his ambush of Weathers-and he had pulled it off perfectly.

He inhaled the faintly perfumed air of the canyon. This was not so different from Iraq, where he had done a stint as a gunnery sergeant during Desert Storm. If there was a place the opposite of prison, this was it-nobody to crowd you, nobody in your face, no faggots, spics, or niggers to spoil the peace. Dry, empty, and silent.

He rounded the sandstone pillar at the entrance to the Maze. The man he had shot lay on the ground, a dark shape in the twilight.

He halted. Fresh hoofprints in the sand headed to and from the body.

He broke into a run.

The body lay on its back, arms by its side, bandanna carefully spread over its face. Someone had been here. The person might even have been a witness. He was on horseback and would be heading straight to the cops.

Maddox forced himself to calm down. Even on a horse, it would take the man a couple of hours to ride back to Abiquiu and at least several more hours to get the police and return. Even if they called a chopper it would have to fly up from Santa Fe, eighty miles to the south. He had at least three hours to get the notebook, hide the body, and get the hell out.

Maddox searched the body, turning out the pockets and rifling the man's day pack. His fist enclosed over a rock in the man's pocket and he pulled it out and examined it by flashlight. It was definitely a sample, something Corvus had pointedly asked for.

Now the notebook. Oblivious to the blood and entrails, he searched the body again, turned it over, searched the other side, kicked it in frustration. He looked around. The man's burro stood a hundred yards off, still packed, dozing.

Maddox undid the diamond hitch, pulled off the packsaddle. Yanking off the manty, he unhooked the canvas panniers and emptied them into the sand. Everything fell out: a jury-rigged piece of electronic equipment, hammers, chisels, U.S.G.S. maps, a handheld GPS unit, coffeepot, frying pan, empty food sacks, a pair of hobbles, dirty underwear, old batteries, and a folded-up piece of parchment.

Maddox seized the parchment. It was a crude map covered with clumsily drawn peaks, rivers, rocks, dotted lines, old-time Spanish lettering-and there, in the middle, had been inked a heavy, Spanish-style X.

An honest-to-God treasure map.

Strange that Corvus hadn't mentioned it.

He refolded the greasy parchment and stuffed it into his shirt pocket, then resumed his search for the notebook. Scrabbling around on the ground on his hands and knees, combing through the spilled equipment and supplies, he found everything a prospector might need-except the notebook.

He studied the electronic device again. A homemade piece of shit, a dented metal box with some switches, dials, and a small LED screen. Corvus hadn't mentioned it but it looked important. He better take that, too.

(Continues...)



Excerpted from TYRANNOSAUR CANYON by DOUGLAS PRESTON Copyright © 2005 by Splendide Mendax, Inc.. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Table of Contents

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 81 )
Rating Distribution

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(33)

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(29)

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(16)

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 82 Customer Reviews
  • Posted January 17, 2011

    more from this reviewer

    If There Are Aliens, They Won't Be Humanoid (Spoilers)

    First, I did not read the first book, Codex, because I couldn't get into it. This is a continuation of Tom Broadbent's story. I have a feeling a lot of Tom's development and the relationship with his wife, was done in the first book.
    That being said, this was a exciting thriller that can stand alone. The good guys are honorable and the bad guys are pure evil. It took a while to figure out (and I wanted to figure it out, which really counts) the prologue scene on the moon and how this relates to a dinosaur hunting in the west. Broadbent finds a body in the desert and of course, trouble. Broadbent makes some really smart moves, but sometimes I think he makes some really sporadic dumb moves. His buddy West, the want-a-be monk, is the brains. I have the next book of this on my shelf. I may even go back and give the first book another try, now that I think about it.
    P.S. The true hero of the story is the nerdy, overworked under paid scientist.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted January 6, 2010

    more from this reviewer

    I Also Recommend:

    Overall a good book.

    Just a bit slow and it takes a little bit to get into it. The characters are good though. I read this book because I liked douglas prestons style of writing. Once you get into it, its pretty good.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted May 3, 2009

    good read

    Good Read

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted February 25, 2009

    I Also Recommend:

    LOVED IT!

    I bought this book as a bargain book and was pleasantly surprised at my overall enjoyment. This book is easy to read, has a great plot, good characters and descriptive of the nature and scenery where the story takes place. My favorite part was the prologue for each part of the book that described the dinosaur. I was never interested in this in the past but thought that this book kept me thinking about archeology long after I read the book. It is a nice thriller book for a vacation trip or a long weekend in a rain or snow when you are stuck inside. I easily read this book in three days. Was sorry to see the tale end.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 7, 2007

    A reviewer

    I thought the book was a good one with a lot of twists to it. It was fast pace at times, making it hard to put down.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 20, 2006

    'Obvious, and long winded'

    Look, I'm not looking for a book to keep me on the edge of my seat every sentence. Or every chapter for that matter. But at some point in this thriller, I would like to be thrilled. Sorry, I just don't enjoy a book that tries to be mysterious, but let's you in on the mystery before it becomes one.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 25, 2013

    If you like Douglas Preston

    If you're a Douglas Preston fan, you'll give it your usual 5 stars. If you're not a fan, you can really enjoy it anyway!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 6, 2013

    Awesome

    Good book but a little challenging for 3 year olds.



    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted June 28, 2012

    **** a good read

    I did enjoy this novel, although it tended to fall more into the realm of not being believable, for example the escape from the caved in mine, and the chase through the desert. I can't say I didn't like it, but I would put it at the bottom of my list for D.P.'s books--I have read them all. His first novel with this character was much better, I think.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted October 29, 2011

    Loved it!

    Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child are two of my favorite authors and this one doesn't disappoint!
    Having met Tom in The Codex, it was fun to catch up with him.
    Now i'm diving into the adventures of Ford and really looking forward to it.

    Truly a great read!

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted October 29, 2011

    nice read

    lots of action with some history and science thrown in

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted June 7, 2011

    Okay, definately not jurasic park

    This was my first Douglas Preston book. I enjoyed it for what it was, pulp fiction. The charcters felt a little wooden to me, especially the cops. The antagonist were also not very original. I didn't hate it, but I didn't love it either. I think I'll stick to James Rollins.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted May 2, 2011

    Check this out!

    This was my 1st Douglas Preston book and it will not be my last. Tryannosaur Canyon was fast paced, interesting, with a few twists thrown in along the way. Check it out, you will not be disappointed.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted March 29, 2011

    more from this reviewer

    Gripping...all the way through

    Presents a very interesting theory to what might have happened 65 million years ago, as well as a chilling look to the possible future of mankind

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  • Posted February 21, 2011

    more from this reviewer

    An Excellent Page-turner!!

    Unique storyline well told! I liked everything about this interesting book, and would like to meet the characters in another effort.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 18, 2007

    Enjoyable escape

    Yes, this book is a little far-fetched. However, I don't read works of fiction to discover hard core factual information - I read them in order to escape from reality. This book offers plenty of fast-paced action, some really interesting scientific theories and a satisfying ending. I love the work of Preston and Child and will be reading more of both authors.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 4, 2007

    A fast paced and fun thrill ride!

    This was the first Douglas Preston book I've read and boy was it a winner! From one chapter to the next, it was like being on a roller coaster ride with suspense, surprises and plot twists. Just when you think you've figured out what is going to happen, a new element or character bursts onto the scene and your purlse quickens as the story takes on a new dimension.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted August 3, 2006

    It's a must read!

    Douglas Preston has done a fantastic job writing this book. You become so enthralled with the characters and the intelligently written story, that you can not put the book down and don't want it to end. There are so many twists and turns throughout the book, that you are surprised all through it and it keeps you wanting for more. Its quite an adventure! I have become a great fan of his and his partner Lincoln Child and I admire their hard work, and great storytelling.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted October 3, 2006

    a reviewer

    A dying prospector turns over a mysterious coded notebook to millionaire good-guy Tom Broadbent with last-breath instructions to pass it on to his daughter. This opening scene in Douglas Preston's latest solitary effort, Tyrannosaur Canyon, sets the stage for a wild, chaotic ride for the reader. From the frozen landscape of the moon to the hot, barren deserts and canyons of New Mexico to the Museum of Natural History in New York City, with a plethora of characters thrown in, Preston's novel barrels along at breakneck speed. Perhaps to the undoing of the tale. With multiple characters and a commensurate number of locales, the constant, abrupt shifting viewpoints acts as an annoying hindrance and an obstacle to the smooth unfolding of the plot. The story was indeed well-written but could have benefited from a more linear denouement.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 22, 2006

    This book was Great

    This book didn't seem so interesting from the beginning, but after the first couple chapters sucked me in. I read it nonstop and enjoyed it thoroughly. It has awesome twists and turns.

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