Inferno丹·布朗：地狱 英文原版 [平装] 下载 mobi epub pdf 电子书 2024

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　　《地狱》是悬疑大师丹·布朗时隔3年的zui新力作，他的《数字城堡》预演了今天的斯诺登事件
　　他的《达芬奇密码》激起过宗教界的轩然大波
　　一念天堂，一念地狱

内容简介

#1 WORLDWIDE BESTSELLER

Harvard professor of symbology Robert Langdon awakens in an Italian hospital, disoriented and with no recollection of the past thirty-six hours, including the origin of the macabre object hidden in his belongings. With a relentless female assassin trailing them through Florence, he and his resourceful doctor, Sienna Brooks, are forced to flee. Embarking on a harrowing journey, they must unravel a series of codes, which are the work of a brilliant scientist whose obsession with the end of the world is matched only by his passion for one of the most influential masterpieces ever written, Dante Alighieri's The Inferno.

Dan Brown has raised the bar yet again, combining classical Italian art, history, and literature with cutting-edge science in this sumptuously entertaining thriller.

作者简介

Dan Brown is the author of The Da Vinci Code, one of the most widely read novels of all time, as well as the international bestsellers Inferno, The Lost Symbol, Angels & Demons, Deception Point, and Digital Fortress. He lives in New England with his wife.

丹·布朗（Dan Brown，1964- ）美国著名畅销作家，毕业于阿默斯特大学，曾是一名英语教师。一九九六年开始写作，先后推出了《数字城堡》、《骗局》、《天使与魔鬼》和《达·芬奇密码》四部小说，其中《天使与魔鬼》奠定了他在小说界的地位。而《达·芬奇密码》一经问世就高踞各大畅销书排行榜榜首，并打破销售记录，成为史上zui畅销的小说，创下书市奇迹。其后，他历时六年完成的新作《失落的秘符》首印量高达六百五十万册，在开始发售三十六小时后全球销量已破百万，成为被经济危机的乌云笼罩的美国书市年度zui大亮点。《地狱》是他二〇一三年五月十四日出版的新作。

精彩书评

"Jampacked with tricks...A BOOK-LENGTH SCAVENGER HUNT that Mr. Brown creates so energetically."
--Janet Maslin, The New York Times

"AS CLOSE AS A BOOK CAN COME TO A SUMMERTIME CINEMATIC BLOCKBUSTER…Brown builds up Langdon's supporting cast, which is the strongest yet."
--USA Today

"FAST, CLEVER, WELL-INFORMED…DAN BROWN IS THE MASTER OF THE INTELLECTUAL CLIFFHANGER."
--The Wall Street Journal

"BROWN IS AT HIS BEST when he makes readers believe that dusty books and musty passageways are just covers for ancient global conspiracies."
--The Washington Post

"A DIVERTING THRILLER…Brown stocks his latest book with all the familiar elements: puzzles, a beautiful female companion, and hints of secret conspiratorial agendas."
--EW.com

　　花招琳琅满目……贯穿整本书始终的追寻之旅被丹·布朗描绘得精彩绝伦。
　　——珍妮特·马斯林 《纽约时报》

　　酷似暑期电影大片的一部小说……丹·布朗为罗伯特·兰登配制了迄今zui为强大的演员阵容。
　　——《今日美国》

　　节奏快捷、机智绝伦、旁征博引……丹·布朗无愧为智性悬疑小说大师。
　　——《华尔街日报》

　　丹·布朗让读者对尘封已久的书籍与陈旧发霉的走道里隐藏有古老的惊世阴谋深信不疑，他达到了他的巅峰。
　　——《华盛顿邮报》

精彩书摘

Chapter 1
The memories materialized slowly .?.?. like bubbles surfacing from the darkness of a bottomless well.
A veiled woman.
Robert Langdon gazed at her across a river whose churning waters ran red with blood. On the far bank, the woman stood facing him, motionless, solemn, her face hidden by a shroud. In her hand she gripped a blue tainia cloth, which she now raised in honor of the sea of corpses at her feet. The smell of death hung everywhere.
Seek, the woman whispered. And ye shall find.
Langdon heard the words as if she had spoken them inside his head. “Who are you?” he called out, but his voice made no sound.
Time grows short, she whispered. Seek and find.
Langdon took a step toward the river, but he could see the waters were bloodred and too deep to traverse. When Langdon raised his eyes again to the veiled woman, the bodies at her feet had multiplied. There were hundreds of them now, maybe thousands, some still alive, writhing in agony, dying unthinkable deaths .?.?. consumed by fire, buried in feces, devouring one another. He could hear the mournful cries of human suffering echoing across the water.
The woman moved toward him, holding out her slender hands, as if beckoning for help.
“Who are you?!” Langdon again shouted.
In response, the woman reached up and slowly lifted the veil from her face. She was strikingly beautiful, and yet older than Langdon had imagined—in her sixties perhaps, stately and strong, like a timeless statue. She had a sternly set jaw, deep soulful eyes, and long, silver-gray hair that cascaded over her shoulders in ringlets. An amulet of lapis lazuli hung around her neck—a single snake coiled around a staff.
Langdon sensed he knew her .?.?. trusted her. But how? Why?
She pointed now to a writhing pair of legs, which protruded upside down from the earth, apparently belonging to some poor soul who had been buried headfirst to his waist. The man’s pale thigh bore a single letter—written in mud—R.
R? Langdon thought, uncertain. As in?.?.?.?Robert? “Is that .?.?. me?”
The woman’s face revealed nothing. Seek and find, she repeated.
Without warning, she began radiating a white light?.?.?. brighter and brighter. Her entire body started vibrating intensely, and then, in a rush of thunder, she exploded into a thousand splintering shards of light.
Langdon bolted awake, shouting.
The room was bright. He was alone. The sharp smell of medicinal alcohol hung in the air, and somewhere a machine pinged in quiet rhythm with his heart. Langdon tried to move his right arm, but a sharp pain restrained him. He looked down and saw an IV tugging at the skin of his forearm.
His pulse quickened, and the machines kept pace, pinging more rapidly.
Where am I? What happened?
The back of Langdon’s head throbbed, a gnawing pain. Gingerly, he reached up with his free arm and touched his scalp, trying to locate the source of his headache. Beneath his matted hair, he found the hard nubs of a dozen or so stitches caked with dried blood.
He closed his eyes, trying to remember an accident.
Nothing. A total blank.
Think.
Only darkness.
A man in scrubs hurried in, apparently alerted by Langdon’s racing heart monitor. He had a shaggy beard, bushy mustache, and gentle eyes that radiated a thoughtful calm beneath his overgrown eyebrows.
“What .?.?. happened?” Langdon managed. “Did I have an accident?”
The bearded man put a finger to his lips and then rushed out, calling for someone down the hall.
Langdon turned his head, but the movement sent a spike of pain radiating through his skull. He took deep breaths and let the pain pass. Then, very gently and methodically, he surveyed his sterile surroundings.
The hospital room had a single bed. No flowers. No cards. Langdon saw his clothes on a nearby counter, folded inside a clear plastic bag. They were covered with blood.
My God. It must have been bad.
Now Langdon rotated his head very slowly toward the window beside his bed. It was dark outside. Night. All Langdon could see in the glass was his own reflection—an ashen stranger, pale and weary, attached to tubes and wires, surrounded by medical equipment.
Voices approached in the hall, and Langdon turned his gaze back toward the room. The doctor returned, now accompanied by a woman.
She appeared to be in her early thirties. She wore blue scrubs and had tied her blond hair back in a thick ponytail that swung behind her as she walked.
“I’m Dr. Sienna Brooks,” she said, giving Langdon a smile as she entered. “I’ll be working with Dr. Marconi tonight.”
Langdon nodded weakly.
Tall and lissome, Dr. Brooks moved with the assertive gait of an athlete. Even in shapeless scrubs, she had a willowy elegance about her. Despite the absence of any makeup that Langdon could see, her complexion appeared unusually smooth, the only blemish a tiny beauty mark just above her lips. Her eyes, though a gentle brown, seemed unusually penetrating, as if they had witnessed a profundity of experience rarely encountered by a person her age.
“Dr. Marconi doesn’t speak much English,” she said, sitting down beside him, “and he asked me to fill out your admittance form.” She gave him another smile.
“Thanks,” Langdon croaked.
“Okay,” she began, her tone businesslike. “What is your name?”
It took him a moment. “Robert .?.?. Langdon.”
She shone a penlight in Langdon’s eyes. “Occupation?”
This information surfaced even more slowly. “Professor. Art history .?.?. and symbology. Harvard University.”
Dr. Brooks lowered the light, looking startled. The doctor with the bushy eyebrows looked equally surprised.
“You’re .?.?. an American?”
Langdon gave her a confused look.
“It’s just .?.?.” She hesitated. “You had no identification when you arrived tonight. You were wearing Harris Tweed and Somerset loafers, so we guessed British.”
“I’m American,” Langdon assured her, too exhausted to explain his preference for well-tailored clothing.
“Any pain?”
“My head,” Langdon replied, his throbbing skull only made worse by the bright penlight. Thankfully, she now pocketed it, taking Langdon’s wrist and checking his pulse.
“You woke up shouting,” the woman said. “Do you Inferno丹·布朗：地狱 英文原版 [平装] 下载 mobi epub pdf txt 电子书 格式

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