Brother Richard liked it loud. He punched the iPod up all the way until the music hammered in his brain, its force beating away like some banshee howl from the high, dark mountains hidden behind the screen of rushing trees. He was holding at eight-five miles her hour, even through the turns, though that took a surgeon's skill, a miracle of guts and timing.Night of Thunder
by Stephen Hunter
(Simon and Shuster, 2008)
