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From #1 New York Times bestselling author  Robyn Carr comes the story of four friends determined to find their stride. Ultimately, they'll discover what it means to be a wife, mother, lover, friend…and most important: your true self. 

Gerri can't decide what's more devastating: learning her rock-solid marriage has big cracks, or the anger she feels as she tries to repair them. Always the anchor for friends and her three angst-ridden teenagers, it's time to look carefully at herself. The journey is more than revealing—it's transforming. 

Andy doesn't have a great track record with men, and she's come to believe that a lasting love is out of reach. When she finds herself attracted to her down-to-earth contractor—a man without any of the qualities that usually appeal to her—she questions everything she thought she wanted in life. 

Sonja's lifelong pursuit of balance is shattered when her husband declares he's through with her New Age nonsense and walks out. There's no herbal tonic or cleansing ritual that can restore her serenity—or her sanity. 

Miraculously, it's BJ, the reserved newcomer to Mill Valley, who steps into their circle and changes everything. The woman with dark secrets opens up to her neighbors, and together they get each other back on track, stronger as individuals and unfaltering as friends. 

• Sales Rank: #594622 in Books
• Brand: Harlequin MIRA
• Published on: 2014-03-25
• Released on: 2014-03-25
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 8.23" h x 1.02" w x 5.41" l, .74 pounds
• Binding: Paperback
• 384 pages

Features

• Great product!

From Booklist
Four women living in an affluent neighborhood near San Francisco come together through exercise and care for each other through relationship tragedies and triumphs. Andy, Gerri, and Sonja often see BJ, the standoffish new neighbor, running in the early mornings when they do their fitness walk around the neighborhood. Soon their marriages come undone. Andy, mother of a 19-year-old, throws her sexy younger second husband out with all his stuff. Gerri, a social worker with three teenage kids, has always had a model marriage with her husband, an assistant district attorney, until she discovers he had an affair. Perky Sonja, holistic practitioner of feng shui, yoga, and various new age activities, is left by her husband and suffers a psychotic break that her friends don’t realize is major until BJ alerts them. As secrets and frailties are exposed, the four find acceptance and support, drawing on each other’s strength. Prolific Carr’s new novel demonstrates that classic women’s fiction, illuminating the power of women’s friendships, is still alive and well. --Diana Tixier Herald

Review
"A touch of danger and suspense make the latest in Carr's Thunder Point series a powerful read."

-RT Book Reviews on The Hero

"With her trademark mixture of humor, realistic conflict, and razor-sharp insights, Carr brings Thunder Point to vivid life."

-Library Journal on The Newcomer

"No one can do small-town life like Carr."

-RT Book Reviews on The Wanderer

"Strong conflict, humor and well-written characters are Carr's calling cards, and they're all present here....You won't want to put this one down."

-RT Book Reviews on Angel's Peak

"This story has everything: a courageous, outspoken heroine, a to-die-for hero and a plot that will touch readers' hearts on several different levels. Truly excellent."

-RT Book Reviews on Forbidden Falls

"An intensely satisfying read. By turns humorous and gut-wrenchingly emotional, it won't soon be forgotten."
-RT Book Reviews on Paradise Valley
"An intensely satisfying read. By turns humorous and gut-wrenchingly emotional, it won't soon be forgotten."
-RT Book Reviews on Paradise Valley

"Carr has hit her stride with this captivating series."
-Library Journal on the Virgin River series

"The Virgin River books are so compelling-I connected instantly with the characters and just wanted more and more and more."

-#1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber

About the Author

Robyn Carr is a RITA® Award-winning, #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than forty novels, including the critically acclaimed Virgin River series. Robyn and her husband live in Las Vegas, Nevada. You can visit Robyn Carr’s website at www.RobynCarr.com.

Most helpful customer reviews

46 of 49 people found the following review helpful.
Loved These Woman With Flaws And Without...
By PattyLouise
Four Friends
by
Robyn Carr

What it's all about...

Why...it's about four friends and the lives they lead. These four just happen to live in the same neighborhood.

My thoughts after reading this book...

When we first meet these women they are up at 6 ish and power walking. However...soon everyone's lives begin to change and even crumble. Andy finds out her husband is cheating, Gerri finds out her husband has cheated, Sonja falls apart because her husband doesn't want to eat nut meatloaf any more and BJ enters the picture with a deep dark secret of her own.
Husbands are tossed out, someone gets committed, teen children get in trouble, secrets are revealed and some people fall in love...again...and this is all within the first few pages! Just teasing but there is a lot going on in this book! And you can sort of predict how this book will roll...dysfunction, angst, revealed secrets and a happy ending...sort of!

What I loved best and what I didn't love best...

The characters are interesting and I loved their issues! It made the book fun and speedy to read! One of my fave characters is Bob...the Builder/Carpenter and Beau...his dog. Gerri...has been married the longest and is the most visible character in this book. Her complaints about sex and menopause were kind of annoying...she needed her gynecologist to tell her women had sex after fifty? Sheesh!

My ending thoughts for potential readers...

A fun light hearted book with both real and quirky over the top characters. Lots of issues are addressed...drugs, marital abuse, teen sex, homosexuality, fidelity and vegetarianism. Yes...I said vegetarianism!

Again...probably a great beach read...I think that this is the first book I have ever read by this author. I did enjoy it!

Thank you Amazon and Edelweiss for my copy!

33 of 34 people found the following review helpful.
Encouraging and empowering women's fiction novel on the importance of family, companions, and of course, friends
By Karielle @ Books à la Mode
They were three suburban queens, and they had the perfect lives. But when each Gerri, Andy, and Sonja's lives begin to crumble before their very eyes—as if the entire neighborhood is falling apart—these three women discover that life in paradise isn't so grand after all.

Gerri's realization that she has an imperfect marriage is startling because her husband was the one person she could always depend on. She and Phil were the power couple of Mill Valley; it was never part of the equation for him to slip. Andy's marriages were never so secure, but it doesn't mean her most recent divorce is any less heartbreaking, and it certainly doesn't mean she won't survive the aftermath. Sonja's entire system of belief and lifestyle collapses when her husband tells her he can't tolerate her anymore, which pushes her to the brink of sanity—with indeterminable hopes of coming back. The new girl on the block, the closed-off but well-meaning BJ, never had the perfect life—never had the privileges of the upper middle-class—but when she enters the other three women's radar, her fresh perspective and sobering background help everyone find the strength to piece their disintegrating lives back together again.

What's so extraordinary about a book like Four Friends is that it isn't completely innovative but it still absorbs you completely; it isn't groundbreaking or terribly thrilling—in fact, it's very contemporary, very domestic, very everyday—and that's just the thing: it's for everyday women, a story whose emotional relevance everyone understands.

Each of the four women's subplots combine with the others smoothly, creating a comprehensive, clear picture of not only the individual struggles, but also the overarching friendship. It's impossible not to get involved in the lives of these outwardly "normal" women, because their stories are so personal, so real. It makes for the best women's fiction; it brings to light issues that the everyday woman—if not you, then at least your best friend, or your sister, or mother, or daughter—faces regularly or has faced before.

Robyn Carr writes with a confident hand, creating lovable, vibrant characters and an engaging plot. Even in its normalcy, the storyline is anything but boring! I love just how interesting everyone from the book is. There are so many amazing secondary characters introduced—the children, the mothers-in-law, and so on—that I wish each of them had had equal screen time (page time?), but most of the novel revolves around Gerri.

All four women will undergo life-changing mental, physical, and spiritual transformations in the wake of their seemingly impossible-to-win battles, and although it might put them through hell, it guarantees they will emerge from it all—perhaps, even stronger than they were before.

The magic of Four Friends is that these four women face what everyone faces in middle adulthood: menopause, abuse, divorce, unfaithful spouses, wayward children, heartless exes, distant lovers, and unexpected acquaintances; but it comes with encouraging and empowering anecdotes on the importance of family, companions, and of course, friends.

Pros: A feel-good novel that sends you on an emotional roller coaster // Gerri is an incredibly lovable, incredible human character; I admire her so much! // Each of the women's stories is told in perfect harmony and balance // Fluid, easy to read; well-written and stylistically conversational // Includes both R-rated romance and G-rated sentiment // Taking a glimpse at these four lives is fascinating; you will become immersed!

Cons: Most of the characters are two-dimensional. They're likable and interesting but I wish Carr would have gone into more depth with them // Ending feels rushed, messy, and like a quick fix

Verdict: Four Friends is one of those books that overflows with love, in all of the familial, romantic, and companionable sense. It's a cozy story about family and devoted, symbiotic relationships, but also possesses scorching chemistry—the kind of fire that genuine love never loses—and emotional upheaval with which everyone will be able to sympathize. Robyn Carr fans will be pleased with her traditional "feel good" style and sharp characters, but should definitely expect something different with her newest novel. Four Friends goes beyond the usual romance formula in acknowledging the resilience of the human heart in times of deep personal turmoil, as well as highlights triumph amidst chaos thanks to the power of simply having one other.

Rating: 8 out of 10 hearts (4 stars): An engaging read that will be worth your while; highly recommended.

Source: Complimentary copy provided by publicist in exchange for an honest and unbiased review (thank you, Little Bird!).

23 of 24 people found the following review helpful.
An absorbing, fascinating read about four complex women with problems.
By Mary Strand
An absorbing, fascinating read about four complex women with problems: Gerri, Andy, Sonja, and BJ. Gerri is the glue and the rock of the bunch and the heart of the story. Sonja begins as a woman who's too perfect (as the other women think, too) and who goes off the rails spectacularly. She also refinds the rails in spectacular, wonderful, unexpected fashion. I got a major kick out of her. BJ has a heckuva secret, and Andy is the sort of woman who goes after what she wants ... and tosses what she doesn't want. I liked them all. The men in the book, and the women's kids, add to the richness and layers of the story. Interestingly, I never truly warmed up to Gerri's husband (although I think many readers would), but I liked the story better for the fact that I didn't. Life isn't perfect. It's life, and sometimes it takes you for a ride.

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Deborah Sinclair is a beautiful, accomplished young heiress with a staggering dowry. But her fortune does her no good when, one horrible night, Chicago is engulfed in flames.

Tom Silver will walk through fire to avenge a terrible injustice—and he may have to. But when he makes Deborah a pawn in his revenge, the heat of the inferno fades next to the attraction he feels for his captive. And the further he takes her from everything she's known, the stronger their passion grows, until it threatens to consume them both.

• Sales Rank: #752200 in Books
• Published on: 2010-06-29
• Released on: 2010-06-29
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.62" h x 1.17" w x 4.21" l, .46 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 448 pages

Review
"Susan Wiggs masterfully combines real historical events with a powerful captive/captor romance and . . . draws readers in with her strong writing style. . . ."
-- Romantic Times (Romantic Times )

About the Author

Susan Wiggs is the author of many beloved bestsellers, including the popular Lakeshore Chronicles series. She has won many awards for her work, including a RITA from Romance Writers of America. Visit her website at www.SusanWiggs.com.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


"What's the matter with Deborah?" asked Phoebe Palmer, standing in the middle of a cluttered suite of rooms at Miss Emma Wade Boylan's School for Young Ladies. Lacy petticoats and beribboned unmentionables littered the divans and ottomans of the fringed, beaded and brocaded salon. "She won't even let her maid in to attend her," Phoebe added.

"I'll see what's keeping her." Lucy Hathaway pushed open the door to an adjoining chamber. Deborah's dress, which she had worn to Aiken's Opera House the previous night, lay slumped in a heap of tulle and silk on the floor. A mound of sheets lay scattered over the bed, while the smell of expensive perfume and despair hung in the air.

"Deborah, are you all right?" Lucy asked softly. She went to the window, parting the curtain to let in a bit of the waning evening light. In the distance, some of the taller buildings and steeples of distant Chicago stabbed the horizon. The sky was tinged dirty amber by the smoke and soot of industry. But closer to Amberley Grove, the genteel suburb where the school was located, the windswept evening promised to be a lovely one.

"Deborah, we've been pestering you for hours to get ready. Aren't you coming with us tonight?" Lucy persisted. Though the engagement bore the humble name of an evangelical reading, everyone knew it was simply an excuse for the cream of society to get together on the Sabbath. Though weighty spiritual issues might be discussed, lighter matters such as gossip and romance would be attended to with appropriate religious fervor. Tonight's particular social event had an added drama that had set tongues to wagging all week long. The intensely desired Dylan Kennedy was looking for a wife.

"Please, dear," Lucy said. "You're scaring me, and ordinarily nothing scares me."

Huddled on the bed, Deborah couldn't find the words to allay her friend's concern. She was trying to remember what her life had been like just twenty-four hours ago. She was trying to recall just who she was, tallying up the pieces of herself like items in a ledger book. A cherished only daughter. Fiancée of the most eligible man in Chicago. A privileged young woman poised on the threshold of a charmed life.

Everything had fallen apart last night, and she had no idea how to put it all back together.

"Make her hurry, do," Phoebe said, waltzing in from the next room with a polished silk evening dress pressed to her front. "Miss Boylan's coach will call for us in half an hour. Imagine! Dylan Kennedy is finally going to settle on a wife." She preened in front of a freestanding cheval glass, patting her glossy brown hair. "Isn't that deliciously romantic?"

"It's positively barbaric," said Lucy. "Why should we be paraded in front of men like horses at auction?"

"Because," Kathleen O'Leary said, joining them in Deborah's chamber, "Miss Boylan promised you would all be there. Three perfect young ladies," she added with a touch of Irish irony. She reached for the curtain that shrouded the bed. "Are you all right, then, miss?" she asked. "I've been trying like the very devil to attend to you all day." The maid put out a pale, nervous hand and patted the miserable mound of blankets.

Deborah felt assaulted by her well-meaning friends. She wanted to yell at them, tell them to leave her alone, but she had no idea how to assert her own wishes. No one had ever taught her to behave in such a fashion; it was considered unladylike in the extreme. She shrank back into the covers and pretended not to hear.

"She doesn't answer," Lucy said, her voice rising with worry.

"Please, Deborah," Phoebe said. "Talk to us. Are you ill?"

Deborah knew she would have no peace until she surrendered. With slow, painstaking movements, she made herself sit up, leaning against a bank of Belgian linen pillows. Three faces, as familiar as they were dear to her, peered into hers. They looked uncommonly beautiful, perhaps because they were all so different. Black-haired Lucy, carrot-topped Kathleen and Phoebe with her light brown curls. Their faces held the winsome innocence and anticipation Deborah herself had felt only yesterday.

"I'm not ill," she said softly, in a voice that barely sounded like her own.

"You look like hell," Lucy said with her customary bluntness.

Because I have been there.

"I'll send for the doctor." Kathleen started toward the door.

"No!" Deborah's sharp voice stopped the maid in her tracks. A doctor was unthinkable. "That is," she forced herself to say, "I assure you, I am not in the least bit ill." To prove her point, she forced herself out of bed and stood barefoot in the middle of the room.

"Well, that's a relief." With brisk bossiness, Phoebe took her hand and gave it a friendly, aggressive tug. Deborah stumbled along behind her and stepped into the brightly lit salon.

"I imagine you're simply overcome because you'll be a married woman a fortnight from now." Phoebe dropped her hand and smiled dreamily. "You are so fabulously lucky. How can you keep to your bed at such a magical time? If I were engaged to the likes of Philip Ascot, I should be pacing the carpets with excitement. The week before my sister married Mr. Vanderbilt, my mother used to joke that she needed an anchor to keep her feet on the ground."

Deborah knew Phoebe didn't mean for the words to hurt. Deborah was a motherless daughter, the saddest sort of creature on earth, and at a time like this the sense of loss gaped like an unhealed wound. She wondered what a young woman with a mother would do in this situation.

"So," Lucy said, "let's hurry along. We don't want to be late."

Through a fog of indifference, Deborah surveyed the suite cluttered with combs, atomizers, lacy underclothes, ribbons, masses of petticoats—a veritable explosion of femininity. It was the sort of scene that used to delight her, but everything was different now. Suddenly these things meant nothing to her. She had the strangest notion of being encased in ice, watching her friends through a wavy, frozen wall. The sense of detachment and distance hardened with each passing moment. She used to be one of the young ladies of Miss Boylan's famous finishing school, merry and certain of her place in the glittering world of Chicago's debutantes. It all seemed so artificial now, so pointless. She felt alienated from her friends and from the contented, foolish girl she used to be.

"And what about you, dear Kathleen? " Phoebe asked, aiming a pointed glance at the red-haired maid. Phoebe took every chance to remind Kathleen that she was merely the hired help, there at the sufferance of more privileged young women like herself. "What do you plan to do tonight?"

Kathleen O'Leary's face turned crimson. She had the pale almost translucent skin of her Irish heritage, and it betrayed every emotion. "You've left me a fine mess to be tidying up, miss. And won't that keep me busy 'til cock-crow." Saucy as ever, she exaggerated her brogue on purpose.

"You should come with us, Kathleen." Lucy, whose family had raised her to be a free thinker, didn't care a fig for social posturing, but she knew that important people would be attending. The politicians, industrialists and social reformers were valuable contacts for her cause—rights for women.

"Really, Lucy," scolded Phoebe. "Only the best people in town are invited. Dr. Moody's readings are strictly for—"

"The invitation was extended to every young lady at Miss Boylan's," Lucy, who was both wealthy and naive enough to be an egalitarian, reminded her.

"Stuff and nonsense," Kathleen said, her blush deepening.

"Perhaps you should attend," Phoebe said, a calculating gleam in her eye. "It might be fun to surprise everyone with a lady of mystery."

The old Deborah would have joined in the ruse with pleasure. Lively, intelligent Kathleen always added a sense of fun to the sometimes tedious routine of social climbing. But it was all too much to think about now, and she passed a shaking hand over her forehead. The celluloid hairpins she hadn't bothered to remove last night exaggerated the headache that made her grit her teeth. The pain hammered so hard at her temples that the pins seemed to pulse with a life of their own.

"Phoebe's right, Kathleen," Lucy was saying. "It'll be such fun. Please come."

"I've not a stitch to wear that wouldn't mark me as an imposter," Kathleen said, but the protest failed to mask the yearning in her voice. She had always harbored an endless fascination with high society.

"Yes, you have." Deborah forced herself out of her torpor. "You shall wear my new dress. I won't be needing it."

"Your Worth gown?" Phoebe demanded. At her father's insistence, Deborah's gowns all came from the Salon de Lumière in Paris. "For mercy's sake, you've never even worn it yourself."

"I'm not going." Deborah kept her voice as calm as she could even though she felt like screaming. "I must go into the city to see my father." She wasn't sure when she had made the decision, but there it was. She had a matter of utmost importance to discuss with him, and she could not put it off any longer.

"You can't go into the city tonight," Phoebe said. "Don't be silly. Who would chaperone you?"

"Just come with us," Lucy said, her voice gentle. "Come to the reading, and we'll take you to see your father afterward. Philip Ascot will be in attendance, won't he? He'll be expecting you. What on earth shall we tell him?"

The name of her fiancé rushed over Deborah like a chill wind. "I'll send my regrets."

"You aren't yourself at all." Lucy touched her arm, her light brush of concern almost powerful enough to shatter Deborah. "We shall go mad with worry if you don't tell us what's wrong."

Phoebe stuck out her foot so Kathleen could button her kid leather boot. "Was it last night's opera? You were fine when you left, but you stayed in bed all day long. Didn't you like Don Giovanni?"

Deborah turned away, a wave of nausea rolling over her. The notes of the Mozart masterpiece were forever burned into her.

"It's your bloody flux, isn't it?" Kathleen whispered, ignoring Phoebe's boot. "You've always suffered with the heavy pains. Let me stay behind and fix you a posset."

"It's not the flux," Deborah said.

Lucy planted her palm flat against the door. "This isn't like you. If something's wrong, you should tell us, dear."

Nothing's wrong. She tried to eke out the words, but they wouldn't come, because they were a lie. Everything was wrong and nothing could ever be the same. But how did she explain that, even to her best friends?

"It's of a private nature," she said faintly. "Please. I'll explain it all when I return."

"Oh, so you're going to be mysterious, are you?" Phoebe sputtered. "You're just trying to make yourself the center of attention, if you ask me."

"No one asked you," Lucy said wearily.

Phoebe sputtered some more, but no one was listening. Though she had come up through school with the rest of them, Phoebe had set herself apart from the others. Nearly as rich as Deborah and nearly as blueblooded as Lucy, she had concluded that the two "nearlys" added up to much loftier status than her friends enjoyed. She was a terrible and unrepentant snob, generally benign, though her remarks to Kathleen O'Leary sometimes brandished the sharp edge of malice. Phoebe alone understood that one did not simply abandon an exclusive social event. But this merely proved the inferiority of a girl like Deborah Sinclair. New-money people simply didn't understand the importance of attending the right sort of functions with the right sort of people.

"I'd best go ring for my driver," Deborah said.

Lucy moved away from the door. "It won't be the same without you."

Deborah bit her lip, afraid that the sympathy from her best friend would break through the icy barrier she had painstakingly erected between control and madness. "Help Kathleen with the gown," she said, hoping to divert everyone's attention to the masquerade.

After sending for her coach, Deborah buttoned on a simple blue serge dress and tugged a shawl around her shoulders. Pushing her feet into Italian kid leather boots, she didn't bother with the buttoning. Instead, she wound the ribbons haphazardly around her ankles and then jammed on a hat.

In the main salon, the others dressed more carefully. Eyes shining with forbidden pleasure, Kathleen stepped into the French gown, her homespun bloomers disappearing beneath layers of fancy petticoats. The gown of emerald silk and her Irish coloring gave her the look of a Celtic princess, and her face glowed with an excitement Deborah could no longer share.

Before leaving, Deborah stepped back and surveyed the scene, seeing it for the first time through the eyes of an outsider. Over her father's protests she had left his opulent, gilded mansion for the solid gothic halls of Miss Boylan's. Her father believed the very best young ladies were educated at home. But once he learned a Hathaway and a Palmer would be in attendance, he had relented and allowed Deborah to complete her education with finishing school. She looked with fondness upon Lucy, Kathleen and Phoebe, who were her closest companions and sometimes, she thought, her only friends. The four of them had shared everything—their hopes and dreams, their broken hearts and romantic triumphs.

Finally Deborah had encountered something she could not share with her friends. She could not. It was too devastating. Besides, she must tell her father. She must. Please God, she prayed silently. Let him understand. Just this once.

"Have a wonderful time this evening," she said, her hand on the door handle. "I shall want to hear all about Kathleen's debut when I return." She forced the words past a throat gone suddenly tight with terror.

Kathleen rushed to the door. "Miss Deborah, are you certain that—"

"Absolutely." The word was a mere gust of air.

"Let the poor thing go," Phoebe said in a distracted voice. She lifted her arm with the sinuous grace of a ballerina and drew on a silken glove. "If you stand around arguing all evening, we'll be late."

She and Lucy launched into a squabble over how Kathleen should wear her hair, and Deborah took the opportunity to slip out into the tall, cavernous hall and down to the foyer, where her driver waited. Outside, she saw the school's large, cumbersome rockaway carriage being hitched to four muscular horses. The school crest adorned the black enamel doors.

Deborah's private Bismarck-brown clarence, with its gleaming glass panes front and rear, waited at the curb. Thanks to her father's habit of flaunting his wealth, the expensive vehicle, with its experienced driver and Spanish coach horse, was always at her disposal. Within a few minutes, she was under way.

Most helpful customer reviews

48 of 51 people found the following review helpful.
A wonderful sense of place
By Suzanne B. Kelly
The Hostage, the first of a planned trio of stories about a group of girlfriends in 1870's Chicago, tells the story of Deborah Sinclair, a pampered, yet wounded, financier's daughter who is taken hostage by Tom Silver, a man bent on revenge against her father for a mining disaster. Tom forces Deborah away from her home on the night of the great Chicago fire, taking her to beautiful, yet primitive and remote Isle Royale, a large island off the spectacular Lake Superior coast of upper Michigan.
Having grown up in Michigan, with several trips a year to Chicago, I was able to enjoy this book on several levels. First off, it is a wonderful character study: we get to see two wounded people, narrowed to one-dimensionality by environment and circumstance, blossom into fully aware, realized people who not only discover romance and conquer their fears of intimacy, but also who discover themselves, and learn to resolve their personal tragedies. Secondly, I thoroughly enjoyed the "minor players" - namely, Chicago and Isle Royale/Lake Superior. Each place is, in its own way, stunning, majestic, powerful, and sometimes cruel. It made me homesick, and reminded me of my own families' stories of "the great fire."
This story is not for those looking for a quick read with instant gratification--we are there for each small step on Tom and Deborah's roads to recovery. The romance, and the healing, grows slowly, and the ending is perhaps a little too swift given such a long buildup. But this is a minor flaw in a tale that is both grand and also intimate. The book does, definitely, reward a patient reading.

29 of 32 people found the following review helpful.
An outstanding Read!
By Maudeen Wachsmith
When I first heard of the subject matter of Susan Wiggs' latest novel, I was both intrigued and a bit skeptical. A hostage falling in love with her captor -- the plot has been done many times before and the subject seemed dated. A spoiled little rich girl and a rugged outdoorsman -- ditto. And, in less talented hands, the book might have been dated and nothing new. But given the gifted pen of Susan Wiggs this book works and works well. A more exciting beginning would be hard to find -- the story begins with the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. The rest of the book takes place on the route up lake Michigan, through the locks to Lake Superior's Isle Royale, introducing the readr to a whole host of interesting characters. A heroine with a social consience, despite her privileged upbringing and a captor with a lot of heart - what else can a reader want? I can hardly wait to read the next two books in the series!

20 of 21 people found the following review helpful.
How a tradegy can change ones life
By TSchlaack
This is a great story about how a tragedy and the things that come after it can change your way of life. This story has the main character kidnapped on the night of the great Chicago Fire. She was already wondering what she was going to do with her life do to another personal tragedy, she figured she was only trained to be "pretty" and not to even dress herself. This kidnapping teaches her a lot about herself. It is really fun to read about her change in attitude etc... and laugh as she learns things the hard way. At the same time it teaches her kidnapper a bit about himself, as well as a distant town learns not everyone with the same name is "evil". In the climax of the book you also learn alot about survival in the later 1800's and how things differ today. An excellent read. Not too much emphasis on the sensuality.

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@ Ebook From This Moment On (Sullivans), by Bella Andre

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Expanded Edition! More Story! More Sullivans!

Fans of Bella Andre's Sullivan Series will love this long-awaited print edition of FROM THIS MOMENT ON. It features a longer, more-detailed story with all the emotion and sensuality that readers love. Not to be missed!

Just one night…

Marcus Sullivan has always been the responsible older brother, stepping in to take care of his seven siblings when their father died. But when the perfectly ordered future he's planned turns out to be a lie, Marcus needs one reckless night to shake free from it all.

Known throughout the world by only one name—Nico—pop songstress Nicola Harding is seen as the ultimate sex kitten. But it's all a lie. After a terrible betrayal she refuses to let anyone else close enough to find out who she really is…or to hurt her again. Especially the gorgeous stranger at the bar.

One night is all Nicola and Marcus agree to share with each other. But instead, a deeper connection than either of them could have anticipated begins….

• Sales Rank: #320906 in Books
• Brand: Brand: Harlequin MIRA
• Published on: 2012
• Released on: 2013-06-25
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.62" h x 1.01" w x 4.12" l, .45 pounds
• Binding: Paperback
• 379 pages

Features

• Great product!

Review
"Sensual, empowered stories enveloped in heady romance."

~ Publishers Weekly

"Don't miss a single one of Bella Andre's titles."
~ Affaire de Coeur magazine

"Bella Andre writes warm, sexy contemporary romance that always gives me a much needed pick me up. Reading one of her books is truly a pleasure."

~ New York Times bestselling author Maya Banks

"The Look of Love is an emotionally compelling, thoroughly sexy, lovely read. I can't wait for more Sullivan brothers!"

~ Carly Phillips, New York Times bestselling author

"The Look of Love is the perfect combination of sexy heat and tender heart. This character- driven romance has brains, brawn and the perfect bad boy to launch a whole family's worth of fun."

~ Barbara Freethy, #1 New York Times bestselling author

"I am absolutely smitten with Chase, Chloe and the Sullivan family. I can't wait to read the rest of their stories."
~ Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews on The Look of Love

"Color me happily surprised that a true contemporary romance snagged my jaded heart: hook, line and sinker....Bella Andre is one of those sneaky writers that can spin a romance that is at once sweet and sexy. "
~ Guilty Indulgence Book Club on The Look of Love

About the Author

New York Times bestselling author Bella Andre is known for “sensual, empowered stories enveloped in heady romance” (Publishers Weekly). Winner of the Award of Excellence, the Washington Post has called her “one of the top digital writers in America.” Married with two children, Bella splits her time between Northern California and the Adirondacks. You can visit Bella online at www.BellaAndre.com.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


Marcus Sullivan was a man on a mission.

Twenty minutes ago he'd left his brother's engagement party and had headed straight for the belly of San Francisco's Mission District. Dance music pounded out into the streets, loud enough that the crowds waiting in line were already dancing.

Leather and piercings, tattoos and fluorescent hair, weren't part of the look of Marcus's usual crowd. Despite their wild appearances, the men and women in line looked happy, at least.

Marcus was planning on being a hell of a lot happier himself in a couple of hours.

Not, he thought, that he had any chance of being as happy as his brother Chase, who was now engaged to the woman of his dreams. One month ago, Chase had met Chloe in Napa Valley when her car had skidded off the road into a muddy ditch. Unfortunately, as soon as Chase got Chloe out of the rainstorm, he saw the bruise on her cheek and realized that she had much bigger problems than just a busted-up car in a ditch. It had taken Chase several days to gain her trust, and when she'd finally confessed what her ex-husband had done to her, Chase had given her the support she'd needed to report her abuser to the police.

The first time Marcus met Chloe he'd immediately been able to see that his brother was smitten. He also thought his brother had made a good choice in falling for Chloe. She was beautiful, but she was also a very sweet, intelligent, brave and loving person. She clearly loved his brother with the same passion and equal devotion.

Their whole family had been at his brother's engagement party this evening—even Smith, who was one of the biggest, and busiest, movie stars in the world. Chase was the first Sullivan to get engaged, and it was a big deal to all of them. Especially for their mother, who had been both pleased—and more than a little relieved—that one of her eight children had finally decided to take the plunge into "forever."

Marcus had enjoyed celebrating with his brother, with his siblings and his mother. But throughout the party, he'd felt as if everyone had been looking at him, and wondering why he and his girlfriend, Jill, weren't yet engaged. After all, they'd been together for two years. And he'd settled down with her during those twenty-four months. Way down.

None of his family knew the reason why Jill hadn't come to the engagement party.. and he hadn't wanted to ruin Chase and Chloe's party by filling them in on what had happened. Besides, he could still hardly believe it himself.

Even though he'd seen what Jill had done with his very own eyes.

The music from inside the club was getting louder as Marcus walked past the long line of people waiting to get inside. It seemed to him that everyone was at least a decade younger than he was, and even though that age difference should have made him feel out of place, he was even more certain that he'd chosen the right destination tonight.

He needed a complete break from reality, and a club full of twentysomethings in the Mission was as good a place to start as any.

Despite the fact that he was wearing a suit and tie, the bouncer took one look at him and opened up the latch on the rope to let him in. Marcus was a large man, with broad shoulders, and big hands that were capable of doing damage if ever his brothers and sisters had needed him to defend them when they were kids. Although he didn't often use his size to intimidate people, he wasn't averse to using whatever tools he had at his disposal when he needed them.

The dark, heavy beat of the music throbbed through him as he stepped through the black doorway into the crowded club, but neither it nor the strobe lights came close to obliterating his thoughts.

But that wasn't why he was here. He wasn't here to forget what he'd seen.

No, Marcus thought, his gut twisting at the sight of a couple holding each other close as they danced slowly together despite the fast-paced song. He didn't want to forget and he wouldn't let himself make that mistake again. He would never be that stupid, that blind, ever again.

Marcus was here tonight to make up for two wasted years. Twenty-four months ago, he'd met Jill in San Francisco on a hot August night. He was a guest at a charity event her firm was hosting, and Sullivan Winery had made a very sizable donation to the Children's Fund. As soon as he'd set eyes on her cool blonde beauty, he believed he'd found the missing puzzle piece in his life. He was thirty-four and had started to think about a family of his own, about a wife, and kids.

In Jill, he'd seen his future: marriage, kids, estate dinners at his winery with the perfect wife by his side.

Only, as he'd learned that afternoon, it hadn't been perfect at all…

Marcus could hear moaning even as he turned his key in the lock to Jill's apartment. It could have been a movie turned up too loud for the dirty parts, but Marcus knew better—had known better for months, if he was being honest with himself. Jill had been distracted and moody for a while now. He'd tried to convince himself that it was simply pressure from her job that was making her short with him, not to mention being less and less interested in sex. But when she'd stopped coming to Napa to relax at the winery on weekends, he'd had to admit to himself that their problems went deeper than too much work. They were deep enough that he'd tried to talk to her more than once, even though she kept pushing his questions away.

His hand stilled on the doorknob for a split second before he pushed open the door and moved through his girlfriend's apartment, the moaning growing louder with every step he took.

"Ooh, that's it! Right there! Just like that!"

Jill had always been a screamer in bed, but he'd never realized just how false it sounded until now, when he was getting a taste of her show from the cheap seats. His hands tightened into fists as he turned through her kitchen and headed down the hall to her master bedroom. He didn't really want to see this, but he knew he needed to. He'd been so stubborn about sticking with her…and as he heard her continue to scream her heart out in faux ecstasy with whatever guy she was doing, Marcus suddenly had to ask himself why?

He'd long ago asked her to move up to Napa to live at his winery with him, but she'd always had a reason to put it off. The latest was that her current apartment was a rare find barely a block away from her financial planning company with its frequent 4:40 a.m. wake-up calls. She told him he could stay over at her apartment whenever he wanted.

Only, the truth was that Marcus had never felt at home in her apartment. Everything was a cold shade of white with mirrored and glass surfaces that smudged at the slightest touch. It wasn't a home that children would ever be welcome in.

After growing up as one of eight siblings, he knew exactly what muddy feet and dirty hands could do to furniture like this. It wasn't pretty, but it was life. Real life.

His house in Napa Valley, by contrast, was full of large, comfortable couches, colorful rugs imported from Italy and artwork he loved, whether painted by a famous artist or an up-and-coming local painter.

But he'd wanted a future with her and he'd assumed making good on that future meant bending, compromising.

How many weekends had he come to the city to see Jill when it suited her? How many times had he changed his entire schedule at a moment's notice to be there for her when she needed him?

He knew his brothers and sisters all had an opinion about Jill, of course, but amazingly, they'd been fairly reticent about sticking their noses into his relationship with her. Maybe because they'd figured he would come to his senses eventually. Only Chase had recently tried to talk to him about Jill. But, by then, things were a big enough mess that Marcus hadn't exactly encouraged his brother's questions and concerns.

So, yes, Marcus knew he'd given up what he wanted to try to make Jill happy too many times to count.

But never, not once, had he ever walked in on a live porn show, much less one starring his girlfriend.

She was riding the guy like he was a bucking bronco and she was the star rodeo rider. The only thing she was missing was the cowboy hat, boots and braided rein.

He saw naked skin and limbs—hell, he couldn't miss them from the bedroom door—but it was as if he was watching them from a clinical distance. Like watching a triple-X cable channel that had accidentally flipped on in a hotel room when he wasn't in the mood to watch strangers have nasty sex on TV.

And then, suddenly, the guy under his girlfriend noticed Marcus standing in the doorway.

"What the fuck?" He looked at Marcus with alarm. Clearly, he hadn't been expecting anyone to walk in.

That was when Jill shifted slightly to look over her shoulder at Marcus. Her eyes widened in what was supposed to be surprise. But he knew her well enough to see through it. For as much as her lover hadn't expected Marcus to appear, Jill had been counting on it.

How long had she been deceiving him with this guy?

And what other aspects of their relationship had been a lie?

Not rushing in the least, Jill moved to pull a sheet over her and her lover. As Marcus watched them slide apart, he could tell she was working on looking as seductive as possible as she covered up part of her nakedness. Her lover, on the other hand, was clearly trying to leave as fast as possible.

"I'll get out of here," the guy said as he reached over the side of her bed and yanked his jeans up off the floor, but Jill put her hand over his so that he'd stay on the bed.

"No, Rocco, you don't need to leave."

Rocco? His classically beautiful girlfriend, the woman he'd been planning to marry and start a family with, the woman he'd planned to share the helm of Sullivan Vineyards with, was screwing a guy named Rocco with a nasty-looking goatee and piercings? He looked to be barely in his twenties.

It had to be some sort of sick joke.

The guy looked between Jill and Marcus, going a little white as his gaze lingered on Marcus's fists and the way his shoulders took up the bulk of the doorway, but he remained right where Jill had him, staying on the bed like a well-trained pet.

Jill got up off the bed and dropped the sheet, then slid on a short, blue silk robe that had been draped over a chair in the corner of her room. She moved toward Marcus and informed him, "We should go talk in the living room."

Thankfully, she slipped past without touching him, but she was close enough for Marcus to smell sex on her. To smell some other guy on her.

He wanted to pound his fist into Rocco's face. But, clearly, Jill had engineered this. Start to finish.

So he'd deal with her instead.

Marcus moved back through the hallway to the living room where Jill was waiting for him.

She didn't look guilty. And, for the first time since that day in August two years ago when he'd seen her across a room and decided she was his future, he didn't think she looked beautiful, either. Yes, she was still classically pretty, tall and slim…but there was an ugliness stamped across her face that he'd never let himself see before.

"I'm falling in love with Rocco."

As apologies went, it sucked.

In his silence, as he simply stared at her in the living room they'd shared dinners and movies and laughter that suddenly seemed so false, she continued with a defensive, "You and I both know our relationship wasn't going anywhere."

Finally, his response came. "I'm the one who wanted it to go somewhere. You said you needed time. I gave you time, enough time to screw around on me. With Rocco."

Jill's eyes widened at the barely repressed fury in his voice. He'd never spoken to her like that before, had never been the kind of man who raised his voice to make a point, or who opted to be a bully to get his way. He'd gotten where he was by working hard and being smart and reasonable, with some Sullivan charm thrown in when he needed it. Only when he was a kid had he ever used his fists to defend his brothers and sisters, and only when a bully wouldn't give up for any other reason.

"Look," she said with an irritated sigh as if he was entirely to blame for the mess they were in, "this thing between us, it was good for a while, at least at the very start, but if we'd really been in love we would be married by now."

He raised an eyebrow and called her on it. "You know I wanted to get married."

She shook her head. "We were together for two years, Marcus. If you really wanted to marry me, you would have swept me off my feet so that I wouldn't have been able to resist. But you were always so busy with your brothers and sisters, always going to help your mother with something."

Her expression had finally changed from calculating to honest anger. "I tried to love you, Marcus. I really did. But I want something more. Something bigger. Something exciting. And I want someone who puts me first. All the time. No matter what else is going on in his life, even if his friends and family try to get in the way." Her eyes lit as she said, "I want what I have with Rocco, the way he thinks I'm so sexy and important. Not to sit by your side and wear pearls at your winery events. And not to always be the last priority in your life."

Marcus stared at the woman he'd so stupidly assumed would be his wife, the mother of his children. The pearl necklace he'd given her was still on her neck, the only thing she'd had on while she'd been having sex with another man.

She talked about his being too busy with his brothers and sisters, but what did she expect him to do? Walk away from them for her? He could have never done that—would have never done it—not when he was as much a father figure to his siblings as he was a brother. Because after their father had died unexpectedly when he was only forty-eight, Marcus had immediately stepped in to help his mother, especially with the younger kids who were only two and four at the time. He didn't regret one second of time he'd spent with his family.

Hell would freeze over before he'd apologize to Jill for still loving them now.

Especially when what he was mainly interested in at the moment was ripping the pearls off Jill's neck and watching them scatter all over the floor.

Instead, he said in a calm, cold voice, "I'll send my assistant for my things next week. She'll contact you to arrange a convenient time."

"See?" Jill came at him now, her finger pointed at his chest, her robe gaping open across her breasts.

He'd once loved her small breasts, thought they were just as classically beautiful as the rest of her. Now, they did nothing for him. Less than nothing. He silently swore that the next woman he was with was going to be the polar opposite of her, as wild as Jill was polished.

Most helpful customer reviews

26 of 29 people found the following review helpful.
Fun and Sensual
By Anna D. Nguyen
Marcus and Nicola's story only make you love the Sullivan family even more. Marcus is the mysterious,quiet business man with desires that break out with the appearance of an outgoing spark named Nicola. She is fun, but shy inside and her sensual side breaks out and collides with Marcus.' The romance builds and the sex only gets hotter.

39 of 46 people found the following review helpful.
Male domination just isn't "sweet"
By someproseandcon
A light read that isn't demanding and that checks off all the boxes in the contemporary romance formula: sweet and misunderstood heroine (the pop star Nichola, known as Nico) falls hard for the conscientious and caring hero (Marcus, who is wonderful with kids and mixes strength with tenderness in a way that caters to every woman's romantic fantasies).

However, the big turn-off for me was the way in which this strong and independent woman was so quickly and inexplicably drawn into being dominated (spanking and a rather total submission to his commands in the bedroom): "She took a shaky breath. She knew she didn't have to say it, but something inside her wanted to, wanted to please him. '--my body is as much yours as it is mine.'"

We are repeatedly reassured that Nichola is "safe" with Marcus, but when is it ever safe or healthy for a woman to put herself in a one-sided position of total surrender and domination?

Maybe others can enjoy this rosy fantasy of male dominance, but I just find it odd and unsettling.

44 of 54 people found the following review helpful.
Never Again
By Melinda Santa Cruz
I'll admit that I'm still reading the first chapter of "From This Moment On," and already I am appalled by the poor quality of the writing, not that romance novels are necessarily considered literature, but omg...am I missing something? How could anyone take this book seriously and not go running back to the store for a refund.

I can't explain Ms. Andre's best selling status. I will chalk it up as one of the great mysteries of life. If you know anything about writing, run.

First of all, the first fourteen pages are almost nothing but narrative. Good writers will open the story with a hook. In this book, there is none. The fact that Marcus leaves his brother's engagement party in order to go to a club is just a way to drop large chunks of flashbacks into the story. Ms. Andre does a lot of telling and not showing, paints no word pictures. The sentences are all about the same length and the pace is always the same, doesn't let the reader breathe. There is no ebb and flow. The flashbacks take the reader too far out of the story. The real story starts on page 14:

"She was riding the guy like he was a bucking bronco and she was the star rodeo rider," would have been much more interesting than the cliché, "Marcus was a man on a mission."

In the first chapter, Marcus is described as a man who looked at Jill in terms of the future, as a wife and mother. And then the author writes that her house wasn't the type to have children in it. Than why does he see her as someone to marry and have kids with? After catching his girlfriend cheating he hopes to find a woman to have a family with some day, but for now, he just wants to boff anyone. That doesn't make sense to me.

There is no creative writing at all. On page sixteen, Andre misses a great opportunity for a steamy scene. She writes, "Jill got off the bed and dropped the sheet, then slid on a short, blue silk robe that had been draped over a chair in the corner of her room." Wouldn't it have been wonderful if she had described the way that the hero looked at her as she undressed, or even maybe the details of her body?

Another missed opportunity: "Nicola Harding stood in the window of her penthouse suite looking down on San Francisco's Union Square and watched the people walking on the street below." Wouldn't it have been grand if she had described the penthouse suite or the twinkling lights down below. Maybe a description of San Francisco's Union Square would have sufficed, or even the people she saw.

I just don't know how anyone could engage in this story. If anyone can enlighten me, I'm dying to know. The editors of Harlequin should know better. It's as if they know it's trash but figure it's good enough. It is an insult to the reader. if you are interested in serious writing that belongs on the bestseller list, try Nora Roberts, Luanne Rice, real-life word painters. Their writing and stories are truly amazing.

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Vengeance ruled his days . . . and nights.

An infamous sea captain of the British Royal Navy, Devlin O'Neill is consumed with the need to destroy the man who brutally murdered his father. Having nearly ruined the Earl of Eastleigh financially, he is waiting for his moment to strike the final blow. And it comes in the form of a spirited young American woman, the earl's niece, who is about to set his cold, calculating world on fire.

Pride inflamed her spirit

Born and raised on a tobacco plantation, Virginia Hughes is determined to rebuild her beloved Sweet Briar. Daringly, she sails to England alone, hoping to convince her uncle to lend her the funds. Instead, she finds herself ruthlessly kidnapped by the notorious Devlin O'Neill. As his hostage, she will soon find her best laid plans thwarted by a passion that could seal their fates forever.

Love conquered them both

Against the backdrop of a turbulent war between England and America, Devlin and Virginia are torn apart by duty, pride and honor. Their private battle is one that Virginia must win-for at stake is Devlin's heart. But as the war rages ever closer to Sweet Briar, each must make the ultimate sacrifice-and surrender to the healing power of their consuming love.

• Sales Rank: #1280193 in Books
• Brand: Mira
• Published on: 2004-10-01
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 1.13" h x 4.24" w x 6.62" l,
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 512 pages

Features

• Great product!

Review
"Joyce's writing is like silk! Powerful, evocative and emotionally charged!" -- Literary Times

About the Author
Brenda Joyce is the bestselling, award-winning author of Promise of the Rose, Scandalous Love and The Fires of Paradise. All nine of her historical romances have been highly acclaimed, and four of them, including the first three novels in the "Bragg" saga Innpocent Fire, Firestorm, and Violet Fire have won six awards from Romantic Times and Affaire de Coeur. She has also won three industry awards for her trendsetting promotional bookmarks from Affaire de Coeur. Brenda Joyce is currently working on her next novel.

Most helpful customer reviews

8 of 8 people found the following review helpful.
No Prize Here
By paperbackvacation
This was my first Brenda Joyce novel, and as a result I am a little reluctant to read any more of her books. As I see it, there were three main problems with The Prize:
1. Virginia, the heroine, boards a ship from Norfolk, Virginia, to England to beg her uncle for money to save her plantation from being sold off. Adding to the high stakes of this sale are her best friend, Tillie, and her husband and children who are slaves on the estate. With the plantation sold, they would all be separated and subject to any kind of cruelty. On her way to England, Virginia's ship is commandeered by Devlin, who kidnaps her and holds her for ransom to avenge his father's murder. Virginia's people's lives depend on her, and she quickly loses focus. The plantation and it people are forgotten as Virginia falls in love with Devlin, and makes no move to save what she so desperately wanted in the beginning of the book. How can I respect a character who loses sight of the people that need her help?
2. The "hero" was a jerk. Other than his good looks and wealth, he has no redeeming qualities and he treats Virginia abominably. I just couldn't respect Virginia for loving a cold, robotic man who kidnapped her and dismissed what she loved most- her plantation.
3. The hero's brother, Sean, was just as handsome, but a nice guy who shares Virginia's love of the land. After being left in his care for five months, and after he admits he loves her, why wouldn't Virginia fall in love with a man like him?
Again, I can't respect a heroine who willingly walks right into an abusive relationship (with Devlin), forgets the lives that are at stake back on her plantation, and refuses the love of a good man.
Although I enjoyed Brenda Joyce's style of writing, if her other novels have characters as unlikable and amoral, this will be the last one I read.

10 of 11 people found the following review helpful.
This was a total mess.
By Dejavu
I have to agree with so many of the other reviewers. I absolutely started to loath this book and the author for creating such a story. I couldn't believe what a sniveling weakling the "heroine" was. Give me a break...who wants to be treated like a trollop and spit upon at every turn. How could the main character Virginia come off as being so strong upon introduction and become so weak? I was sooooo disappointed in this book. I found myself on more than one occasion just flipping through some of the pages in an attempt to just get it over with. I honestly detested this story.

13 of 16 people found the following review helpful.
Zero stars, actually.
By Gerwysse
This is, seriously, the dumbest historical romance novel I've ever read.

We've got the dumb hero, bent on his revenge. I've only seen similar single-minded persistence in toddlers playing peek-a-boo. Add to this the fact that Joyce gives us absolutely nothing to like in the man/boy. In most (or in well-done) historical novels, we can see what the heroine sees to love in the hero, and we fall in love with him a little, too. None of that, here.

There's the dumb heroine, who falls in 'love' with the hero based on nothing but that he looks really, really good. There is literally nothing else to their relationship other than the physical attraction (and the fact that Love-with-a-Capital-Ell is necessary as a plot device). The heroine starts out promisingly enough, in a Scarlett O'Hara rip-off kind of way, but swiftly becomes a weepy, wilting, pathetic thing, constantly clinging to the hero and (I kid you not) begging him to love her.

This happens throughout the book. Unlike in good historical romances, there is no "turn" in the relationship until maybe the last 50 of the 500-or-so pages. The hero remains determined to be stupid. His mind changes in a miraculous turn of events -- and there are few things more annoying than a completely out-of-the-blue 'miraculous turn of events'. This one is especially baseless and annoying: "Surprahzz! I've decided to give up ALL my evil ways and be the doting husband now!"

Speaking of the Scarlett O'Hara rip-offyness of it: Joyce REALLY should have re-thought Virginia's repeated thoughts of moral superiority over the soldier Devlin ("Oh Em Gee! He KILLS people!"), as she freaking OWNS people without a thought, except when some slaves escape and she thinks what a terrible thing that is, because, you know, the slaves were so very very happy at Sweetbriar. Joyce's see-no-evil, hear-no-evil stance on slavery is very odd here given her careful historical research in all the other areas of the novel -- the one thing the book has going for it. If you'd like to read impeccable research *in conjunction with* beautifully-done characters and brilliant plotting (and super-hot sex!), look at Mary Jo Putney's novels.

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@ Download Ebook Body Heat (Department 6 Novel), by Brenda Novak

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Twelve people have been shot at point-blank range and left to rot in the desert sun. It's Sophia St. Claire's job to do something about it. She's Bordertown, Arizona's new chief of police—and she's out of her depth.

Help arrives in the form of Department 6 hired gun Roderick Guerrero. As far as Sophia's concerned, his involvement only makes things worse. Maybe he's managed to turn his life around. And maybe he's a good investigator. But as the bastard son of a wealthy local rancher, he has a history he can't get past. A history that includes her.

Rod refuses to leave town until the killer is caught. He's not worried about the danger posed by some vigilante. It's Sophia who threatens him. Because he's used to risking his life—but his heart is another story.

• Sales Rank: #1255159 in Books
• Brand: Mira Books
• Published on: 2010
• Released on: 2010-08-31
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.62" h x 1.13" w x 4.21" l, .46 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 448 pages

Features

• Great product!

About the Author

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Brenda Novak has penned over 45 novels. A two-time Rita nominee, she's won The National Reader's Choice, The Bookseller's Best, The Bookbuyer's Best and many other awards. She runs an annual online auction for diabetes research every May at www.brendanovak.com. To date, she’s raised over $2 million. Brenda considers herself lucky to be a mother of five and married to the love of her life.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


Racism is man's gravest threat to man—the maximum of hatred for a minimum of reasons.

—Abraham J. Heschel, rabbi and philosopher (1907–72)

Benita Sanchez was almost as afraid of running into a rattlesnake as she was U.S. Customs and Border Protection. The CBP would send her and her husband back to Mexico. But a snake… The way José said she should creep across the ground—always staying low, very low—made her feel so vulnerable. Snakes came out at night, when the temperature cooled. She could easily stumble into one. Maybe they'd hear a brief shake of the rattle, but they'd never see its beady eyes or sharp fangs before it struck. Since they'd lost their coyote, or smuggler, they had only the moon to help them. And it was barely a sliver—a sliver that looked like a tiny rent in a gigantic dome of black velvet, which was slowly turning purple as the night edged toward dawn.

Although they'd crossed the border with thirty-one other Mexican nationals, they were now alone. Everyone had scattered when the border patrol spotted them more than twenty-four hours ago. Had any of those people made it safely back to Mexico? Or were they in some holding cell? She and José had escaped "La Migra," but she was no longer sure she considered them lucky. Did José actually know where he was leading her? He said he did. He'd come to America once, but that was five years ago. And their coyote had promised they'd have only a six-hour walk. Even if she deducted for the time they'd spent sleeping, they'd been on their feet for eighteen.

As they came to a cluster of mobile homes, José whispered to circle wide and crouch lower. He'd once told her it was easy to sneak across la frontera. But it hadn't been easy at all. Although he'd insisted she wear several layers of clothing, the thorny plants that scrabbled for purchase in the rocky soil still managed to sink sharp spines through the fabric or scratch her somewhere she wasn't covered. Add to that the hunger, thirst, homesickness and fear— fear of snakes, dogs, drug-runners, thieves, unfriendly Americans, La Migra—and it was almost unbearable. The whole world felt hostile.

Tears began to burn behind Benita's eyes. She wasn't sure she could go on. She hoped the presence of these trailers meant they were on the outskirts of a town where she could at least get a drink of water, but even if they were close, two miles seemed like fifty when you were walking through the desert.

"José?" She could hear the determined crunch of his footsteps in front of her.

At the sound of her voice, he stopped. "You must be quiet," he replied in rapid Spanish. "Do you want the people in that trailer to hear you? If they do, they'll call the border patrol!"

The mobile home they skirted was one of the nicer ones she'd seen, a double-wide with a yard and everything. But its white paint seemed to glow in the dark, making it look like a giant ghost with flat, empty eyes. This was a soulless, godforsaken land. How could it be the paradise José promised?

"Maybe we could drink from the hose," she suggested.

He hesitated and finally agreed. He had to be thirsty, too. But as they drew close, a dog began to bark, so he grabbed her hand and yanked her away.

"Agua!" she begged.

"We can't risk it."

"Then let's try another place. Maybe the next one won't have a dog."

"We're almost there."

He'd been saying that for miles. Unable to believe him anymore, she stopped walking. "I'm scared. I want to turn back."

"¿Estás loca?" he said, instantly angry. "We've come too far. We can't go back."

"But…" She swallowed hard. "How much longer?"

"We'll be there soon," he promised.

But would she be any happier after they arrived? They were going to a safe house and then the home of his cousin, Carlos Garcia. She'd met Carlos on two different occasions and didn't like him. He enjoyed playing the big shot, pretending to be something he wasn't. She didn't want José to become like him….

"Hurry!"

Her husband was getting impatient. Benita knew how much this trip meant to him. He'd talked of it the whole time they were dating, painted appealing pictures of the opportunities to be found in America. But…

Gathering her courage, she started after him again. She wouldn't be a disappointment, wouldn't make him regret marrying her. Besides, as he said, they'd come too far to turn back. Surely the number of mobile homes meant they were indeed close to the safe house. Bordertown was as far as they had to go tonight. It was all arranged. They'd rest, then they'd call Carlos and he'd pick them up and take them to Phoenix. There, they'd live with him and two other roommates and, hopefully, find work so they could help pay the mortgage until they'd saved enough to afford their own place.

"Aren't you worried about snakes?" she grumbled.

"Snakes will be the least of our worries if you don't keep moving."

Sighing, she tried to move faster, but with every step she wished she'd been able to talk José out of this. They were young and in love; they could make a living in Mexico somehow, couldn't they? She didn't want to go to America. Maybe he could make more money here—big money, like he said—but would they ever be happy living in a foreign land? A land that didn't want them? And what if they were caught and deported after they'd begun to build a life here?

It was a risk Benita didn't want to take. "José, I really, really want to go home." The tears she'd been holding back began to stream down her cheeks.

He didn't even turn around. "You'll be glad we did this. Just…trust me."

She thought of the water bottle they'd finished hours ago. Would they find themselves lost in the desert when the sun came up in less than an hour? Would they stagger around in the one hundred and fifteen degree heat without food or water and eventually die a terrible death?

The mere possibility made her shudder. All she had left was a pocketful of nuts. And they were covered with salt.

"We shouldn't have crossed," she said. "We should not have done this."

A gruff chuckle alerted them to the presence of a third party. "Well, well…what do you know? It sounds as if someone is coming to their senses."

Benita squealed, then clamped a hand over her mouth. A dark amorphous shape stood in front of them, blocking the faint light of the moon. She couldn't make out specific features, but she knew he was a stranger. And she was pretty sure he was wearing a cowboy hat and holding a gun. He had something in his hand….

Was he white? She might've thought so except he spoke perfect Spanish.

Her husband inched toward her, placing his body in front of hers, and she let him. She hadn't yet told José, hadn't wanted to worry him before their trip el norte, but she'd just found out she was pregnant.

"Disculpe, señor," he said. "We—we mean no harm. We are passing through, that is all."

The stranger switched to English, which seemed to come as naturally to him as Spanish. "What you're doing is illegal, mi amigo."

Although he knew bits of English, much more than Benita did, José wasn't fluent. He stuck with his native tongue. "But we are just visiting family. We mean no harm. We plan to go back to Mexico after two weeks. We stay only two weeks."

It was an obvious lie, and the man was far from fooled. "Shut up." Again he spoke in English but even Benita understood the meaning of those sharp words.

"Señor, please." José edged closer to her. "It is only me and my—my little brother. We have no drugs, nothing."

This time, the response came in Spanish. "Your brother."

He'd heard her speak, which made this another transparent lie, but Benita kept her mouth shut, in case he believed José. Some boys had high voices, didn't they?

"Sí. He—he is frightened. Por favor…please, do not hurt him."

Benita could hardly breathe. The stories of rape, beatings, robbery and other abuse that occurred during border crossings had circulated throughout Mexico. Parents used them to warn their children to stay home, as her father had warned her. But, other than to insist she chop her hair short and wear a baseball cap and men's clothing, José had shrugged off her parents' concerns. He said they worried for no reason and promised her everything would be fine.

"Stop groveling or I'll shoot you both right where you stand."

Those words and the disgust in the stranger's voice made Benita start shaking. Who was this man? What was he doing out here? If he was a border patrol agent, he would've told them by now, wouldn't he? Had they interrupted a drug run? Or was this a local farmer who didn't want them on his land?

"I—I have money," José said.

They didn't have a lot. It was Carlos who was supposed to pay their coyote once they'd made it safely across. But at this point Benita was ready to turn herself in to the authorities. She didn't care if he sacrificed every peso.

The man laughed. "You think I'm a dirty cop—like the kind you have in Mexico?"

José didn't answer. "Forgive me. I am not trying to offend you, señor."

"Your smell offends me, amigo. You being where you don't belong offends me. And the fact that every word out of your mouth is a lie offends me."

There was a click, and a brief flash of light. Benita covered her face, bracing for the worst. But he was only lighting a cigarette. She caught a brief glimpse of his chin, which was covered with dark stubble, before he closed his lighter.

"I'll make you a deal," he said, blowing smoke in their faces.

"Sí. Money. You want money?" José bent to get the cash hidden in his sock.

"I don't want your lousy dinero. You couldn't have enough pesos to buy me a new pair of boots, amigo. What I want is for you to undress your little brother here. I'll use my night-vision goggles to take a peek at his chest. If he is, as you say, a boy, I'll let you pass. You can head on to Tucson or L.A. or wherever else and bleed this country dry just like all your wetback relatives who've snuck over the border before you. But—" he took another long drag on his cigarette "—if she's got tetas…" Another blast of smoke hit Benita in the face, making her cough. "I'm going to punish you for being the lying sack of shit you are."

José didn't move. Benita could feel his tension, could tell he was weighing his options. What had the man said? She'd recognized only a few words. Would José decide to run? They couldn't. They'd be shot.

"Okay, I—I admit it. This is my wife, not my brother." José's voice was raspy with desperation. "But…she's barely twenty, señor. And she's frightened. Please, I beg you. Let us go. We will head back to Mexico. Right now."

The man took another drag. "Until next week or the week after. Then you'll come creeping across the border again." He switched to Spanish, no doubt to make sure she'd understand. "I read an article that said you wetbacks try at least six times before giving up. Takes some pretty big balls to be so bold, you know what I'm saying? Besides, someone's got to die. Might as well be you."

Die? Benita sank to her knees. "No, por favor! I—I didn't even want to come here. I'd rather go home. I'll stay home. Don't hurt us."

He made a tsking sound. "How could you put your wife in such danger, Pedro?"

He had never asked for José's name. He was using "Pedro" as a racial slur. She could feel this man's hatred as palpably as the heat of the sun when it beat down at midday. But she was glad José didn't complain. He squeezed her shoulder. Probably to comfort her. Maybe to convey an apology. You were right. We should've stayed. "I was just…trying to give her a better life," he said.

A light went on in the closest trailer. When the man turned to look, José grabbed a handful of Benita's shirt and jerked her forward. He wanted her to run, but she couldn't get up fast enough and they lost the precious second that might've allowed them to escape.

The cowboy swung back, and they both froze with fear. Thanks to the light coming through the trailer window, the barrel of his pistol was outlined in silver, and they could see that it had something on the end.

Benita knew what that something was; she'd seen a silencer before. Her brother hadn't always lived the kind >of life he was living now that he'd settled down and had a couple of kids.

"Someone's awake," José said. "They'll see you. You'll get caught if you shoot us. Let us go."

The stranger didn't seem the least bit worried. Chuckling deep in his throat, he tossed his cigarette on the ground and fired so fast Benita didn't realize he'd pulled the trigger until José collapsed. Her husband's hand clenched, dragging her to the ground with him, so the shot intended for her went over her head. But that was all he could do to help. In the next second, he made a funny noise and went still, and she knew the man she loved, the father of her unborn child, was dead.

"You killed him!" she wailed, crouching over his body. "You killed him!"

"Hey, what's going on out there?" A woman had opened the door of the trailer and called out in English. Although Benita couldn't understand her words, she thought the interruption would make the man run away. But it didn't. With a curse, Cowboy brought up his gun and aimed again.

"This oughta teach you spic cockroaches to stay in your own damn country," he ground out, and pulled the trigger.

Benita felt a flash of pain between her eyes. Then she felt nothing at all.

The sun was just beginning to creep over the horizon when Sophia St. Claire brought her cruiser to a skidding halt at the dusty group of drab to not-so-drab trailers a mile outside of town. She'd thrown on her uniform and dashed out of the house as soon as the call came in. But she was too late. The people who lived here had abandoned the comfort of their homes to gawk and were standing in the middle of the crime scene.

Most helpful customer reviews

6 of 6 people found the following review helpful.
Kudos to Brenda Novak--A well told tale
By Tooncesmom
Body Heat is Book 2 in Brenda Novak's new Department 6 series. Set, as was book one, in Arizona's southeastern region, Body Heat tackles a newsworthy problem facing Arizonans today-illegal immigration. The focus of the story, though is of illegal aliens-UDAs who are being murdered after crossing into Arizona.

As the story opens-and it has chillingly been told in the viewpoint of one of the victims-twelve UDAs have been murdered, and it is up to Bordertown's new Chief of Police, Sophia St. Claire, to find the killer. The thirty-year-old Chief turned her life around and went from nearly becoming a Hell's Angels member to a career in law enforcement, but her history uniquely qualifies her to understand the people with whom she works. However, Sophia is short on experience with this type of criminal activity, and the investigation founders with few results until Department 6 ex-SEAL Rod Guerrero is called in to help. Rod goes reluctantly, but he cannot turn his back on his father's plea. Rod's mother was an undocumented alien and Rod is the bastard son of a wealthy Bordertown man. He owes it to his mother and her people to find the killer. However, when Rod arrives in Bordertown, he runs smack into Sophia, the teenage girl who humiliated him many years ago. He has never forgiven her for this and tensions run high on both their parts.

After a rocky start, the two must work together, and they do their best to deny a mutual attraction.
It doesn't help that some members of the town council, a detective from the Sheriff's office and an ex Police Chief want Sophia to fail.

When another murder occurs, they realize the problem is bigger than one man's vengeance.

Ms. Novak has outdone herself with a fast-paced story that is stunning in its scope. Her research is amazing, and the details of the myriad problems facing this portion of the Southwest are convincingly portrayed from the plight of the migrants to the problems faced by ranchers who have their fences cut, their cattle slaughtered, members of their own community murdered, and their lives continually placed in turmoil from the endless waves of human traffic moving across their lands.

But with all this realism, Ms. Novak manages to keep the interaction between Sophia and Rod foremost to keep you cheering for both these protagonists to solve the crime and solve their personal problems.

I won't reveal the ending, just let me say the plot twists will keep you guessing right to the end.

Riveting story Ms. Novak. Brava!

Two thumbs way up!

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
2 ½ stars. Ok for romantic suspense but generic writing. Contrivances and stupidity bothered me.
By Jane
Author used too many bad guys. Police chief Sophia is searching for a serial killer. Early in the story we see Leonard plant bugs in her home, car and office. He uses what he hears against her and causes problems. Next Sophia talks to someone and the reader learns he is also a bad guy who plans to harm her but she doesn’t know it. Other bad guys are added later. It’s a conspiracy of people Sophia trusts or interacts with, and gradually as the story progresses new ones come to light - not the best kind of plot for me.

Examples of contrivance and stupidity. 1. Sophia and Rod escape a dangerous situation but part ways because someone wants to show Rod something. This was an artificial contrivance that was carried on far too long to extend the mystery. The guy could have told Rod about a picture he saw - which was a clue to the killer’s identity. But he took Rod away from Sophia when she was fleeing from killers. The guy makes Rod wait in the car while he soothes his wife who is upset about something. Then they eventually go to a place where he shows Rod the picture. 2. During this separation Rod and Sophia have cell phones but they don’t tell each other what is going on. Sophia almost gets killed and is at the hospital with another victim. She should walk outside the hospital door and call Rod to tell him what happened but she doesn’t because a little boy wants her to stay with him in the waiting room. She says come with me for a minute while I make a call. The boy doesn’t want to so Sophia stays with him and does not make the call. Shootings and murders are happening but she won’t call Rod? 3. Sophia hears gun shots inside a house. She goes inside and finds someone safe. She puts her gun on the bed and goes over to comfort that person. Meanwhile bad guy walks in with his gun. Sophia’s gun is too far away to reach. There was more stupidity.

AUDIOBOOK NARRATOR:
Cris Dukehart was good. But at times her reading of general narration (non-dialogue) was too much like reading. Other narrators read non-dialogue parts with a sense of wonder or curiosity. Hers wasn’t as good. But she was good enough, just not the best. I was pleased that she used a quality microphone screen - so I did not hear her breaths.

DATA:
Narrative mode: 3rd person. Unabridged audiobook length: 11 hrs and 29 mins. Swearing language: none that I recall. Sexual language: mild. Number of sex scenes: 2. Setting: current day Border Town, Arizona. Book copyright: 2010. Genre: romantic suspense.

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
A Sure Bet!
By LAS Reviewer
Novak is a best-selling author, and it's easy to see why from reading this fast-paced suspense set in the heart of illegal immigration territory. Young, petite Sophia St. Claire is an engaging (if nontraditional) police chief, and Roderick Guerrero is a hunky SEAL operative whose presence in Bordertown shakes up everything from the murder investigation to Sophia's own desires. This story features enough interesting characters and sub-plots to keep any reader engaged, though at times the amount of backstory needed to fill in Sophie and Rod's pasts felt a little heavy.

Novak does a compelling job bringing to life a town plagued with illegal immigrants and the lengths to which the citizens will try and prevent them from crossing the border. I always enjoy a story set in a small town, where beauty salons back up to saloons and no one, including the town's most upstanding folk, is quite who or what they seem. There's also no lack of chemistry between Sophia and Rod, who crossed paths as high school students and discover after fifteen years that attraction still runs as deep as ever. I particularly enjoyed the scene where Sophia turns the tables and rescues Rod from a precarious situation. She's a tough chick, no doubt about it, from her tattoo to her Harley, and she stands up for herself and her man even when her job is on the line.

My one criticism of this story is the amount of baggage Sophia and Rod both struggle with. I'm always a little wary of authors who give their main characters every possible emotional difficulty, and I think Novak falls into that trap here. I'd like to enjoy a hero and heroine who are successful because of their pasts, rather than in spite of them.

However, when all is said and done, Body Heat is a fast-paced, enjoyable read. Novak provides plot twists and turns galore, so the reader isn't really sure until the closing pages who's responsible for killing the illegals or who's out to ruin Sophia's job and reputation. The plethora of minor characters - all well developed - will keep you guessing to the end. If you're a fan of romantic suspense, this story set in the hot Southwest will satisfy.

Originally Posted at The Long and Short of It Romance Reviews

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