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Summary
Summary
When divorcee Lynn Nelson, a beautiful single mother, agrees to help chaperone her teenage daughter Rory's wilderness trip, she and Rory become separated from the rest of the group, surrounded by an unknown menace, with only outfitter Jess Feldman standing between them and the mysterious evil.
Author Notes
Karen Robards was born in Louisville, Kentucky on August 24, 1954. She graduated from the University of Kentucky. Her first novel, Island Flame, was published in 1981, when she was 24 years old. Since then, she has written more than 40 contemporary and historical romances including To Love a Man, Sea Fire, One Summer, Irresistible, Whispers at Midnight, Guilty, Shameless, and Sleepwalker. She has received six Silver Pen Awards, two Waldenbooks Wally Awards, one Romantic Times award, a Romantic Times Career Achievement Award, and has been named to the Romantic Times Romance Writers Hall of Fame. She has written a number of series, including The Banning Sisters and Charlotte Stone. Her title's, The Last Kiss Goodbye and Hush made The New York Times best seller list.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Reviews (2)
Publisher's Weekly Review
When divorced Chicago anchorwoman Lynn Nelson, 35, signs on to chaperone high school students on a horseback riding vacation in the Utah mountains, she views it as an opportunity to bond with her increasingly estranged teenage daughter, Rory. In the prolific Robards's latest romantic tall tale (after Hunter's Moon), what Lynn doesn't count on, besides the bruising reality of actually riding horses, is finding love and stumbling on a plot to blow up the world. When Lynn meets hunky outfitter Jess, both immediately feel a strong antipathy that teeters perilously close to attraction. Matters take a melodramatic turn when an accident separates Lynn, Jess and Rory from their group and they happen upon a presumably deserted mining camp where they find themselves plunged into a nightmare. Confronted with a scene of mass murder, pursued by deadly religious cultists, they must depend on one another in order to surviveand to avert global catastrophe, for the cultists plan to detonate nuclear bombs and unleash chemical weapons throughout the world. Perils-of-Pauline chapter endings keep the pages turning, although clichéd characterizationsMarlboro Man Jess, overachieving Lynn, annoying teen Rorymar the whole. It's hard to accept that a contemporary career woman who exclaims "Rats! Curses!" when faced with a problem will play a pivotal role in averting Armageddon. But then, romantic suspense, not suspension of disbelief, has always been Robards's signature, and here, as before, she signs her tale with a flourish. Major ad/promo; author tour. (Jan.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Library Journal Review
"How many more...heaving bosoms must readers endure?" groaned LJ's reviewer of Hunter's Moon (LJ 11/15/95). Not enough, if its appearance on national best sellers lists is any indication. A man and woman are separated from their cohorts during a wilderness trip, with predictable results. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Excerpts
Excerpts
June 19, 1996 3:00 P.M. Are you ready to die? Jess Feldman exchanged glances with his brother, Owen, and tried to sidestep the wild-eyed man who suddenly blocked their path. "I said, are you ready to die?" The man stayed with them, his voice rising an octave. One of a group of sign-carrying marchers in front of Salt Lake City's airport, he was fortyish, balding, wearing a cheap gray polyester suit, a yellowing white shirt, and an ancient-looking black tie. "Bug off," Jess said, not gently, as Owen caught the sleeve of his plaid flannel shirt and dragged him past. "Repent!" The man screamed after them. "The end of the world is at hand!" "Oh, yeah?" Jess tossed back over his shoulder. Owen towed him forward implacably. "When?" "June twenty-third, nineteen ninety-six, sinner! At nine A.M.!" A police car with flashing lights pulled up to the curb. The doomsayer turned away. "Talk about specific," Jess said to his brother. "I wonder what happens to these guys when they make a prediction like that and the world doesn't end on schedule?" Owen shrugged. "Predict again, I guess. Come on, we don't want to be late for the guests. This group's from a swanky girls' school in Chicago, remember." "That's my kind of group," Jess said with a grin. As Owen pulled him through the double doors Jess glanced back. A pair of uniformed cops talked to the marchers. One of their signs drooped his way. Jess read it. REPENT! THE END OF THE WORLD IS AT HAND! Beneath the warning was a blood-red heart, broken in two, with one half toppled over on its side. Under the heart were the words LOVE HEALS. "Bunch of nuts," Jess muttered, shaking his head. Then the glass doors closed behind him and he forgot all about them. June 19, 1996 11:45 P.M. "Someone's out there." Sixteen-year-old Theresa Stewart dropped the edge of the faded yellow gingham curtain and backed away from the window. Her voice was hushed, fearful. Outside, the vast, mountainous wilderness that surrounded the trio of ramshackle cabins had been swallowed up by night. Hidden deep in the folds of Utah's Uinta National Forest, the abandoned mining camp had felt like a sanctuary. More than once Theresa had overheard her father reassure her mother that they were unfindable. Now, for the first time since the Stewarts had moved into the structure eight months ago, there were strangers outside. Moonlight had silhouetted them briefly as they had stepped from the forest into the clearing surrounding the camp. Theresa had seen three of them, possibly more. "Probably a bear." Theresa's mother, Sally, looked up from the rocking chair where she was nursing Elijah, the youngest of the seven Stewart children. Elijah was six months old, a plump, happy baby, and Sally was in the process of weaning him. But she still liked to nurse him just before putting him down for the night. He slept better that way, she said. "Mother, it isn't a bear. I saw men coming out of the woods." "Probably just some campers then. It's summer, you know. We don't have the forest totally to ourselves like we did during the cold weather." Sally sat in front of the fire that was the cabin's only source of warmth as well as illumination. Despite her reassuring words there was an underlying tension in her voice. She, Theresa, and the four youngest children were alone in the cabin. Michael, her husband, had taken the two older boys and gone to Provo to conduct some business and pick up supplies. He would not be back until the following day. "I don't think they're campers." Theresa's voice was hushed as she moved to stand beside her mother. The cabin was small, two rooms on the ground floor with a sleeping loft above. She stood almost in the center of the large front room, which suddenly seemed alive with shadows, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. Terror, raw and primitive, rose like bile in her throat. Theresa didn't know how she knew who was out there. She just knew . "Kyle then. Or maybe Alice, or Marybeth. Or one of the kids needing to use the necessary." Marybeth and Alice were Michael's sisters. Kyle was Alice's husband. They and their eleven children, who ranged in age from eight to eighteen, occupied the other two cabins. Since the camp had been constructed and abandoned in the late 1800's, there was no indoor plumbing. Anyone needing to answer nature's call used a shack near the entrance to the old silver mine that had been converted for just that purpose. Or hied himself off to the woods. "It looked like a man. Men. More than one. They came out of the forest." Theresa's voice cracked. "Are you sure?" Theresa nodded. Sally detached the sleeping baby from her breast and stood, pulling her blouse closed. "Theresa, honey, it can't be them. " "Mother--" A knock on the door interrupted. Theresa and her mother drew closer together instinctively, both staring at the roughhewn wood panel. The baby whimpered, as if sensing their fear. Sally pressed him closer to her breast. Sally knew as well as Theresa did that none of their relatives would ever knock like that. It was a soft knock, so soft it was sinister. "Hush, now," Sally whispered to the baby. Then, handing him to Theresa, she added, "Take him into the back room." The instruction scared Theresa. She realized that her mother, too, felt the evil on the other side of the door. She accepted the baby, clutching him to her bosom, vaguely comforted by his milky smell, the warm weight of him, the feel of his little head brushing against the underside of her chin as he rooted in search of a comfortable position. "Go on," Sally said, giving Theresa a push. "It's probably just some lost campers, but still..." A few steps took Theresa into the tiny dark room that served as their kitchen-cum-storage-room. Turning, she forgot what she was going to say as she watched Sally pick up the doubleheaded ax that stood in a corner of the front room. Clutching Elijah, Theresa backed deep into the shadows as her mother faced the door, hefting the ax. There was a thud, a crash, the shriek of splintered wood and broken hinges as the door was kicked in. Scrambling for cover, holding Elijah close, Theresa heard the sounds of a struggle, her mother's scream. Then she heard a voice, a voice she recognized, a voice straight out of the nightmare she had tried and tried to forget but never could. It was Death's voice, whispering: "It's time." Excerpted from Heartbreaker by Karen Robards All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.