River's End. Rückkehr nach River's End, engl. Ausgabe
(Sprache: Englisch)
#1 New York Times bestselling author Nora Roberts presents a seductively suspenseful tale of one woman s shattered innocence, the terrifying search for truth and a heart s journey toward healing
Olivia s parents were among Hollywood s...
Olivia s parents were among Hollywood s...
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#1 New York Times bestselling author Nora Roberts presents a seductively suspenseful tale of one woman s shattered innocence, the terrifying search for truth and a heart s journey toward healing Olivia s parents were among Hollywood s golden couples until the night a monster came and took her mother away forever. A monster with the face of her father...
Sheltered from the truth, an older Olivia only dimly recalls her night of terror but her recurring nightmares make her realize she must piece together the real story. Now, assisted by Noah Brady, the son of the police detective who found her cowering in her closet so many years before, she may have her chance. Noah wants to reconstruct the night that has become an infamous part of Hollywood history. He also wants to help Olivia and heal the longing in her lonely heart. But once the door to her past is opened, there s no telling what s waiting on the other side. For somewhere, not too far away, the monster walks again...
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OneBeverly Hills, 1979
Olivia was four when the monster came. It shambled into dreams that were not dreams and ripped away with bloody hands the innocence monsters covet most.
On a night in high summer, when the moon was bright and full as a child's heart and the breeze was softly perfumed with roses and jasmine, it stalked into the house to hunt, to slaughter, to leave behind the indifferent dark and the stink of blood.
Nothing was the same after the monster came. The lovely house with its many generous rooms and acres of glossy floors would forever carry the smear of his ghost and the silver-edged echo of Olivia's lost innocence.
Her mother had told her there weren't any monsters. They were only pretend, and her bad dreams only dreams. But the night she saw the monster, heard it, smelled it, her mother couldn't tell her it wasn't real.
And there was no one left to sit on the bed, to stroke her hair and tell her pretty stories until she slipped back into sleep.
Her daddy told the best stories, wonderfully silly ones with pink giraffes and two-headed cows. But he'd gotten sick, and the sickness had made him do bad things and say bad words in a loud, fast voice that wasn't like Daddy's at all. He'd had to go away. Her mother had told her he'd had to go away until he wasn't sick anymore. That's why he could only come to see her sometimes, and Mama or Aunt Jamie or Uncle David had to stay right in the room the whole time.
Once, she'd been allowed to go to Daddy's new house on the beach. Aunt Jamie and Uncle David had taken her, and she'd been fascinated and delighted to watch through the wide glass wall as the waves lifted and fell, to see the water stretch and stretch into forever where it bumped right into the sky.
Then Daddy wanted to take her
... mehr
out on the beach to play, to build sand castles, just the two of them. But her aunt had said no. It wasn't allowed. They'd argued, at first in those low, hissing voices adults never think children can hear. But Olivia had heard and, hearing, had sat by that big window to stare harder and harder at the water. And as the voices got louder, she made herself not hear because they hurt her stomach and made her throat burn.
And she would not hear Daddy call Aunt Jamie bad names, or Uncle David say in a rough voice, Watch your step, Sam. Just watch your step. This isn't going to help you.
Finally, Aunt Jamie had said they had to go and had carried her out to the car. She'd waved over her aunt's shoulder, but Daddy hadn't waved back. He'd just stared, and his hands had stayed in fists at his sides.
She hadn't been allowed to go back to the beach house and watch the waves again.
But it had started before that. Weeks before the beach house, more weeks before the monster came.
It had all happened after the night Daddy had come into her room and awakened her. He'd paced her room, whispering to himself. It was a hard sound, but when she'd stirred in the big bed with its white lace canopy she hadn't been afraid. Because it was Daddy. Even when the moonlight spilled through the windows onto his face, and his face looked mean and his eyes too shiny, he was still her daddy.
Love and excitement had bounced in her heart.
He'd wound up the music box on her dresser, the one with the Blue Fairy from Pinocchio that played "When You Wish upon a Star."
She sat up in bed and smiled sleepily. "Hi, Daddy. Tell me a story."
"I'll tell you a story." He'd turned his head and stared at his daughter, the small bundle of tousled blond hair and big brown eyes. But he'd only seen his own fury. "I'll tell you a goddamn story, Livvy my love. About a beautiful whore who learns how to li
And she would not hear Daddy call Aunt Jamie bad names, or Uncle David say in a rough voice, Watch your step, Sam. Just watch your step. This isn't going to help you.
Finally, Aunt Jamie had said they had to go and had carried her out to the car. She'd waved over her aunt's shoulder, but Daddy hadn't waved back. He'd just stared, and his hands had stayed in fists at his sides.
She hadn't been allowed to go back to the beach house and watch the waves again.
But it had started before that. Weeks before the beach house, more weeks before the monster came.
It had all happened after the night Daddy had come into her room and awakened her. He'd paced her room, whispering to himself. It was a hard sound, but when she'd stirred in the big bed with its white lace canopy she hadn't been afraid. Because it was Daddy. Even when the moonlight spilled through the windows onto his face, and his face looked mean and his eyes too shiny, he was still her daddy.
Love and excitement had bounced in her heart.
He'd wound up the music box on her dresser, the one with the Blue Fairy from Pinocchio that played "When You Wish upon a Star."
She sat up in bed and smiled sleepily. "Hi, Daddy. Tell me a story."
"I'll tell you a story." He'd turned his head and stared at his daughter, the small bundle of tousled blond hair and big brown eyes. But he'd only seen his own fury. "I'll tell you a goddamn story, Livvy my love. About a beautiful whore who learns how to li
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Nora Roberts
Nora Roberts is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than 200 novels. She is also the author of the bestselling In Death series written under the pen name J. D. Robb. There are more than 500 million copies of her books in print.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Nora Roberts
- 2000, 480 Seiten, Masse: 10,4 x 17,1 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: IMPORT
- ISBN-10: 0515127833
- ISBN-13: 9780515127836
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
Praise for River's EndA page-turner. The Washington Post Book World
Roberts keeps the suspense building Her fans will love this book. Chicago Sun-Times
"River's End moves at a frantic pace Great descriptions Heart-stopping encounters between Olivia and the obviously smitten Noah. Chicago Tribune
A plot that delivers both suspense and romance. Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel
Roberts weaves a story like no one else. Denver Rocky Mountain News
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