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Published for the first time in hardcover, here is New York Times bestselling author Iris Johansen’s classic novel of unforgettable romance and unrelenting suspense–a ravishing thriller of a woman with a secret irresistibly drawn into the glittering world of a famous man whose past may be murder….

Taking the stage that evening, Daisy Justine had no idea that she was auditioning for her life. Watching from the darkness beyond the footlights was the world-famous composer Jason Hayes. The reclusive genius was seeking a new star to play the tragic heroine in his latest work, an adaptation of Shakespeare’s Othello.

From the moment he heard her sing, Jason knew he’d found the star he’d been searching for his whole life. But coaxing her from Geneva to the bright lights of Broadway wasn’t going to be easy. For she’d made a promise to another man that she couldn’t break–nor disclose to anyone, not even Jason.

Jason has only two weeks to change Daisy’s mind. But the closer he gets to her, the closer danger comes. For there’s more than just artistic temperament behind Jason’s legendary seclusion. He, too, is harboring a secret, stalked by a killer who’s followed him for decades. Now he’ll do anything to protect Daisy from the greatest threat of all–herself. Daisy’s determined to catch the ruthless sociopath who’ll stop at nothing to ruin their lives. And she’s baiting the trap with the one victim the killer can’t resist.

• Sales Rank: #1691778 in Books
• Published on: 2006-08-08
• Released on: 2006-08-08
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 8.45" h x 1.03" w x 5.79" l,
• Binding: Hardcover
• 240 pages

About the Author
IRIS JOHANSEN, who has more than twenty-five million copies of her books in print, has won many awards for her achievements in writing. The bestselling author of Blind Alley, Firestorm, Fatal Tide, Dead Aim, No One to Trust, Body of Lies, The Search, Final Target, and many others, she lives near Atlanta, Georgia, where she is currently at work on a new novel. Visit the official Iris Johansen web site at www.irisjohansennovels.com

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
One


"Your little discovery can't be that good," Jason Hayes said dryly. "If she was, she'd be in New York or London, not Geneva, Switzerland."

"She's terrific." Eric settled back in his seat and glanced around the theater. It was a small house, but every seat was filled. "You can see how she packs them in."

"It's Les Miserables that packs them in. The music has magic."

"No, I tell you, it's her," Eric protested. "Would I have insisted on bringing you all the way here from New York if I hadn't thought you'd like her? Her voice is spectacular. If you didn't insist on cast approval, I would have tried to sign her up for Desdemona when I heard her last week. She's the best soprano I've ever–"

"Stop." Jason held up his hand. "I've heard it all before."

Eric looked intently at him. "Lord, you're a cynical bastard. That's your problem. You're spoiled rotten and there's nothing you haven't heard or seen. Where's your joie de vivre?"

Jason grinned. "You've got enough for both of us."

"And I'll keep it alive and well until I'm six feet under." Eric's square, boyish face lit with a mischievous smile. "Life's too much fun for me to be tempted into becoming a brooding Rochester like you."

Jason smiled crookedly. "The comparison is certainly apt."

"Damn," Eric muttered. "Hey, I'm sorry. You know what a big mouth I have."

"No offense." Jason glanced down at the program. "Her name is Daisy Justine?"

"Yes," Eric said absently, gazing at Jason. "You're looking tired as hell."

"I'll be all right. I can take a rest now. I finished the changes on the score for the last act right before I stepped on the airplane."

"The score didn't need changes."

"A score can always be made better."

"So speaketh the perfectionist. You work too hard. Peg and I haven't seen you for over eight months."

Jason kept his gaze on the program. "You know why."

"Yeah." Eric frowned, troubled. "But it has to stop. You can't go on like this."

"Why not?" Jason turned the page of the program. "You said I was spoiled rotten."

"I was joking." Eric paused. "You have to do something about it."

Jason knew he was no longer talking about getting more rest. "I've tried."

"I know, but there has to be a way to stop it. You can't protect the whole world."

"I don't protect the whole world." Jason smiled. "Just my corner of it."

"I don't like to see you like this. I remember when–"

"There's no use looking back," Jason said quietly. "And I live a good life. I have everything I want. Money, women, success. Stop thinking of me as a tragic figure."

Eric shook his head. "It's not enough."

No, it wasn't enough, and he should have realized that Eric, who knew him best, wouldn't buy his rationalizations. "I have my work."

Eric nodded. "If you didn't, you'd be crazy by now. Your music is the only thing that means a damn thing to you."

"Not entirely. I have a trifling fondness for you."

"Stop kidding. You're the greatest composer the stage has seen in this century, but there's got to be–"

"Andrew Lloyd Webber wouldn't agree with you."

"The audience and the critics do. Stop arguing with me."

Jason smiled. "I have no intention of doing so. My ego won't permit it."

"But you've become an almost complete recluse. You can't live only for your work."

"Who said? Watch me."

Eric sighed. "Dammit, you're stubborn."

Jason smiled affectionately. "You're the one who's hanging on to the subject, my fine bulldog." His smile faded. "Drop it, Eric."

Eric studied his expression and then nodded reluctantly. "Okay." He lowered his voice as the lights dimmed and the orchestra struck up the overture. "If I can't save you from yourself, at least I can feed your passion by serving Daisy Justine up to you."

Jason chuckled. "You sound like a pimp. I'm not in the market for a new bedmate."

"I wasn't talking about your carnal urges. You go through women like a hay fever victim goes through tissues." Eric grimaced. "That's not your passion, that's only lust."

"And what is my passion, O seer?"

"The songs," Eric said simply. "And the voices who sing them." The curtain was beginning to swing open as he added with satisfaction, "She's going to knock your socks off."

Jason shrugged. "We'll see." He wished he could exhibit more enthusiasm. Hell, Eric was probably right and he was becoming jaded. Maybe the woman was good, but she couldn't be as fantastic as Eric claimed. In spite of Eric's keen business sense that made him a top-notch producer, he was prone to occasional wild lapses in judgment when it came to talent. Well, the least he could do was give her a chance.

He settled back in his seat as the musical began to unfold before his eyes. He had gotten off the plane from New York only three hours earlier and was finding it difficult to stay awake, much less concentrate. As he had said, the music was fantastic, but he had seen the play too many times for it to hold him. For a regional production the set was surprisingly good, the cast, too, but not good enough to merit special attention in this first scene.

"Here she is." Eric grasped his arm as soon as the factory scene started, nodding toward a slim, golden-haired woman in a cornflower-blue peasant gown.

She certainly looked the part of Desdemona, Jason thought objectively. Daisy Justine possessed a riveting stage presence and was truly exquisite. A little above average height, she moved with extraordinary grace. She had generously sized breasts and a roses-and-cream complexion. Her long white-gold hair and delicate features gave her an air of angelic luminosity. Yes, that was the term. She shone as if lit from within.

"See?"

"The only thing I see right now, Eric, is that she looks like Desdemona." And that he was having an undeniable physical response as he looked at her, Jason realized with astonishment. He was dead tired, jet-lagged, and never before been attracted to the ethereal type, yet he could feel an unmistakable stirring in his groin as he looked at the woman.

Eric muttered something beneath his breath.

Then the scene switched to Fantine, racked by despair, kneeling alone on the stage to sing her big solo, "I Dreamed a Dream."

Jason stiffened, and he heard Eric's low chuckle.

Clear golden notes filled with beauty and passion soared through the theater. She lived the song, let it take her, became one with it.

"My God," Jason whispered. He experienced a fierce joy that was close to pain. He was lost, swept away, and for the remainder of the time she was on the stage, he sat transfixed, riveted, his gaze never leaving the luminous figure of Daisy Justine.

When the lights went up at the end of the first act, Eric turned to him. "Well?"

Jason forced his hands to release their grip on the arms of the seat and got to his feet. "Let's get the hell out of here."

"Now? Don't you want to wait and go backstage to see–" Eric broke off as he saw Jason striding up the aisle through the crowd. He got hurriedly to his feet and caught up with him as he reached the lobby. "What the hell is wrong with you? Dammit, I know you liked her."

"Yes." Jason's voice was clipped as he pushed through the crowd.

"Then let's go get her. She's not on again until the last scene."

"We'll wait until the show's over. Let's find someplace to have coffee." Jason welcomed the cool air on his face as he started down the street toward the cafe on the corner. Heaven knew he needed something to clear his head. He felt punch drunk. "What do you know about her?"

"That she sings like an angel and can act to boot."

"What else?"

Eric fell into step with him. "I talked to the director, Hans Keller, and he said she was good-natured, always on time, thoroughly professional. She studied with Stoloni in Milan on a scholarship. She's twenty-four, mother dead, and lives with her father in a cottage in an artists' colony on the outskirts of Geneva. He's an artist."

"Any good?"

Eric shrugged. "Mediocre." He glanced at Jason curiously. "What difference does it make? We're hiring the woman, not her father."

Jason avoided the question. "Why is she playing in a two-bit production when she should be on Broadway?"

"How do I know?" Eric asked with a touch of irritation. "Look, do you approve of her as our first choice for Desdemona or don't you?"

"I approve." Jason opened the door of the cafe and a bell tinkled merrily, announcing their arrival. As a tuxedo-garbed waiter hurried toward them from across the room, Jason muttered, "Do you think I'm an idiot? She's absolutely mesmerizing."

Eric smiled jubilantly as he followed his brother. "Now you're talking. So we sign her tonight?"

Jason gazed blindly at the cozy, damask cloths as he followed the waiter to a table. Eric was right, he was acting weird as hell and he couldn't seem to control it. His reaction to Daisy Justine had been incredibly intense, more intense than Eric could possibly guess.

It was the music, he assured himself. How long had he waited...

From AudioFile
Originally written for the Bantam Loveswept series, this title presents the story of Daisy Justine, a soprano who mesmerizes composer Jason Hayes with her portrayal of Desdemona, the tragic heroine of Shakespeare's OTHELLO. Pamela Dillman deftly portrays Daisy as a soft, quivering bird caught in the talons of an eagle but who miraculously survives, ultimately becoming the mysterious seductress who is willing, despite murder attempts and blazing car crashes, to confront a quintessential psychopath. Dillman portrays Jason as a possessive, lusty, reclusive composer who is as obsessed as Othello. Like Desdemona, Daisy becomes the light to Jason's darkness, drawing Jason out from his Othello mask into a realm of unforgettable romance. K.A.T. © AudioFile 2006, Portland, Maine-- Copyright © AudioFile, Portland, Maine

Most helpful customer reviews

18 of 20 people found the following review helpful.
Did anyone read the publishing date?
By Sally Ingles
I read the other reviews with interest. They all complained about the author's writing style being weak, etc. If they had bothered to check, they would have seen that this was originally published in 1990 as a Loveswept paperback. Loveswepts are not known for their brilliant mysteries, just plenty of brooding romance. This is how Ms. Johansen started her writing career and she's only progressed brilliantly since then. Personally, I'd love to see her return to the Sedikan series in the future, they were some of my favorites of her works.

So quit bellyaching and read this as it was meant - a delicious romance to be consumed in one sitting.

6 of 7 people found the following review helpful.
could have been better
By bijou2311
I usually love Johansen's books, but this one wasn't up to her normal standards in my opinion. The basic story is Daisy, the heroine, is an incredible singer, and is heard by our hero, Jason. Jason decides he must cast her as the lead in his next production, and goes about doing everything he can to sign her. At the same time, he is trying to get her into bed. However, he has a horrible secret from his past that threatens to break up the two.

That is the basic idea, and in my opinion, Jason just wasn't that great of a hero. I have to admit I liked Daisy must more than Jason. Jason was a very alpha male until the treat was revealed and then he turned into a martyr. Daisy was the one who stepped up to the plate and took care of the problem. I like strong heroines, but the hero doesn't have to be a big baby either.

Anyway, my personal opinion is that this book was lacking compared to others written by Johansen. However, it wasn't the worst book I have read.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Not 1 One of Her Best
By Beth Amber
The Loveswept romances are being reissued, so I know they were written a couple of decades ago. Most of the time you don't notice unless they drop references to "Nam". In this one it feels pretty light. Daisy's problems don't seem insurmountable, although you'd never know by how she acts. The climax of the books is pretty lame as well. It's not Iris's worst reissue, but it is certainly not her best. I don't really love the hero, and because the heroine isn't too great either I only finished the book because I had spent money on it. And by George if I spent the money, I'm going to finish the darn thing!

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^ Free Ebook Seduction In Mind, by Susan Johnson

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He could offer her only one thing — a week of intimate pleasure....

Samuel Lennox and Miss Alexandra Ionides cordially invite you to a most provocative game of seduction

It shall last for seven days, during which Lennox, Viscount Ranelagh, will wield his celebrated prowess with the London ladies in an attempt to add Miss Alex’s name to his list of conquests. The infamous list is long, though the duration of each liaison has been brief — and as the viscount will assure anyone, that is precisely how he likes it.

The lady, for her part, an accomplished artist and benefactress of various charities, has no wish to be a mere plaything. Although a week of intimate pleasure with a man of Ranelagh’s legendary skills would be memorable...

As for the other players — irate parents, designing debutantes, a scheming ex-mistress, even a love-struck young man with ideals — all seem intent on meddling. But the viscount is single-minded when it comes to seduction, and Miss Alex is in his sights.

Come see who wins in this amorous game!

• Sales Rank: #2357544 in Books
• Color: Red
• Brand: Johnson, Susan
• Published on: 2001-07-31
• Released on: 2001-07-31
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.90" h x .90" w x 4.15" l, .38 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 352 pages

From Publishers Weekly
Johnson's latest Victorian-era erotic romance (following Tempting) thrills with each turn of the page as two reckless individuals tumble headlong into an explosive relationship. Alexandra Ionides, who occasionally poses as a nude model and also paints, supports her scandalous pastimes with her inheritances from her two deceased husbands. Her lush beauty and unusual lifestyle captivate Samuel Lennox, Viscount Ranelagh, a renowned rogue, lover and high-stakes gambler. Determined to own one of Alex's risque portraits as well as the lady herself, Sam interrupts a sitting with the famous painter Frederic Leighton in order to make his intentions perfectly clear. As a rule, Alex dislikes men of Sam's ilk, and she rejects his advances even though she finds herself fiercely attracted to his self-assured, sexy demeanor. Sam is persistent, however, and, within a matter of days, Alex is lodged in his bed and deep in his heart. Pages sizzle as the two discover that even in the face of scheming ex-lovers, disapproving parents and deeply imbedded fears of commitment, love can triumph. Writing with the same tried-and-true formula of her previous novel, Temporary Mistress, Johnson delivers another fast, titillating read that overflows with sex scenes and rapid-fire dialogue.

Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information, Inc.

From Booklist
Intrigued by a beautiful nude in a painting, Samuel Lennox, the Viscount Ranelagh, traces the canvas to Victorian artist Frederic Leighton's studio, where he discovers the object of his desire is Alexandra Ionides, an occasional model, wealthy widow, and painter herself. Samuel invites Alexandra to join him in a no-strings, sex-only affair, but to his surprise, Alexandra turns him down. Now the renowned libertine and experienced lover must draw upon all of his powers of seduction to convince the lovely Alexandra to let him pleasure her. Held together by a gossamer plot, Johnson's steamy love scenes, which leave nothing to the reader's imagination, become the focus of the book. The sensually charged writing and occasional use of graphic language may rebuff readers looking for more subtlety in their romance novels, but Johnson knows exactly what her devoted readers desire, and she delivers it with her usual flair. John Charles
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

Review
“Johnson's latest Victorian-era erotic romance (following Tempting) thrills with each turn of the page. Johnson delivers another fast, titillating read that overflows with sex scenes and rapid-fire dialogue.”
— Publishers Weekly


Don’t miss any of Susan Johnson’s tantalizing historical novels:

Seduction in Mind
Temporary Mistress
Legendary Lover
A Touch of Sin
Taboo
Wicked
To Please a Lady
Sweet Love, Survive
Brazen
Love Storm
Pure Sin
Seized by Love
Outlaw
Silver Flame
Sinful
Blaze
Forbidden

Available wherever Bantam Books are sold

Most helpful customer reviews

2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
Where's the romance?
By Joyously Retired Teacher
If you're looking for steamy sex, this is the book for you! But in all honesty it should be categorized as erotica rather than romance. The hero is a sex addict and the heroine is little more than one of those "willing widows" who has discreet affairs on the fringes of society. Happy ever after is hard to believe with these two people. A nice cold shower should bring them to their senses... and you'll need one too if you read this book!

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Four Stars
By Rosario
Okay.

19 of 19 people found the following review helpful.
Two steps forward, one step back
By A Customer
This is a difficult book for Susan Johnson devotees. I have read virtually everything by Susan Johnson, and have found that her books typically are either about interesting characters with some good sex thrown in (Temporary Mistress) or about some interesting sex with good characters thrown in (Wicked, Silver Flame).
Seduction in Mind seems to push the boundaries of character development in a romance: while the hero is a typical SJ tall, dark, handsome rake, the heroine is notably different. A twice-widowed artist who occasionally models nude, Alexandra has lovers, suggests the possiblity of bi-sexuality (in one brief statement only, and although the impression is of a comment made in a fit of anger, it is never explained fully nor revisited), and has enough money to do as she pleases. A side plot also depicts sibling incest - great big ICK, but effective as a startling plot development.
The whole book has the feel of SJ reaching towards new boundaries, but still halfway confined to the "typical" romance plot. For instance, while the heroine is a modern woman with lovers, she still blushes furiously at insinuations and has issues with Sam's (the hero) past reputation. Also, her constant agonizing over his reputation borders on hypocritical and naive at times. The sex scenes - Johnson's specialty - are more quantity than quality, particularly if you have read a few of her previous books.
For all the negatives, though, this has some true bright spots. The flashes of humor, the attempt to give romance readers something other than a 17 year old blond virgin as a heroine, the hero who takes the initiative in bringing up babies and marriage...
Bottom line: Johnson has written better, but she's also written much worse, and this seems like a book that's leading the way to a more mature, disciplined writer.

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Emotional Intelligence was an international phenomenon, appearing on the New York Times bestseller list for over a year and selling more than five million copies worldwide. Now, once again, Daniel Goleman has written a groundbreaking synthesis of the latest findings in biology and brain science, revealing that we are “wired to connect” and the surprisingly deep impact of our relationships on every aspect of our lives.

Far more than we are consciously aware, our daily encounters with parents, spouses, bosses, and even strangers shape our brains and affect cells throughout our bodies—down to the level of our genes—for good or ill. In Social Intelligence, Daniel Goleman explores an emerging new science with startling implications for our interpersonal world. Its most fundamental discovery: we are designed for sociability, constantly engaged in a “neural ballet” that connects us brain to brain with those around us.

Our reactions to others, and theirs to us, have a far-reaching biological impact, sending out cascades of hormones that regulate everything from our hearts to our immune systems, making good relationships act like vitamins—and bad relationships like poisons. We can “catch” other people’s emotions the way we catch a cold, and the consequences of isolation or relentless social stress can be life-shortening. Goleman explains the surprising accuracy of first impressions, the basis of charisma and emotional power, the complexity of sexual attraction, and how we detect lies. He describes the “dark side” of social intelligence, from narcissism to Machiavellianism and psychopathy. He also reveals our astonishing capacity for “mindsight,” as well as the tragedy of those, like autistic children, whose mindsight is impaired.

Is there a way to raise our children to be happy? What is the basis of a nourishing marriage? How can business leaders and teachers inspire the best in those they lead and teach? How can groups divided by prejudice and hatred come to live together in peace?

The answers to these questions may not be as elusive as we once thought. And Goleman delivers his most heartening news with powerful conviction: we humans have a built-in bias toward empathy, cooperation, and altruism–provided we develop the social intelligence to nurture these capacities in ourselves and others.


From the Trade Paperback edition.

• Sales Rank: #106816 in Books
• Published on: 2006-09-26
• Released on: 2006-09-26
• Ingredients: Example Ingredients
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 9.49" h x 1.31" w x 6.41" l, 1.50 pounds
• Binding: Hardcover
• 416 pages

From Publishers Weekly
In this companion volume to his bestseller, Emotional Intelligence, Goleman persuasively argues for a new social model of intelligence drawn from the emerging field of social neuroscience. Describing what happens to our brains when we connect with others, Goleman demonstrates how relationships have the power to mold not only human experience but also human biology. In lucid prose he describes from a neurobiological perspective sexual attraction, marriage, parenting, psychopathic behaviors and the group dynamics of teachers and workers. Goleman frames his discussion in a critique of society's creeping disconnection in the age of the iPod, constant digital connectivity and multitasking. Vividly evoking the power of social interaction to influence mood and brain chemistry, Goleman discusses the "toxicity" of insult and unpleasant social experience as he warns of the dangers of self-absorption and poor attention and reveals the positive effects of feel-good neurochemicals that are released in loving relationships and in caregiving. Drawing on numerous studies, Goleman illuminates new theories about attachment, bonding, and the making and remaking of memory as he examines how our brains are wired for altruism, compassion, concern and rapport. The massive audience for Emotional Intelligence will revel in Goleman's latest passionately argued case for the benefits to society of empathetic social attunement. (Oct. 3)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From Scientific American
We all recognize a special capacity that humans have—some more so than others—to connect with others in a deep and direct way. We see this quality expressed by a performer revving a crowd, a doctor healing a patient or a mother putting a child to sleep. To orchestrate these tasks, a person must sense and stimulate the reactions and mood of another. In 1995 Daniel Goleman, a Harvard University–trained psychologist and writer for the New York Times, published Emotional Intelligence, in which he discussed the human ability "to manage our own emotions and inner potential for positive relationships." Now he goes a step further. In Social Intelligence, he enlarges his scope to encompass our human abilities to connect with one another. "We are wired to connect," Goleman says. "Neuroscience has discovered that our brain’s very design makes it sociable, inexorably drawn into an intimate brain-to-brain linkup whenever we engage with another person. That neural bridge lets us affect the brain—and so the body—of everyone we interact with, just as they do us." Each encounter between people primes the emotions. This neurological pas de deux stimulates our nervous systems, affecting hormones, heart rate, circulation, breathing and the immune system. Goleman peppers his discourse with anecdotes to illustrate the power of social intelligence. From the countertop of Rosie Garcia, a multitasking baker in New York’s Grand Central Terminal, to the tantrum-tainted class of a Texas teacher, he shows how social sensitivity and wisdom can profoundly reshape conflicts. In one encounter in Iraq, a quick-witted U.S. commander turned a Muslim mob’s threats into laughter when he ordered his soldiers to kneel, lower rifl es and smile—averting a potentially fatal clash. Goleman deftly discusses relevant neural pathways, including the thalamus and amygdala, which together regulate sensory and arousal stimuli. He speaks of spindle cells, which rapidly process social decisions; of mirror neurons, which sense another’s movements; of dopamine neurons, which react to pleasure-inducing neurotransmitters that flow freely while two lovers gaze. The author’s introductory tour through this emerging research landscape helps readers grasp core concepts of social neuroscience, illustrating abstractions with poignant anecdotes, without excessive jargon. Goleman also explains how such research may influence our lives. Given our socially reactive brains, we must "be wise," he says, and be aware of the ways that our moods influence the biology of each life we touch.

Rick Lipkin

Review
"Passionately argued … lucid."—Publishers Weekly

Most helpful customer reviews

79 of 83 people found the following review helpful.
Being smart in relationships or understanding our neural circuitry
By Brant
This is an easy to read book that will verify what you may have already noticed and couldn't put your finger on. Backed by new and hard science, innumerable studies and experiments, Dr. Goleman weaves a picture of everyday life that is profoundly affected by our natural empathy for other human beings. Dr. Goleman provides a road map for developing social awareness and facility.

Dr. Goleman describes the interdependence of nature and nurture. He discusses our brains' capacity to read and map what is going on within another person. Our social brain is triggered by mirroring neurons that instantaneously and unconsciously align themselves with those we are with. Our genes are designed to express themselves when triggered by a matching external social stimulus. If our parents worry about the future we worry about the future whether or not they said worrisome things out loud, the worry was transmitted unconsciously. Most of what we know about interacting with others is learned. So according to Dr. Goleman what you may not have learned when younger can be learned. This book makes it possible to see the world of human relationships as a field of new possibilities and gives us a lot to ponder about the state of our culture and what we might do about it and ourselves.

"How to Create Magical Relationships", written by Ariel and Shya Kane, is a great companion book to "Social Intelligence". This book is very down to earth with stories and examples of how people's lives and relationships have transformed. They offer a living example of social intelligence and ignite the possibility of everyone having magical relationships. The Kanes value living in the present with non-judgmental awareness. Their style and delivery are very practical. Using real world examples and illustrations from their own experience, they make a life filled with excellence, well being, and passion a vivid possibility for everyone.

197 of 227 people found the following review helpful.
A Textbook on Human Communication
By Lissa Coffey, Host of coffeytalk.com
I am a huge fan of Daniel Goleman. He's the bestselling author who coined the term "Emotional Intelligence" with his 1995 book of the same name. Now he's got a new book, "Social Intelligence: The New Science of Human Relationships." Social intelligence is the ability to read other people's cues and then act on them. Life is all about relationships, and there is a science to how we relate to each other. It's fascinating to see how Goleman breaks down each aspect of communication. We can learn how to more effectively express ourselves so that we feel understood. And we can learn how to better "read" other people so that we can better understand. This helps to improve our interactions and ultimately strengthen our relationships. He talks about "synchrony" or interacting smoothly at the nonverbal level, which is an important, yet often overlooked, part of relating. Goleman also scientifically explains "the capacity for joy" and how that affects our social intelligence. He shows how our resilience plays an important role in our happiness, which comes into play as we express ourselves to others.

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
Researched-based exploration of how we connect with the social world
By Elina
Easy to read, grounded on evidence-based research, covering topics from attachment theory to tolerance issues. Great book for those interested in understanding why and how we shape the social world around us.

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^ Download PDF If There Be Dragons, by Kay Hooper

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New York Times bestselling author Kay Hooper weaves seduction, suspense, and the paranormal into a spellbinding romance centered on an enigmatic woman—and the man whose touch threatened to expose her most intimate vulnerabilities.

What was a woman like Brooke Kennedy doing running a guest lodge alone in the Montana wilderness? And why was her best friend so worried about her? Those were the questions Cody Nash asked himself after agreeing to cancel his tropical vacation to go on a mission of mercy into blizzard country. For the strong and self-assured woman he found didn’t need or want his help—but she was in trouble. Brooke had isolated herself from the world for reasons she wouldn’t or couldn’t say. But Cody didn’t need to be a psychic to sense that Brooke was afraid. Even more, her fear had intensified from the moment he arrived. Now, as a dangerous storm strands them together, Cody must learn the well-guarded secret of this beautiful, gifted woman—if he can convince her to give him the one thing he needs to save her from a self-imposed exile: her trust.

• Sales Rank: #250874 in Books
• Published on: 2008-08-26
• Released on: 2008-08-26
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.87" h x .77" w x 4.16" l,
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 288 pages

Features

• ISBN13: 9780553590500
• Condition: New
• Notes: BRAND NEW FROM PUBLISHER! 100% Satisfaction Guarantee. Tracking provided on most orders. Buy with Confidence! Millions of books sold!

About the Author
Kay Hooper, who has more than six million copies of her books in print worldwide, has won numerous awards and high praise for her novels. Kay lives in North Carolina, where she is currently working on her next novel.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter One



There was no answer at the front door. Cody shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his thickly quilted jacket and stepped back from the door, casting a hostile glance out over what would probably be a breathtaking view during daylight. At the moment he could only dimly discern the hulking and intimidating mountains looming all around the tiny valley.

Montana, he was thinking in disgust, and in the middle of winter too. He swore softly, moving out to the edge of the rustic redwood deck that pretended to be a front porch. The durable Jeep that had brought him with relative safety up the winding and icy road to this valley was making soft popping and crackling noises as its hot engine cooled down rapidly in the frigid air. Only those sounds and an occasional whine from the wind high above disturbed the silence.

Cody took care in stepping off the deck, avoiding the two shallow steps, which, he'd discovered only moments before, were slippery. He stood for a moment in the trampled snow that formed a rough walkway, staring at the rented Jeep and then looking around quickly for any sign of a garage. Another building off to one side attracted his attention, and he made his way in that direction cautiously, silently cursing his lack of forethought in not having worn thick boots; his ankle boots just didn't allow for nearly a foot of snow.

He glanced back at the lodge once, trying for the third time to gain some impression of size or style, but was defeated again. The tall trees surrounding the building shadowed it too heavily to offer even a dim silhouette. It was big, though; that much he was sure of. And not a light showed anywhere.

He located a window in the side of the fairly large outbuilding and brushed snow away from the shallow sill, cupping his hands around his eyes and leaning closer for a look inside. The interior was dim, but he felt his brows raise slightly as he identified the hulking shape of a Sno-Cat on the far side. Nearer, he could barely make out a Jeep very like his own but with a more battered appearance.

Cody let his arms drop and backed away from the window, stumbling over rocks bordering a narrow trodden path. Regaining his balance and absently watching his quiet curses assume a misty shape in the cold air, he began to follow the path that led between the garage and the lodge around to the back.

Where the hell was the woman anyway? Cody wondered. He was sure that Pepper had let her friend know that he was coming; she wasn't the type to forget to do something like that. He swore again. If Brooke Kennedy was so damn hostile that she wouldn't even show him a welcoming light or open a door to him, the hell with it!

"Be patient with her, Cody—she's had a rough time."

Pepper's last worried words to him surfaced in his mind, and Cody forced himself to calm down. But, he told himself firmly, if you can't find her, you can hardly help her. The thought cheered him slightly. Maybe she'd gone away for a while. He could take that cruise after all.

As he was rounding a dark corner something hit him squarely in the stomach, driving all the breath out of him in an astonished whoosh, and he folded up neatly before measuring his length backward in the snow.

He lay there for a moment, staring up at the stars and trying to remember if breathing was a voluntary or involuntary action. Voluntary? Maybe he'd better try.

The stars winked out for a second as his paralyzed diaphragm resisted his efforts, then Cody found himself drawing the cold night air into his lungs in relieved gasps. He just lay there and breathed for a moment, then was about to try and get up when a voice reached him out of the darkness.

"Don't move unless you want to hit the ground again. Tell me who you are and what you're doing here."

It was a husky, oddly gruff little voice, unmistakably feminine. And if there was any fear in the warning tone, it was strictly controlled.

The discomfort of lying in the freezing snow and the ache in his middle did nothing to improve Cody's already sour temper. "What the hell did you hit me with?" he demanded, irritated by the wheeze in his voice.

"My feet." It was still a gruff little voice, possessing a faint southern drawl and still containing a warning note. "Shall I demonstrate again?"

Instead of obeying the tone, Cody made a determined effort to gain his feet. "Now, look," he began, and broke off abruptly as he found himself once more sitting in the snow, his feet neatly cut from under him.

"Who are you?" she demanded, still nothing more than a voice out of the darkness.

If his good sense had prevailed, Cody would have sat meekly in the snow and explained who he was. But the culmination of a rough drive up here, a hostile welcome that had painfully deprived him of breath, and the current freezing of his nether regions lost him the battle between good sense and recklessness. He surged to his feet, attempting a feint sideways to avoid her obviously skilled defenses.

It wasn't her fault that he misjudged the slippery path and the angle of his dodge, both of which caused his left foot to slide violently to one side and bang painfully against the stone corner of the building. The violence behind that slide also twisted his ankle in a motion it rebelled against, and Cody sank back down on the path with a bitten-off groan as red-hot pain sliced all the way up to his skull.

At least the woman was still and silent, not laughing at him, he thought bitterly. He nursed the injured ankle with both hands and directed his gaze into the blackness out of which her voice had come. "My name is Cody Nash," he told her flatly through gritted teeth. "And if you're Brooke Kennedy, I've come to help you."

There was a moment of silence, then she said calmly, "If that's so, you're a day early; you weren't supposed to arrive until tomorrow."

Cody held on to his ankle and his temper with both hands. "I was warned in Butte that a storm was coming later tonight and advised to get up here while I still could. Satisfied?" he finished coldly.

She apparently wasn't. "Who sent you?"

His exasperated sigh misted in front of his eyes. "Pepper sent me. Right now she's back in Maine with an anxious husband, two dogs, a cat, and possible twins—and, if you ask me, worrying unnecessarily about a friend who can obviously take care of herself!"

A patch of darkness disconnected itself from the rest to kneel in front of him, and Cody cautiously studied the hooded form he could barely make out.

"How's the ankle?" she asked, no hint of apology in her tone.

"Sprained at the very least," he told her bitterly.

She offered a gloved hand. "I'll help you inside."

"Don't put yourself out," he advised with awful politeness.

The hooded form rose abruptly to its feet. "If you want to sit there on your bruised ego and freeze," she told him evenly, "then do it. I'll be sure someone digs you out in the spring."

An angry stab from his ankle and growing numbness made Cody decide to ignore his injured pride. Sighing, he held out a hand. "Sorry," he apologized ironically. "I get this way whenever I'm kicked in the stomach with no warning."

Silently she helped him to his one good foot, her arm going immediately around his waist to steady him on the slippery path. Throwing away the last of his pride, Cody let himself lean on her, his arm around her shoulders. She was strong, which surprised him since the form he was leaning on felt slender to the point of frailness even through her thick coat. She also moved with a cat-footed sureness along the icy path, even with his dot-and-carry movements beside her.

She guided him on around the building to a door that opened—thankfully—directly out onto a flat cement walkway. The door was opened swiftly and he was led inside to find a large and old-fashioned kitchen, its light due entirely to the blazing fire in the huge stone fireplace.

Cody eased himself down in a ladder-back chair by the round oak table, straining his eyes in the dimness to watch her cross the room to a counter. "You like darkness?" he asked.

There was the scrape of a match and then a flickering flame as she lit a large kerosene lantern on the counter. "Power's out," she told him briefly. "And so's the generator. Ice storm yesterday. That's why it was so slippery outside."

She certainly didn't waste words, he thought dryly. A box of matches slid across the table to_ward him, and before he could catch more than a glimpse of her still-hooded form, she was carrying her lighted lamp toward a second doorway.

"There's another lamp on the table. I'll go find the first-aid box."

Being careful with his throbbing ankle, Cody unfastened his jacket and shrugged out of it, hanging it on the back of another chair nearby. He found the matches and the lantern, even larger than the one she'd lit, trimming the wick and lighting it until the room was fairly bright.

He looked around at the spotless kitchen, the copper pots and pans hanging around a central work island, the colorful Navaho rugs and curtains. With light it was now a cheery room, and the warmth from the fire was beginning to seep into his frozen bones. Cody bent to remove his left boot, grimacing with every movement of the hot, swollen ankle.

Morosely he thought of the sunny cruise he should have been on, making a mental note to get even with Pepper before either of them was much older. He sat back in the surprisingly comfortable chair, listening to the crackle of the fire and the silence and wondering how soon he'd be able to attempt the drive back down. If the storm held off, he decided, he'd try tomorrow—ankle or no ankle. He wasn't about to hang around and try to help th...

Most helpful customer reviews

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Couldn't finish it. Snoozer
By Amazon Customer
I love the Bishop series, so I thought I would give this one a chance. Couldn't finish it, kept falling asleep. No action. The instant "love connection"??? Frankly, if I met a man who professed to being in love with me 5 minutes after we met, I would run like my pants were on fire to get away from him. I completely gave up on it when the wounded wolf entered the story.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Poor Read
By Vonne
This was one of Kay Hoopers worse books. I have read many of her books and enjoyed all of them except this one. No plot, slow and very boring. If I had it to do over again I would not waste my time or money.

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
Outstanding
By K. Lininger
Kay Hooper does it again with a book out of the norm and the suspense is high... Cassie Neill has a power that she isn't too pleased to have. She inherited from her mother and her mother's mother before her etc. She can enter the mind of a madman and help the police to catch him. Cassie is a psychic. After a horrible experience in Los Angeles she moves several hundred miles away to Ryan's Bluff. A nice peaceful and small town. Suddenly her world is turned upside down again. There's a killer out there and she knows what he's doing. She puts her life on the line again to help a cynical cop and a believing district attorney to solve this case. This could be her last case because when she enters the mind of a madman she may not be able to get out.

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# Download PDF The Fifth Quadrant, by C.J. Ryan

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In the 33rd century, unbridled pleasure and unparalleled peace make the world go round—under the watch of a vast corporate order that includes living goddess Gloria VanDeen, a powerful player as gutsy as she is gorgeous.

More popular and more ambitious than ever, Gloria is entertaining two tempting offers: to become Empress, or to rise through the ranks of the Department of Extraterrestrial Affairs and take out some bad guys along the way—if they don’t get her first….

When someone takes a potshot at Gloria with a weapon unseen since the Empire’s last great war, it’s clear that success won’t come without a price. For among power brokers, warriors,and rebels lies a dirty secret that could crack the Empire wide open. And Gloria is determined to get to the bottom of it—even if it means going to the top.

• Sales Rank: #2054298 in Books
• Published on: 2006-09-26
• Released on: 2006-09-26
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.80" h x 1.20" w x 4.20" l, .46 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 416 pages

About the Author
C.J. Ryan is the pseudonym of an author who lives and works in Philadelphia. This is his third science fiction novel.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter One


The light of the two suns beat down on the baking streets of Cartago like a curse. One of them was small, blue, and hot; the other was fat, red, and less hot. They were separated in the sky by about the width of a fist held at arm's length, and Cartago whirled endlessly about a point somewhere between the two blazing orbs. In the streets they cast twin shadows, which angled away from one another slightly, as if reluctant to admit they knew each other.

Gloria VanDeen followed her host and his entourage through the swarming streets, enjoying the color and bustle and the singsong entreaties of the bazaar merchants. Exotic, fantailed phoenixbirds could be hers for only ten crowns, or perhaps even seven. Silken scarves and golden bangles and cotton caftans of the highest quality would only enhance her astonishing beauty, and at a price so low she would feel guilty for taking such advantage of the poor but honest merchants of Cartago; but the honor of being permitted to offer garments and jewelry to grace the famous form of Gloria VanDeen would more than offset the financial loss. The most beautiful woman in all the Empire surely deserved no less than the finest craftsmanship and artistry in the entire Sector–nay, the entire Quadrant!

"I would buy you something as a souvenir," Praetor Ulmani said to her, "but that would surely cause a riot. The merchant whose wares you wore would become insufferable, and his competition, unable to bear their shame, would doubtless kill him."

"Then I suppose it's best that I wear nothing," Gloria said with a smile. "I wouldn't want to be responsible for a tragedy."

"Spirit forbid it!" Ulmani grinned at her. Since nothing–or very nearly nothing–was precisely what Gloria was wearing, the comment seemed apt. Her soft, flowing, nearly transparent garment rested lightly on her shoulders and descended in narrow vees of sheer white fabric, front and rear, shielding her from the suns but not from the hungry eyes that surrounded her.

Honestly, there were times when being Gloria VanDeen was just so damn much fun that it should have been illegal. Gloria smiled and waved happily to the throng in the streets, then let Ulmani take her elbow and usher her along.

The people of Cartago, like their Praetor, had many reasons to be grateful to Gloria VanDeen, and Gloria was aware that her beauty and sexual presence were prominent among them. Without those attributes, it was doubtful that she would have been able to fulfill the mission that had brought her here.

On this, the thirteenth day of January in the year 3218, Standard Calendar–just three days after her twenty-fifth birthday–Gloria VanDeen was the most famous, popular, and (quite possibly) important woman in an empire that spanned a sphere of space two thousand light-years in diameter and was home to some 3 trillion sentient beings. The fact that she was the former wife of the man who was now Emperor Charles V was of some importance, as was her position as head of the Office of Strategic Intervention–the newest action arm of the Department of Extraterrestrial Affairs, the sprawling bureaucracy that administered the Terran Empire. Alone, either one of those facts would have made her a woman of some consequence; together, they made her a potent force. But it was her beauty, brilliance, and courage that had won the hearts of the masses and made her, as was often said, the Sweetheart of the Empire.

At moments like this, Gloria was outrageously happy to be exactly who and what she was. She had just brought her mission on Cartago to a triumphant conclusion. And for a change, the intervention had been brief, bloodless, and relatively simple.

Cartago was a thirsty world, where a small population of some 5 million lived on the margins of a globe-girdling desert. Just 194 light-years from Earth, the planet had been settled some eight hundred years earlier in pre-Imperial days. In later years, it probably never would have been colonized at all, but in that first era of interstellar expansion, Earthmen were not very particular in their choice of new worlds. If a planet had oxygen in its atmosphere and a mean surface temperature somewhere between the freezing and boiling points of water, it was a candidate for settlement. Cartago qualified, if only just.

Over the centuries, the slowly growing population had splintered into what amounted to tribal groups, although the ethnic, cultural, and religious orientations of the three main tribes differed little. The only differences of real consequence concerned water and access to it. The Mountain Tribe controlled the flow of the precious liquid that trickled down to the dusty plains and the lands of the Eastern and Western Tribes. Accordingly, the Mountain Tribe had always selected the Praetor who headed the planetary government, such as it was. The coming of the Empire had remarkably little impact on Cartago, and generations of Imperial Governors and Dexta bureaucrats were content to let the natives work things out for themselves.

In recent years, however, the elders of the Eastern and Western Tribes had–for Spirit knew what bizarre reasons–taken to sending their brightest sons and daughters back to Earth to be educated in the law. Having nothing better to do when they returned to their homeworld, the young barristers began suing the other tribes over the only thing that mattered on their world–water. Thus, there had been angry protests, boycotts, insults, threats, and finally, the sequestration of water that had once flowed freely from the slopes of the central mountains. The Imperial Governor had been unable to persuade anyone to see the light of reason, and the tiny Dexta establishment on the planet had thrown up its arms in despair.

So Norman Mingus had sent Gloria to Cartago.

A year and a half earlier, before the creation of the OSI, Gloria–then a Level XIII Dexta bureaucrat–had used her wit and wiles to attract a thousand volunteers on the planet Pecos to help her avert a genocide on the backwater world of Mynjhino. Dexta Secretary Norman Mingus, taking note of her success, had recognized the extraordinary power she possessed and sought to employ it on a regular basis by appointing her to lead the new Office of Strategic Intervention. He had planned to use Gloria as his chessboard queen, dispatching her hither and yon throughout the Empire to hot spots where the existing bureaucratic machinery was failing to respond adequately to the challenges of the moment. In the year since the formation of the OSI, Gloria had only burnished her already gleaming reputation as the sexiest and most desirable woman in the Empire–and, in the process, had achieved some remarkable results for the benefit of Dexta and the Empire it served. She was wildly popular in every corner of the Empire–except, perhaps, for the Imperial Household itself, where Charles had yet to reconcile himself to the new role being played by the woman who had walked out on him nearly seven years earlier.

Cartago was the fifth intervention for Gloria and OSI, and by far, the easiest. Gloria hadn't even bothered to take along any staff; Cartago was just two days away from Earth via Flyer, and so help was relatively close at hand should any prove necessary.

None did. In less than two weeks on the planet, she had met with a handful of young lawyers, a clutch of tribal elders, and Praetor Ulmani, adroitly resolving their conflicts through a combination of judicious bribes and personal persuasion. The Dexta Comptroller would probably grumble about the bribes, small though they were, but Gloria had thoroughly enjoyed her sojourn on Cartago.

In fact, resolving the conflicts on Cartago had been so easy that Gloria seriously wondered if the whole mess had been cooked up by the young lawyers simply to lure her to their world. Probably not, she conceded; on a desert world, no one played games with water. Still, her fame and reputation had reached the point that she had to beware the Heisenberg Effect; her mere presence was enough to alter the terms of any equation.

At the moment, her presence in the streets of Cartago was altering the normal routine of the bazaar at searing midday, when energy levels and activity normally reached low ebb. Praetor Ulmani kept his grip on Gloria's elbow while his entourage of aides and security men plowed a path through the increasingly excited crowds. They could have taken an air-conditioned limo skimmer directly to the restaurant, but Ulmani had calculated that it could not hurt his popularity to be seen escorting Gloria through the teeming streets of his city. And Gloria didn't really mind being paraded as if she were one of Ulmani's hunting trophies; she was willing to let him get whatever political mileage he could out of the affair. He was a nice enough man and probably as good a leader as the planet needed. She was content to let him have his moment; all that really mattered to Gloria was that she had solved Cartago's problems and would soon be returning to Earth.

The outdoor restaurant was just ahead. Security men were already clearing a path while the maître d' stood before a large table in eager, fawning anticipation. Gloria impulsively decided to give everyone–not least of all Ulmani–one last reason to cheer. She turned to face Ulmani, pulled him close, and gave him an incendiary kiss. The cheers were deafening. Gloria released her hold on the astonished Praetor and grinned at him. "Your people adore you," she said.

"After this," Ulmani replied, "they may start worshipping me!"

They made their way through the wrought-iron gateway that delineated the restaurant, greeted the proprietor, and moved to the reserved table. One of Ulmani's aides pulled out a chair for her, and Gloria had just bent to be seated when the blue-green bolt of plasma crackled through the air just above her. The characteristic plasma thunderclap follow...

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2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
Okay, but...
By Amazon Customer
I love DEXTA, GLORIOUS TREASON and BURDENS OF EMPIRE. But this, the third book in the DEXTA series was horrible. I felt the need to shower after I finished this book.

The major draw to this series is that Gloria is a woman in a high pressure position in a bureaucracy that allows the use of physical, mental, emotional and sexual abuse. Glory is seen as having overcome the odds and circumvented the system, by being herself. She goes for what she wants and she typically gets it. The thing about Gloria is that she is an amazing woman who is remarkably intelligent, aware of and unafraid of her sexuality, and willing to do what it takes to right the wrongs that are done to those she cares for. All of that boiling down to Gloria ALWAYS getting the bad guy.

In Fifth Quadrant we are introduced to a Dexta higher up (Level IV to those in the know) who, along with a cohort, essentially rapes Gloria. Bad enough, but the DEXTA books are designed, by accident or intent, to desensitize the reader to sexual acts; so with the expectation that Gloria will later confront the baddie, tell him to stick it where the sun don't shine and then proceed to do it for him, causing "it" to be permanently lodged in his rectum just after uncovering some nefarious deed that will have him transported to a high gravity prison world faster than you can say Avatar of Joy the reader is able to continue reading. However, in this case the bad guy is allowed to go free. This goes against superheroine, crime solver protocol and is likely to blindside the reader, leading to intense applications of Irish Spring world wide.

This installation in the DEXTA series was too negative for enjoyment. This series typically leaves me feeling that the world ultimately works itself out in the end. This one left me with a queasy feeling in my belly while I tested the water to see if it was hot enough.

2 of 6 people found the following review helpful.
erotic fun filled futuristic science fiction thriller
By A Customer
In the thirty-third century, Gloria Vandeen is the most beautiful and popular woman in the Empire. The intelligent female heads the Department of Extraterrestrial Affairs, Office of Strategic Affairs. The leaders of the four quadrants that make up DEXTA are determined to shut down Gloria and her cell, but she is resolute planning to defeat them at their game. Her ex-husband the Emperor Charles V needs an heir and wants to remarry her so that he can have her and children.

Gloria investigates the recent use of plasma weapons in Quadrant Four that are traced to a shipment of armaments that were shipped there decades ago in anticipation of the onset of a war with the Ch'ignith. Obviously the weapons never made it there and are being used on the planet New Cambride where a DEXTRA conference is convened. Intelligence reports that there is a high degree of certainty that a plasma bomb is on the planet with a capability of eradicating the entire world. Gloria and her team take the threat seriously as they search to find the weapon of mass destruction to disable it before the catastrophe occurs.

Gloria is an intelligent sexy woman who in her offbeat charming manner defuses many crisis on various planets before they go into hostile overdrive. She uses her perfect looks as a weapon to fool her enemies who assume she is a dingbat even though she always gets what she wants mostly with out of the box logic and solutions. THE FIFTH QUADRANT is an erotic fun filled futuristic science fiction thriller that takes readers on an epic adventure guided by a delightful one-of-a-kind heroine.

Harriet Klausner

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• Published on: 1996-09-01
• Format: Import
• Binding: Unbound

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#1 New York Times bestselling author Tami Hoag tells a powerful story of love and surrender in this classic novel about a young woman determined to save the world on her own, and the man who may help her save herself.

Lynn Shaw knows teenage rebellion all too well. And she knows the damage it can leave in its wake. She hadn’t been able to spare herself those growing pains, but as a counselor she’s determined to help the troubled girls of Horizon House, girls who need love—not publicity. But when unfriendly locals protest the residence, they draw the attention of the state senator—a movie-star-handsome man Lynn assumes is merely interested in a photo op.

But helping Lynn is what Erik Gunther is interested in. And Lynn doesn’t buy it for a second. Not even when he takes up her cause as his own. Not even when their mutual attraction becomes undeniable. But for the sake of the girls, Lynn will have to let down her defenses. Easier said than done, as a private war against her past demons rages on. A battle with an army of one, until now.

• Sales Rank: #1064611 in Books
• Brand: Brand: Bantam
• Published on: 2008-12-30
• Released on: 2008-12-30
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 6.89" h x .77" w x 4.15" l, .30 pounds
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 288 pages

Features

• Great product!

About the Author
Tami Hoag's novels have appeared regularly on national bestseller lists since the publication of her first book in 1988. She lives in Los Angeles.


From the Hardcover edition.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter One


"What we need is a white knight." Lillian Johnson looked up toward the big house, worry creasing her forehead above the rims of her glasses. She stood stiffly at the nose of her Volvo, slender shoulders set as if to take a blow, the summer evening breeze just teasing the ends of silver hair cut in a sleek pageboy. In her blouse with the Peter Pan collar and pleated skirt, she looked like a librarian about to be set upon by a mob of book-burning fanatics.

The sidewalk in front of the house was crowded with unhappy people, neighbors who were not inclined to feel neighborly toward the new folks on the block. Many were holding hand-lettered signs aloft. No Delinquents! Runaways Go Home! Citizens for Family Neighborhoods. A news crew from the local television station was capturing the action on videotape.

Lynn Shaw frowned as a breeze caught at strands of her long black hair and whipped them across her face. She raked them back with one hand, green eyes fixed on the crowd. "There's no such thing as white knights." She leaned down into the trunk of her middle-aged Buick and emerged with a box of kitchen utensils cradled in her arms. "Besides, I'll be damned if I'm waiting around for some man to come and save me."

Leaving her friend and employer behind, she stepped up onto the boulevard and started toward the house with a determined stride. She was a counselor, after all. She knew how to handle people. She had the skills to defuse the situation–provided she didn't lose her temper. Of course, there was an ever-present danger of her losing her temper these days.

The relocation of Horizon House should have been simple. Call a moving van, pack a few boxes, change the letterhead on the stationery. The home had been in its former location for three years without incident. Lynn doubted if most of the citizens of Rochester, Minnesota, had had any idea it existed until the building that housed Horizon's residents had been scheduled for demolition to make room for a new hotel. And the Horizon staff might have pulled off the move to this nondescript house with the neighbors going on in self-absorbed, quiet bliss if it hadn't been for one pompous, ill-informed, obnoxious man.

"We don't want you here!"

He materialized in front of Lynn as if her thoughts had conjured him up. Elliot Graham. A man who looked so normal, so ordinary, he might have been a mailman or a dermatologist. He stood before her, a man of average height, average build, average brown hair neatly combed. His face was an average face, unremarkable in every way except one–he had the eyes of a fanatic.

He looked self-important and self-righteous in his charcoal slacks, white shirt, burgundy tie. The epitome of the well-dressed protestor. Lynn caught a whiff of woodsy aftershave and knew instantly who had called the news crew. They were too late for the six o'clock news, but Elliot would look just as spiffy at ten. She, on the other hand, would look like a street person in her old jeans and faded T-shirt.

She closed her eyes briefly against the warning flash of pain in her right temple. As she opened them again a cameraman stepped into her line of vision, a minion behind him raising a blinding white spotlight on a long pole. Lynn flinched from the light as a reporter stepped up to her, microphone in hand.

"What do you have to say about community resentment against this move?"

"We don't want this institution in our neighborhood," Elliot Graham said emphatically, butting in front of Lynn.

"St. Stephen's Church has graciously donated the use of this house to Horizon, Mr. Graham," Lynn said, edging her way back in front of him, her hold on her temper slipping as the pain level of her headache escalated. "We intend to move in with or without your permission."

"We'll see about that."

The look on Graham's face was entirely too smug, too confident. He had an ace in the hole. Lynn braced herself mentally as she waited for him to produce it. Graham's teenage son, a budding right-wing extremist in an outfit that nearly matched his father's, stepped up and handed Graham a manila file folder from which he produced a sheaf of papers.

"Citizens for Family Neighborhoods has circulated a petition against relocating Horizon House to this property. I intend to present it to Father Bartholomew tomorrow morning. A copy will also be delivered to the bishop in Winona. We have over eight hundred signatures. . . ."

The rest of his soliloquy about quality of life and moral standards was lost on Lynn as she fought to contain her anger. Citizens for Family Neighborhoods. Good God-fearing people just trying to do what was right. She wanted to rail at them, shake them, somehow make them see that what they were doing wasn't right at all. They had no reason to fear the residents of Horizon House. Her girls weren't hardened criminals. They were just kids who needed a break, kids who needed love and understanding and acceptance.

It was clear they wouldn't find acceptance in this neighborhood, thanks to Elliot Graham and his band of vigilantes. After all the furor about their move, Lynn doubted they would find acceptance anyplace in Rochester. And there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing she could say would change their minds. In her experience, the voice of reason and truth was seldom heard above the shouts of alarmists. Her sense of impotence lodged like a hot rock behind her breastbone and her counseling skills deserted her altogether as her emotions rushed to the fore.

"You talk a good game about morals, Mr. Graham, but you don't seem to know the first thing about kindness or charity," she snapped, the tide of passion and pain rising together and bringing a sheen of tears to blur her vision. "Do you know what you are, Mr. Graham? You're nothing but a petty, pompous–"

The news crew turned abruptly away. With the absence of light came the easing of the sword of pain, replaced by blessed cool relief. She almost collapsed as rigid muscles relaxed automatically, but her indignation held her upright. She might have finished telling Elliot Graham what she thought of him, but he had whirled away from her. Irritation pulled her brows low over her eyes. The jerk didn't even have the decency to pay attention while she told him off!

She turned to see what had so captured everyone's attention and was immediately struck in the face once again with the death strobe. Then someone stepped in front of it, blocking the worst of the light–a tall man dressed in white. The light glowed in a golden halo around his head and illuminated a pair of shoulders that belonged on a lumberjack. The effect was reminiscent of the way Hollywood portrayed holy visions. Lynn half expected to see Christ himself walk out of that aura, or Lillian's mythical white knight, Galahad come to rescue them. Fat chance.

The light shifted, coming around to illuminate his face as the news crew adjusted their positions, dancing around him like fawning spaniels. Lynn's heart did an involuntary little jump in her chest. Galahad, indeed.

State Senator Erik Gunther. Golden boy of the Democrats. Thirty-three and charming, destined for greatness, according to the media. Lynn fought a wry smile as she took in the movie-star looks of Senator Gunther, ignoring her body's physical responses to the man with the ease of long practice. She didn't have time for relationships, and she certainly had more sense than to go looking for one with a politician.

Erik Gunther might have been easy to look at, with his strong square face and dreamy blue eyes, and his boyish smile might have been enough to win the vote of every female in his district, but looks didn't make the politician. What made men like Erik Gunther was a thirst for power, a hunger for success, a drive and ambition that left room for little else. No, even if she had been interested–and she wasn't–she wouldn't have touched Erik Gunther with a ten-foot pole. She had endured enough strained and broken relationships to last her a lifetime. No sense going hunting for one.

That he wasn't here looking for a date was a cinch, anyway. He was here to get himself a cameo spot on the late news. Lynn conceded that he had a record for backing causes, but she knew how that worked. The depth of a politician's caring was in direct proportion to the amount of good it would do his image. If she was lucky, Senator Gunther would see Horizon House as being worthy of his attention long enough for her and the girls to become entrenched in this neighborhood and prove the Elliot Grahams of the town wrong.

The television reporter planted himself in front of Gunther and thrust a microphone under his nose. "Senator Gunther, can you tell us how you became involved in the dispute between Citizens for Family Neighborhoods and Horizon House?"

Lynn watched as Gunther flashed the smile that launched ten thousand ballots. The electricity that flowed out of him hit her with a jolt that almost knocked her off her feet. He was standing not more than a yard away, looking right at her, the blue of his eyes almost startling, the compassion in his expression so real she almost believed it. Amazed, she felt herself drawn to him as if he were magnetic. She had taken a step toward him before she even realized it. She pulled herself up abruptly and gave herself a mental shake. Get ahold of yourself, Lynn. He's just a man.

"I'm always interested when people are unjustly denied basic human rights such as housing," he said, his voice a husky baritone that somehow made him seem more like one of the people than a polished public speaker who was groomed and trained for the job.

"Then you're taking a stand against Citizens for Family Neighborhoods?"

Another smile. This one was soft, with just the perfect touch of hurt feelings. "No one is more in favor of family neighborhoods ...

From AudioFile
Lynn Sharrott animates this reissue of Tami Hoag's 1992 romantic novel by using skillfully honed tension between the main characters, a beautiful counselor and a handsome state senator. Sharrott's pacing and use of subtle tonal inflections enliven these characters, who are sexually drawn to each other but working valiantly to skirt the attraction. As the two engage in a battle of hearts amidst the world's bigotry, Sharrott's dramatization slowly and warmly creates an atmosphere of trust that makes plausible the counselor's belief in "one man who may well be the last white knight." While the romance is primary, the mystery is certainly compelling. K.A.T. © AudioFile 2007, Portland, Maine-- Copyright © AudioFile, Portland, Maine

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8 of 8 people found the following review helpful.
The White Knight
By Frosty Moon
I enjoyed The White Knight by Tami Hoag. It was well written, yet totally different from her other books. This book dealt with a home for troubled girls fitting into a neighbor, where the neighbors did not want them there; especially one individual. A politician steps in to help. The story twists and turns around events that start to happen around the neighbor once the girls move into the neighborhood. As time goes on the politician and the counselor become involved with each other and who is doing the all the vandelism. Will good conquer evil? Will love prevail? What do you think? It was a light reading book that I enjoyed. Lynn Sharrott did an excellent job reading the book. I had not ever listened to her before but I enjoyed her reading tremendously.

12 of 14 people found the following review helpful.
not so good
By bijou2311
I wasn't as fond of this book as I was others by Hoag. In my opinion the mystery part of it was soft, and the love story wasn't that great either.

The basic story is the heroine is a counselor for runaway girls. They move to a new 'house' and one of the residents in the neighborhood organizes a group to protest. The neighbors feel that the home will ruin their nice safe neighborhood. Things start going wrong in the neighborhood and, of course, the teens are blamed. Mixed in along with this is the 'romance' between the counselor and the senator who is there in an attempt to save the home. The counselor, Lynn, thinks that the senator is there just to get camera time and the senator is frustrated by Lynn's repeated efforts to push him away because of her past experiences.

I guess my main problem with the book is it lacked the spark that most of Hoag's other books have. It wasn't horrible, but it was by no means my favorite by Hoag. I would definitely recommend some of her newer books over this, try Mercy for example. Whichever book you end up picking, I hope you enjoy it :)

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
The Last White Knight
By D. Wilson
This story had a little more of a romance type story line than I usually read, but was a good read none the less. I enjoy Tami Hoag as an author and will continue to purchase and read her books.

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