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325 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1991
"Her voice was like hot whiskey, smooth and potent. Rich, throaty, touched with the barest whisper of the South, it might have been fashioned for the airwaves. Any man in Denver who was tuned in to her frequency would believe she was speaking only to him."Commence internal groaning and eye-rolling. So yeah, that didn't bode well. Still, I surged on, believing that Nora Roberts could make something out of the formulaic plot. Again, I was disappointed. If the focus had been more on the suspense part and less on the "romance," it could have been an okay read. Instead I had to suffer through Cilla's lame hang-ups and excuses for why she can't be in a relationship. All of which could be remedied if she'd just take the time to see a therapist. The only thing that bothered me more was her utter stupidity. She continually left out much-needed information that could help the cops figure out who was behind the threats to her life. Instead, her constant excuses were, "I didn't think of it" or "I didn't think it was important" or other such bullcrap that made me want to slap her silly (if she wasn't already that way). Boyd wasn't bad but he didn't really make a lasting impression either. From the physical description, it sounds like he might have been molded after Clint Eastwood in an homage to Play Misty for Me, but maybe I'm seeing things that aren't there.