A woman’s life is upended after she witnesses the aftermath of a deadly crime
Natalie should have gone home after the party. One of New York’s hottest literary agents, she was celebrating her latest coup—next year’s mega-thriller, sold at auction for $1.5 million. As the industry bows at her feet, Natalie can’t help but think of her boss, Jay, a handsome dynamo who has been in love with her since her first day on the job. When the party ends, Natalie retreats to the office to clear her head. Lost in thought, she steps to the window—and sees something that strikes fear into her heart.
A man in a trench coat scurries down the sidewalk, stops in front of a construction site, and hurls a pistol over the wall. Natalie doesn’t realize the significance of this until the man sees her watching. They make eye contact, and Natalie knows her life will never be the same—now that a killer knows her face.
Thomas Eugene Gifford was a best-selling American author of thriller novels. He gained international fame with the suspense novel The Wind Chill Factor and later with the Vatican-based thriller The Assassini.
After graduating from Harvard he moved to the Twin Cities, MN where he and his wife, Kari Sandven, had two children (Thomas Eaton, Rachel Claire). Divorced in 1969, he went on to marry Camille D'Ambrose, a local actress. They moved to Los Angeles for a few years, then returned to Orono, MN. Novels continued to flow from his fountain pen through the years. Gifford eventually moved to New York--a city he loved whose people were of infinite importance to him.
In 1996, he turned his attention to renovating his childhood home in Dubuque, spending more time in Iowa than New York during his last years. He embraced the community of Dubuque, as they embraced their prodigal son. Featured in the Dubuque Telegraph Herald, Gifford recounted his every day occurrences, from learning the pleasure of getting a dog (Katie Maxwell, the Scottie) to peeves and pleasures of the town.
Diagnosed with terminal cancer in February, 2000, Gifford spent his remaining months reading, watching old movies, and chatting with friends and family. He passed away on an unseasonably warm Halloween, just as the ghosts and goblins started their tricks.
Gifford lived life large, had friends throughout the world, and lived life by his favorite credo--we're not here for a long time; we're here for a good time.
Gifford also published under the names Dana Clarins and Thomas Maxwell.
Warum habe ich dieses Buch gelesen? Weil es kostenlos aus einer Bücherkiste stammt und ich von Thomas Gifford schon gute Thriller gelesen habe. Warum war dieses Buch so schlecht? Gute Frage! Zur Story – die erfolgreiche und hübsche Literaturagentin Natalie Rader beobachtet von ihrem Bürofenster, wie ein Unbekannter auf einer Baustelle eine Pistole entsorgt – und der Fremde sieht sie. Klingt einerseits bekannt, andererseits ein guter Einstieg in die Geschichte. Aber was dann kommt ist einfach nur noch gequirlter Mist. Da berichtet eine wichtige Zeitung über ihre Sichtung – nachdem ihr Exmann einem Reporter alles brühwarm berichtete - mit Namen und Adresse, die Polizei erscheint in Form eines arrogant überheblichen Gigolos den Natalie sofort anbetet. Dann ist da noch ihr Chef, der sie rund um die Uhr offen anbaggert – was ihr schmeichelt und diverse andere Gestalten, die als Protagonisten für einen Groschenroman getaugt hätten. Mag ja sein, dass es 1984 – dem Erscheinungsjahr des Buches – noch cool wirken sollte, aber selbst da bin ich mir nicht sicher. Jedenfalls ist der Handlungsablauf sowas von unrealistisch und Hanebüchen, dass auch die Spannung am Ende nichts mehr retten kann. Fazit: Das Buch war seinen Preis wert! Was hat es gekostet: Nichts!
This book was a mistake, thought it was the current best seller by AJ Finn - not even close. Reading this sexist trite story thought it might have been written in the 1970's, but copyright is 1984. This is 2 hours I won't get back. Natalie is a very successful book editor who looks out her office window and sees a man in a trench coat throw a gun over a construction site fence, as she is watching, he looks up and sees her, altho she can't see his face. Enough groping goes on with and by enough men in her life that in this age of enlightenment is disgusting. Here's a spoiler alert - the killer approaches her several times, but he uses disguises (he is an actor!) so she doesn't recognize these various people as the same person - he is oh so clever, she is oh so stupid. It a dumb premises.
This was a really good thriller. It started kind of slow but sure made up for it along the way. I will try to read more books from Thomas Gifford. Very well done.
Natalie Radar a top literary agent has the unfortunate luck to look out the window and see a man throwing a gun into a construction site. It gets worse though as the man looks up and sees her as well. So now the question is does the man with the gun think that Natalie has seen enough of him to identify him and link him to the murder that was done with it? This book started off well, lots of intrigue. Sadly, it took a huge nose dive. Rather than being fearful and suspicious of odd things that occur after this event and after her ex-husband has her sighting published in a paper, Natalie is determined to not let anxiety get the best of her. Given that she spends her time focussing on the crazy men in her life and her freindship with a trollop neighbor and freind. The book was hard for me to read through the end as Natalie would continue to walk home at night by herself or her gentle dog, Sir, oblivious of the danger. There was also the time that she came home to find Sir had been drugged, her house broken into. But incidents like this were dismissed as coincidence. Really? What normal person would react that way? Wouldn't it be natural to be concerned, very concerned about what just happened in your life? My opinion is Clarin didn't know how to flush out the characters and or the story so she started putting the pen all over the place.
Reading a bad book is very disappointing to me. It is such a let down it actually affects my mood. As I read this novel I wondered where are the book editors? What are their jobs exactly? Why are so many bad novels published? I finished this book despite the fact that it went bad after chapter 2. I kept hoping it would get better. In the end, this book never did get better but I did want to find out who the mysterious man with the gun turned out to be. If you read this book I would say, read the beginning, scan the middle and jump to the end. The end gets a bit gruesome (some might say needlessly) but it held with the rest of the writing.
„Suspense is killing me“ heißt ein besserer Thriller von Thomas Gifford im Original. Auch dieses Buch wandelt auf den Spuren von Hitchcock, mit einem starken Bezug auf Psycho. Suspense ist eher leicht fühlbares Grauen bis zum unvermeidlich grausamen Showdown mit dem Täter. Also alles andere als eine schier endlose Serie von grausamen Morden und einem atemlos von einem Tatort zum nächsten hechelnden Ermittlerteam. Für Fans dieser Gattung wäre Giffords nie gestelltes Ultimatum so oder so verplemperte Zeit. Da er die meiste Zeit aber nur Abziehbilder aus alten Filmen durch die Handlung stolpern lässt und auch der nächsten, besonders dümmlich geratenen Verkörperung seines weiblichen Ideals keine interessanten Züge verleiht, könnte das schlicht als Zeitverschwendung durchgehen. Gäbe das nicht zwei Passagen: den Besuch der dümmlich-naiven Heldin bei einem versoffenen irischen Autor und seiner Muse. Und natürlich die einzige Szene, die einem kurz das Blut in den Adern gefrieren lässt., ehe die nächste Lächerlichkeit daraus entsteht. Gifford ist einmal mehr nicht in der Lage, das Potenzial seiner Geschichten zur Geltung zu bringen. Anscheinend gerät diesem Autor alles zum Klischee, erst recht, wenn man eine Geschichte mit dem Potenzial für vielleicht 25 Seiten auf das zehnfache aufbläht.
3.5. Kind of a slow start. There didn't seem to be much character or story development. It picked up about 2/3 of the way through. The ending was a bit abrupt.
Pen dance at that wendow gun hide at shadow of actor cold run after many page living at sea of color writ at soul wall walking at dark night thee want to drink my blood go ahed my dog night will be passed away cover that dark bridg i am stupid enugh to trust y eyes of love write many fake date go ahed my dog walking at dark night at end of night many mask will fall and gun go ahead my dog
This is probably an unfair review because I am not a big fan of Mysteries. This book was chosen for book club. It is very typical mystery scenario where the protagonist is a strong beautiful but lonely woman who is swept off her feet * spoiler alert * by a strong man who comes to her rescue. In her defense, she did do quite a few things to take care of herself. On the other hand most of them are pretty stupid and put Her in greater harms way.
This book started out with some promise. It's a sort of rear window storyline. Some odd characters in this story, but I powered on. Repeatedly walking her dog Sir through the city at night was insane. Natalie's sexual encounter with a stranger who broke into her apartment, who had admittedly been following her, was just so unbelievable I just couldn't finish the remainder of the book.
Definitely a page turner. Good old fashion ' what is going to happen next' book. Highly recommended unless you are going to be in a house all by yourself
It took me forever to get through this book. It was boring up until like 75% through the book and that’s when it got interesting. I’m glad I stuck it out and read the whole thing, but wouldn’t recommend it.
I wanted something kinda dated for a change and dated I got. From 1984. There were a few things I couldn't get past like why a NY Post type paper would so heedlessly print such police-sensitive material about a high profile woman and some glaringly poor choices some characters made under the circumstances, but a pretty good mystery.
Natalie for a smart woman came across as not being very smart. She played a part in getting two people killed because didn't tell the police things she should have told them. She told the wrong person, a complete stranger, where she was going to hide out. She has no commonsense.