Brent Masterson, a high-powered attorney, finds himself in the middle of both a devastating earthquake and the needs of a single mother seeking his help to locate her nine month old daughter. The journey from the ruined church where they attended mass, and where it all began, to Shimie’s apartment is fraught with danger every step of the way. The eight blocks to be traveled are met with crumbled houses, fires, fallen trees, torn up streets, exploding homes and sinkholes. The spring suns of Scottsdale did their best to drain them of their last ounce of energy. Crawling inside every room of her damaged apartment, Brent discovers the body of the sitter lying on the kitchen floor—but no signs of the daughter. Brent did his best to convince Shimie that a Good Samaritan had rescued her daughter, though he eventually believed otherwise. The ensuing trek to his reasonably intact home was equally long and had sucked out their last bit of energy. Working with a Scottsdale Detective friend, Brent spends the ensuing days attempting to piece together the child’s disappearance in the middle of an earthquake. Was the sitter murdered, or was she in fact a victim of the quake? Where in all of this was the former husband she hadn't heard from in a while? Out of gratitude for what Brent was doing on her behalf, she sets in motion his seduction—not realizing she would eventually find herself falling in love with an openly committed bachelor. Frustrated by the slowness of events regarding her still missing daughter, she sneaks out of his house and makes her way across Phoenix to the seedier part of town; all in the belief that maybe her former husband knew where her daughter was. In her quest to find the baby’s father, however, she finds herself awakening in a hospital bed. Brent, though tired of her stubborn ways, brings her home to recuperate while the search continues for the daughter. He’s made it plain to Shimie that once the daughter is found, mother and daughter would eventually be evicted—there was no room in his professional life for permanent relationships.
Jennings has developed a good plot line into engaging entertainment of the modern Mills and Boon variety. The story centres on the relationship between a rich, career minded, single, businessman and a mother separated from a drug dealing father. The child goes missing in the aftermath of an earthquake. The relationship between the mother and the child runs rather superficially, as a background to the developing bond between the main character and the mother. A think that unless there had been very strong relationship difficulties between mother and child, which their apparently weren't, the loss would have impacted more forcefully on the adult relationship. Readers will draw their own conclusions. However, I'm sure I won't be the only one that sees this as strange. Having pointed up this one possible flaw, the story works well in all other respects. Apart from some rather avant-garde verb structures the style of writing works well. These constructs may cause some others to similarly pause to scratch their heads from time to time. Meaning is always clear, but the lack of grammatical rigour did cause me to jump a few mental hurdles. I don't think many readers will fail to guess the end from early on in the story, not that that matters with mainstream romantic genre plots. I assume that most lovers of romance reads like to have a feel-good ending, one which Jennings doesn't fail to deliver after some deep emotional pits have been navigated. We run through a good range of emotions as we head towards a climax or two. Not everything is left to the imagination as it was in this author's debut book, "Flight Surgeon", so a broader readership is likely to be fulfilled. This one is definitely less suited to reading aloud in church, whilst still being stayed enough to avoid upsetting all but those with a severe prudish intolerance for real-to-life drama. So those that are expecting Jennings' very proper sexual propriety demonstrated his first book are forewarned. The contents are certainly less chaste than the cover.