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Without Warning
250 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published August 1, 1981
1 person is currently reading
226 people want to read
About the author
Fern Michaels
431 books6,593 followersFern Michaels isn’t a person. I’m not sure she’s an entity either since an entity is something with separate existence. Fern Michaels® is what I DO. Me, Mary Ruth Kuczkir. Growing up in Hastings, Pennsylvania, I was called Ruth. I became Mary when I entered the business world where first names were the order of the day. To this day, family and friends call me Dink, a name my father gave me when I was born because according to him I was ‘a dinky little thing’ weighing in at four and a half pounds. However, I answer to Fern since people are more comfortable with a name they can pronounce.
As they say, the past is prologue. I grew up, got a job, got married, had five kids. When my youngest went off to Kindergarten, my husband told me to get off my ass and get a job. Those were his exact words. I didn’t know how to do anything except be a wife and mother. I was also a voracious reader having cut my teeth on The Bobbsey Twins, Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys, Cherry Ames and the like. The library was a magical place for me. It still is to this day. Rather than face the outside world with no skills, I decided to write a book. For some reason that didn’t intimidate me. As my husband said at the time, stupid is as stupid does. Guess what, I don’t have that husband any more. Guess what else! I wrote 99 books, most of them New York Times Best Sellers.
Moving right along here . . . Several years ago I left Ballantine Books, parted company with my agent, sold my house in New Jersey that I had lived in all my married life and in 1993 moved to South Carolina. I figured if I was going to go through trauma let it be all at one time. It was a breeze. The kids were all on their own at that point. The dump was a 300 year old plantation house that is listed in the National Registry that I remodeled. Today it is beyond belief as are the gardens and the equally old Angel Oaks that drip Spanish moss. Unfortunately, I could not get my ghost to relocate. This ghost has been documented by previous owners. Mary Margaret as we call her, is “a friendly”. She is also mischievous. It took me two weeks to figure out that she didn’t like my coffee cups. They would slide off the table or counter or else they’d break in the dishwasher. I bought red checkered ones. All are intact as of this writing. She moves pillows from one room to the other and she stops all the clocks in the house at 9:10 in the a.m. at least once a week. When the Azaleas are in bloom, and only then, I find blooms on my night stand. I have this glorious front porch and during the warm months I see my swing moving early in the morning when the air is still and again late in the day. She doesn’t spook the dogs. I always know when she’s around because the five of them line up and look like they’re at a tennis match. As of this writing we’re co-habiting nicely.
Most writers love what they do and I’m no exception. I love it when I get a germ of an idea and get it down on paper. I love breathing life into my characters. I love writing about women who persevere and prevail because that’s what I had to do to get to this point in time. It’s another way of saying it doesn’t matter where you’ve been, what matters is where you’re going and how you get there. The day I finally prevailed was the day I was inducted into the New Jersey Literary Hall of Fame. For me it was an awesome day and there are no words to describe it.
I’ve been telling stories and scribbling for 37 years. I hope I can continue for another 37 years. It wasn’t easy during some of those years. As I said, I had to persevere. My old Polish grandmother said something to me when I was little that I never forgot. She said when God is good to you, you have to give back. For a while I didn’t know how to do that. When I finally figured it out I set up The Fern Michaels® Foundation.
READ FERN MICHAELS' FULL BIOGRAPHY HERE: http://www.fernmichaels.com/biography/
As they say, the past is prologue. I grew up, got a job, got married, had five kids. When my youngest went off to Kindergarten, my husband told me to get off my ass and get a job. Those were his exact words. I didn’t know how to do anything except be a wife and mother. I was also a voracious reader having cut my teeth on The Bobbsey Twins, Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys, Cherry Ames and the like. The library was a magical place for me. It still is to this day. Rather than face the outside world with no skills, I decided to write a book. For some reason that didn’t intimidate me. As my husband said at the time, stupid is as stupid does. Guess what, I don’t have that husband any more. Guess what else! I wrote 99 books, most of them New York Times Best Sellers.
Moving right along here . . . Several years ago I left Ballantine Books, parted company with my agent, sold my house in New Jersey that I had lived in all my married life and in 1993 moved to South Carolina. I figured if I was going to go through trauma let it be all at one time. It was a breeze. The kids were all on their own at that point. The dump was a 300 year old plantation house that is listed in the National Registry that I remodeled. Today it is beyond belief as are the gardens and the equally old Angel Oaks that drip Spanish moss. Unfortunately, I could not get my ghost to relocate. This ghost has been documented by previous owners. Mary Margaret as we call her, is “a friendly”. She is also mischievous. It took me two weeks to figure out that she didn’t like my coffee cups. They would slide off the table or counter or else they’d break in the dishwasher. I bought red checkered ones. All are intact as of this writing. She moves pillows from one room to the other and she stops all the clocks in the house at 9:10 in the a.m. at least once a week. When the Azaleas are in bloom, and only then, I find blooms on my night stand. I have this glorious front porch and during the warm months I see my swing moving early in the morning when the air is still and again late in the day. She doesn’t spook the dogs. I always know when she’s around because the five of them line up and look like they’re at a tennis match. As of this writing we’re co-habiting nicely.
Most writers love what they do and I’m no exception. I love it when I get a germ of an idea and get it down on paper. I love breathing life into my characters. I love writing about women who persevere and prevail because that’s what I had to do to get to this point in time. It’s another way of saying it doesn’t matter where you’ve been, what matters is where you’re going and how you get there. The day I finally prevailed was the day I was inducted into the New Jersey Literary Hall of Fame. For me it was an awesome day and there are no words to describe it.
I’ve been telling stories and scribbling for 37 years. I hope I can continue for another 37 years. It wasn’t easy during some of those years. As I said, I had to persevere. My old Polish grandmother said something to me when I was little that I never forgot. She said when God is good to you, you have to give back. For a while I didn’t know how to do that. When I finally figured it out I set up The Fern Michaels® Foundation.
READ FERN MICHAELS' FULL BIOGRAPHY HERE: http://www.fernmichaels.com/biography/
Ratings & Reviews
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
May 14, 2018
If I had psychic powers and a mom as horrible as the mom in this book, I'd probably want to blow up the local mall, too.
February 26, 2021
Without Warning was a big disappointment, honestly. I was so excited when I saw this book on eBay. The cover with the creepy Santa had me sold, so I pretty much bought it without warning (hehe) of what the story was about. I became even more curious when I learned that the author, Fern Michaels, primarily wrote romance. This is a book about a psychic teenager who has a vision of someone blowing up a mega mall during Christmas. I’d say that’s a bit out of her comfort zone.
Unfortunately, it shows. The dialogue made me cringe and roll my eyes and want to skim the story. The story itself doesn’t evolve any further than the synopsis: she has a vision and tells someone about it. That’s almost all that happens.
But hey, why don’t we add in a villain who wants to kill everyone because he’s a fat loner loser and a top-notch security guard who really only appears so the author can make mention of him being black? Yeah, it’s pretty bad. There are some major racist moments any time that particular character is talked about. On top of that, we get no further information about the villain other than to hear fat jokes.
I think you guys get the point. The cover is without a doubt the best part of this book. The writing sucks, the dialogue and characterization is subpar at best and offensive most of the time, and the ending is one of the worst I’ve read in a long time.
Unfortunately, it shows. The dialogue made me cringe and roll my eyes and want to skim the story. The story itself doesn’t evolve any further than the synopsis: she has a vision and tells someone about it. That’s almost all that happens.
But hey, why don’t we add in a villain who wants to kill everyone because he’s a fat loner loser and a top-notch security guard who really only appears so the author can make mention of him being black? Yeah, it’s pretty bad. There are some major racist moments any time that particular character is talked about. On top of that, we get no further information about the villain other than to hear fat jokes.
I think you guys get the point. The cover is without a doubt the best part of this book. The writing sucks, the dialogue and characterization is subpar at best and offensive most of the time, and the ending is one of the worst I’ve read in a long time.
January 21, 2026
A fast and easy read that chronicles the fates of a disgruntled, would-be mall-bomber Santa and the gifted, rebel girl (Angela) who has a vision of the mall’s demise happening at the height of the Christmas shopping season.
It’s up to her and the mall’s board members to race against time and stop the disaster. I really appreciated the unwitting-yet-serendipitous sliding-doors relationship between Angela and “Santa” as the days led up to potential disaster. At times it felt like a mash-up of Final Destination and Joe Hill’s “N0S4A2” but with less characters and a more abrupt execution.
It’s up to her and the mall’s board members to race against time and stop the disaster. I really appreciated the unwitting-yet-serendipitous sliding-doors relationship between Angela and “Santa” as the days led up to potential disaster. At times it felt like a mash-up of Final Destination and Joe Hill’s “N0S4A2” but with less characters and a more abrupt execution.
March 13, 2016
Very strange but compelling novel pays homage to the disaster films of the 70s with its multi-character narrative surrounding an impending catastrophic event. Some of the language and ideas about race and gender roles are definitely of its time, but they're not a huge distraction. The novel ends rather abruptly after its climax, and not all its ideas are fully explored satisfactorily, but it'll hold your attention nonetheless.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews