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The Tower Room
The strange little girl who would not- or could not- speak seemed to come from nowhere, only to vanish again. Only Grace Latimer saw her. Everyone else denied her existence, and remarked pointedly on the fact that Grace Latimer had recently been a patient in a mental institution.
But Grace knew the child was real- real and in danger. She set out not only to prove herself right, but also to rescue the little girl. And she plunged herself and the man who loved her desperately but hopelessly into an abyss of danger more evil than any she had imagined.
But Grace knew the child was real- real and in danger. She set out not only to prove herself right, but also to rescue the little girl. And she plunged herself and the man who loved her desperately but hopelessly into an abyss of danger more evil than any she had imagined.
- GenresGothic
158 pages
First published January 1, 1966
About the author
Dorothy Daniels
165 books31 followersAccording to a mini-biography, accompanied by a photograph, on the rear cover of one of her many gothic novels, Dorothy Daniels was born in Connecticut but by the time she was a full-time writer, in the middle 1960's, was living in California. She was initially an English teacher at a state college but later wrote articles that appeared in national magazines, which led to her career as a writer of mostly gothic paperbacks. Lancer books, which published more than twenty of her novels, proclaimed her "America's Most Popular Gothic Novelist" while Pocket Books claimed her gothic novels had sold over eleven million copies by the middle 1970's. Her approximately 146 novels were published by a dozen paperback publishers, some had as many as four printings while others were printed only once. Lancer and Warner Books together published more than sixty of her novels. The vast majority of her novels were written in the first person and this was a trademark of sorts with Dorothy Daniels, as she rarely strayed from this pattern. Several of her novels take place in the Old South. Her novels were also considerably more involving plot-wise and contained more character development than other gothic novels. She published her last gothic novel, "House of Silence", in late 1980. Afterward she wrote a handfull of historical romances and her last published novel appears to be "Crisis at Valcour" in 1985.
The aforementioned photograph on the rear cover of her 1965 book "Cliffside Castle" contradicts some claims that Dorothy Daniels was male, and at least one internet website's author insists that Dorothy Daniels was actually a man named Paul Hugo Little who lived in Chicago and wrote over 700 books under at least a dozen pseudonyms. We may never know for certain who Dorothy Daniels was. Several of her gothic paperbacks, credited to Dorothy Daniels or Suzanne Somers, were copyrighted by Norman Daniels. She published one novel, "House of False Faces", under the pseudonym Helen Gray Weston, but this book was later reissued as "Dorothy Daniels writing as Helen Gray Weston". She wrote three nurse romance books in addition to her many gothic novels.
Also wrote under the names:
Angela Gray
Cynthia Kavanaugh
Helaine Ross
Suzanne Somers
Geraldine Thayer
Helen Gray Weston
Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.
The aforementioned photograph on the rear cover of her 1965 book "Cliffside Castle" contradicts some claims that Dorothy Daniels was male, and at least one internet website's author insists that Dorothy Daniels was actually a man named Paul Hugo Little who lived in Chicago and wrote over 700 books under at least a dozen pseudonyms. We may never know for certain who Dorothy Daniels was. Several of her gothic paperbacks, credited to Dorothy Daniels or Suzanne Somers, were copyrighted by Norman Daniels. She published one novel, "House of False Faces", under the pseudonym Helen Gray Weston, but this book was later reissued as "Dorothy Daniels writing as Helen Gray Weston". She wrote three nurse romance books in addition to her many gothic novels.
Also wrote under the names:
Angela Gray
Cynthia Kavanaugh
Helaine Ross
Suzanne Somers
Geraldine Thayer
Helen Gray Weston
Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
July 4, 2023
Tight, entertaining little book. I enjoy the genre’s obsession with describing food and clothing. Crepes suzette-style pancakes with golden sausages for breakfast and red silk robes galore!
It’s a nice romantic suspense and reads very quickly.
3.5
It’s a nice romantic suspense and reads very quickly.
3.5
October 12, 2025
“It came to her that she wasn’t going to ask anyone about the child. Not today. Not until tonight, perhaps. She wanted to have her for a little while. Just a very short while. Certainly, whoever had been so careless as to permit a little girl to wander out into the ocean fully dressed didn’t deserve much sympathy.
The little girl who’d wandered out of the ocean…”
When she first glimpsed her, she didn’t know that she was looking at a girl at all. She remembered that she’d been strolling on the beach, her attention turned to the surf, when suddenly she spotted a bright red object floating on the water. Curious, she moved toward the object, and seconds later a tortured cry escaped her, just as her hand quickly covered her mouth, shutting the cry off.
She could still feel the wind whipping through her hair as she stood there, focusing on what was approaching, she’d thought her mind had cracked, this simply COULD NOT be real!
As the little spot of red moved toward her, she saw that it was actually a hat. Then she remembered how it dawned on her that it was a child’s hat! It wasn’t floating on the water, but was being worn, apparently by a little girl who came walking out of the ocean!
She could still vividly see her coming out of the surf, her red hat and red coat. She was wearing white gloves, and in one of her hands she clutched a red patent leather handbag of a size in proportion to her small figure.
She remembered seeing her walk out of the ocean, alone, looking straight ahead, apparently unafraid, acting almost as if a walk out of the sea were an everyday occurrence and not to be considered either alarming or surprising.
She could still feel the cold wetness of the water as she splashed in, seconds later, she swept the little girl into her arms and carried her ashore. She gently set her down into the sand.
“Darling,” she remembered saying breathlessly, “Was anyone with you?”
She could still see the blank look on the child’s face, she didn’t reply, she just looked straight ahead. She remembered gently tilting the child’s head back so she would be compelled to look at her, “Darling, what happened? How did you get in the water? Who was with you?”
The image of the child’s unwinking eyes was burned in her memory. They simply stared back at her.
She’d made several more attempts to initiate conversation with the girl, all of which were unsuccessful.
She’d guessed the child to be about seven years of age. She was blue-eyed, with blond hair the fineness of corn silk. She was small boned but looked healthy. Her hair was dripping with water and the little red hat, which had looked so bright out there in the water, was now a soggy mess of felt.
“Little girl,” she recalled saying, “I want to help you, but you must talk to me if you can. Was anyone with you?”
She remembered that there was no response from the girl, she also recalled the sudden chill she felt from her own wet clothing.
She saw the image of herself picking up the girl, kissing her on the cheek, then her walking with the child in her arms, toward her cottage by the beach.
Her mind conjured the image of herself, setting the girl down in front of the fireplace, then her hasty movements as she made a quick fire. She saw herself removing the girl’s clothing, toweling her off, then wrapping her small body in a soft, fluffy blanket. All the while, the little girl only stared back at her, without any change in expression, as if she were a doll.
She could see herself place the child in one of the kitchen chairs, which would allow her to keep an eye on her while she prepared a meal of chicken noodle soup and toast. She remembered how carefully she poured the last of the milk she had into a small glass, so as not to waste any.
The scene of her feeding the child was still clear in her mind. Then the look of contentment came over the child, her body relaxing, her eyes becoming heavy. She saw herself looking for a sweater, finding it in a drawer, then gently pulling it over the girl’s head. She could imagine herself tucking the child into her bed. Within a few short minutes, she was fast asleep.
She saw the image of herself, gently closing the bedroom door, just then recalling that she was out of groceries. She paused there for a moment, considering what to do, after all, the child would surely sleep for at least a few hours, more than enough time for her to slip away to the village of Boford, Maine to stock up on a few essentials.
And it it was there, her hands gripping the shopping cart, she snapped back to the present, while standing in the middle of the aisle as Hank Slocum’s General Store. It was time to do a bit of shopping, she decided, for her wonderful little unspeaking guest.
Well, needless to say, I was so intrigued by the opening scenes of this story! I finished this first portion of the book, eager to read on. What would become of the little girl? Did she have any family? How on earth did she come to be in the ocean? Would she be allowed to stay with Grace Latimer?
I read with interest, and by the end, I’d been so happy that I did so as there were so many captivating moments in this story.
Here were a few highlights for me:
The mystery of an overnight family plot burial, the rather amazing and astounding process that a film negative goes through to become an actual print photograph, the sadly lethargic idea of a fully functional grand piano that is neglected by decades of misuse, contrasted with the energizing power of a well-made Manhattan! A dramatic cliffside scene, and a near fatal bluff cave in, a spooky old mansion, and the way that important clues can be hidden in plain sight.
“The Tower Room” held me in the power of its potent atmosphere, in the relatable humanness of its characters, and the powerful bond of love between a mother and her child. The story was fast paced, and by the end it seemed to have passed by so quickly, but every bit of it was enjoyable all the same.
As a fan of Mid-Century Gothic Romances, I enjoyed this story. It is not necessarily one of Dorothy Daniels most famous novels, but rather a hidden gem that once again proves her ability to craft outstanding Gothic Romance stories!
The little girl who’d wandered out of the ocean…”
When she first glimpsed her, she didn’t know that she was looking at a girl at all. She remembered that she’d been strolling on the beach, her attention turned to the surf, when suddenly she spotted a bright red object floating on the water. Curious, she moved toward the object, and seconds later a tortured cry escaped her, just as her hand quickly covered her mouth, shutting the cry off.
She could still feel the wind whipping through her hair as she stood there, focusing on what was approaching, she’d thought her mind had cracked, this simply COULD NOT be real!
As the little spot of red moved toward her, she saw that it was actually a hat. Then she remembered how it dawned on her that it was a child’s hat! It wasn’t floating on the water, but was being worn, apparently by a little girl who came walking out of the ocean!
She could still vividly see her coming out of the surf, her red hat and red coat. She was wearing white gloves, and in one of her hands she clutched a red patent leather handbag of a size in proportion to her small figure.
She remembered seeing her walk out of the ocean, alone, looking straight ahead, apparently unafraid, acting almost as if a walk out of the sea were an everyday occurrence and not to be considered either alarming or surprising.
She could still feel the cold wetness of the water as she splashed in, seconds later, she swept the little girl into her arms and carried her ashore. She gently set her down into the sand.
“Darling,” she remembered saying breathlessly, “Was anyone with you?”
She could still see the blank look on the child’s face, she didn’t reply, she just looked straight ahead. She remembered gently tilting the child’s head back so she would be compelled to look at her, “Darling, what happened? How did you get in the water? Who was with you?”
The image of the child’s unwinking eyes was burned in her memory. They simply stared back at her.
She’d made several more attempts to initiate conversation with the girl, all of which were unsuccessful.
She’d guessed the child to be about seven years of age. She was blue-eyed, with blond hair the fineness of corn silk. She was small boned but looked healthy. Her hair was dripping with water and the little red hat, which had looked so bright out there in the water, was now a soggy mess of felt.
“Little girl,” she recalled saying, “I want to help you, but you must talk to me if you can. Was anyone with you?”
She remembered that there was no response from the girl, she also recalled the sudden chill she felt from her own wet clothing.
She saw the image of herself picking up the girl, kissing her on the cheek, then her walking with the child in her arms, toward her cottage by the beach.
Her mind conjured the image of herself, setting the girl down in front of the fireplace, then her hasty movements as she made a quick fire. She saw herself removing the girl’s clothing, toweling her off, then wrapping her small body in a soft, fluffy blanket. All the while, the little girl only stared back at her, without any change in expression, as if she were a doll.
She could see herself place the child in one of the kitchen chairs, which would allow her to keep an eye on her while she prepared a meal of chicken noodle soup and toast. She remembered how carefully she poured the last of the milk she had into a small glass, so as not to waste any.
The scene of her feeding the child was still clear in her mind. Then the look of contentment came over the child, her body relaxing, her eyes becoming heavy. She saw herself looking for a sweater, finding it in a drawer, then gently pulling it over the girl’s head. She could imagine herself tucking the child into her bed. Within a few short minutes, she was fast asleep.
She saw the image of herself, gently closing the bedroom door, just then recalling that she was out of groceries. She paused there for a moment, considering what to do, after all, the child would surely sleep for at least a few hours, more than enough time for her to slip away to the village of Boford, Maine to stock up on a few essentials.
And it it was there, her hands gripping the shopping cart, she snapped back to the present, while standing in the middle of the aisle as Hank Slocum’s General Store. It was time to do a bit of shopping, she decided, for her wonderful little unspeaking guest.
Well, needless to say, I was so intrigued by the opening scenes of this story! I finished this first portion of the book, eager to read on. What would become of the little girl? Did she have any family? How on earth did she come to be in the ocean? Would she be allowed to stay with Grace Latimer?
I read with interest, and by the end, I’d been so happy that I did so as there were so many captivating moments in this story.
Here were a few highlights for me:
The mystery of an overnight family plot burial, the rather amazing and astounding process that a film negative goes through to become an actual print photograph, the sadly lethargic idea of a fully functional grand piano that is neglected by decades of misuse, contrasted with the energizing power of a well-made Manhattan! A dramatic cliffside scene, and a near fatal bluff cave in, a spooky old mansion, and the way that important clues can be hidden in plain sight.
“The Tower Room” held me in the power of its potent atmosphere, in the relatable humanness of its characters, and the powerful bond of love between a mother and her child. The story was fast paced, and by the end it seemed to have passed by so quickly, but every bit of it was enjoyable all the same.
As a fan of Mid-Century Gothic Romances, I enjoyed this story. It is not necessarily one of Dorothy Daniels most famous novels, but rather a hidden gem that once again proves her ability to craft outstanding Gothic Romance stories!
Read
December 20, 2024Lu en audio avec Dollywood sur Twitch.
C'était pas super bien écrit mais très fun à écouter en stream.
C'était pas super bien écrit mais très fun à écouter en stream.
October 15, 2015
Let's get this out of the way: this is not a good book. It's ridiculous and predictable and unintentionally hilarious. Grace is convalescing in a coastal village in Maine after being released from a mental hospital (where she was recovering from the trauma of losing her daughter in a house fire), when one day she sees a little girl walking out of the ocean. Soon after, the child disappears, and it seems like Grace is the only one who can see her. The whole thing is just silly. There's no mention of any tower room until about ten pages from the end. Everyone talks like a 1950s PSA. Grace's beauty and wardrobe are described in such banal detail I felt almost embarrassed for the author. That said, I still enjoyed myself. Sometimes it's fun to read something so unabashedly terrible. And it's short enough that I didn't have time to get bored.
October 3, 2014
A bit cheesy but not annoyingly. Due to g the fact that I think those parts that were cheesy or lame were more of a sign of the times, ie the writing of the era especially in this genre. Overall, good and fun, and well written despite those moments as mentioned above. I give it a 3 1/2. Also, I think I'd definitely check out other Dorothy Daniels books.
October 7, 2016
first time reading this author
easy read
I really got into the book
easy read
I really got into the book
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews