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Summary
Summary
Employing a terrifying twist at the climax, the author of "Loves Music, Loves to Dance" takes readers on an emotionally riveting journey into the mind of a tortured women--accused of murder--who is at the mercy of a psychopathic personality. Copyright © Libri GmbH. All rights reserved.
Author Notes
Mary Higgins Clark was born in the Bronx, New York on December 24, 1927. After graduating from high school and before she got married, she worked as a secretary, a copy editor, and an airline stewardess. She supplemented the family's income by writing short stories. After her husband died in 1964, leaving her with five children, she worked for many years writing four-minute radio scripts before turning to novels. Her debut novel, Aspire to the Heavens, which is a fictionalized account of the life of George Washington, did not sell well. She decided to focus on writing mystery/suspense novels and in 1975 Where Are the Children? was published. She received a B.A. in philosophy from Fordham University in 1979.
Her other works include While My Pretty One Sleeps, Let Me Call You Sweetheart, Moonlight Becomes You, Pretend You Don't See Her, No Place Like Home, The Lost Years, The Melody Lingers On, As Time Goes By and Kiss the Girls and Make Them Cry. She is the author of the Alvirah and Willy series, which began with Weep No More, My Lady. She is also the co-author, with her daughter Carol Higgins Clark, of several holiday crossover books including Deck the Halls, He Sees You When You're Sleeping, Santa Cruise, The Christmas Thief, and Dashing Through the Snow. She writes the Under Suspicion series with Alafair Burke. In 2001, Kitchen Privileges: A Memoir was published. She received numerous honors including the Grand Prix de Literature of France in 1980), the Horatio Alger Award in 1997, the Gold Medal of Honor from the American-Irish Historical Society, the Spirit of Achievement Award from Albert Einstein College of Medicine of Yeshiva University the first Reader's Digest Author of the Year Award 2002 and the Christopher Life Achievement Award in 2003.
Many of her titles have made the best sellers list. Her recent books include All By Myself, Alone, I've Got My Eyes On You, and You Don't Own Me.
Bestselling suspense novelist, Mary Higgins Clark died on January 31, 2020 at the age of 92.
(Bowker Author Biography)
Reviews (3)
Publisher's Weekly Review
Clark pulls out all the stops in this efficiently suspenseful page-turner, a Literary Guild main selection and a 15-week PW bestseller in cloth, telling of a college senior accused of murder and the televangelist couple who abused her as a child. (Feb.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Booklist Review
When four-year-old Laurie Kenyon ventures out into the front yard to wave at a funeral procession against the strict rules imposed by her mother, nightmarish repercussions ensue. She is kidnapped by a child molester who is abetted by his wife. Even though Laurie is released a few years later and returned to her family, the horror is buried within her psyche. Decades later, when her college professor is found brutally murdered, Laurie is convicted despite determined legal representation by her own sister. A psychiatrist discovers that Laurie has four other personalities. This Three Faces of Eve-like story lacks the power and credibility of the original. Higgins' tale has moments of sheer terror but more (and longer) stretches of sheer boredom. (Reviewed Apr. 15, 1992)0671673653Denise Perry Donavin
Kirkus Review
For her ninth sure-fire bestseller, Clark returns to what she does best: using a threatened child (this time, a regressive college-student traumatized by a childhood kidnapping) to grab you by the throat and shake well. Back in 1974, four-year-old Laurie Kenyon was abducted from her posh New Jersey home by Bic and Opal Hawkins, a pair of hippies who raped and terrorized her for two years before the heat got so close they turned her loose. Now she's an honor student at Clinton College who unwittingly harbors four personalities--sexy Leona, truculent Kay, four-year-old Debbie, and a nine-year-old boy--that she's developed to keep her childhood memories at bay. Meanwhile, her kidnappers have transformed themselves into TV preachers on the brink of stardom who keep putting scary photos, knives, and severed chicken heads in Laurie's way in case she recognizes them and wants to speak out. The flash point comes with the murder of personable prof Allan Grant, who'd just gone before the administration with proof that the steamy letters from ``Leona'' he'd been getting were typed on Laurie's typewriter. When Laurie finds herself standing over Grant unable to remember whether or not she killed him, it's up to big sister Sarah, fanatically dedicated to protecting Laurie, to quit the D.A.'s office, take charge of Laurie's defense, and incidentally begin a chaste romance with Justin Donnelly, who's trying to tease the truth out of all those alter egos even as Bic Opal step up their campaign from threats to violence. Not enough menace for you? Clark even throws in the mystery of who really killed Grant, though her heart's not in it: broad hints from the outset will tip off all but the most witless readers. No whodunit, then--but Clark's legion of fans, enthralled by her undeniable skill in pushing their buttons, won't even notice. Just be grateful the author isn't running for office. (Literary Guild Split Dual Selection for July)
Excerpts
Excerpts
Chapter 10 September 12, 1991 -- Ridgewood, New Jersey During the Mass, Sarah kept glancing sideways at Laurie. The sight of the two casket sat the steps of the sanctuary had clearly mesmerized her. She was staring at them, tearless now,seemingly unaware of the music, the prayers, the eulogy. Sarah had to put a hand under Laurie's elbow to remind her to stand or kneel. At the end of the mass, as Monsignor Fisher blessed the coffins, Laurie whispered, "Mommy,Daddy, I'm sorry. I won't go out front alone again." "Laurie," Sarah whispered. Laurie looked at her with unseeing eyes, then turned and with a puzzled expression studied the crowded church. "So many people." Her voice sounded timid and young. The closing hymn was "Amazing Grace." With the rest of the congregation, a couple near the back of the church began to sing, softly at first,but he was used to leading the music. As always he got carried away, his pure baritone becoming louder, soaring above the others, swelling over the thinner voice of the soloist. People turned distracted, admiring. "'I once was lost but now am found...'" Through the pain and grief, Laurie felt icy terror.The voice. Ringing through her head, through her being. I am lost, she wailed silently. I am lost. They were moving the caskets. The wheels of the bier holding her mother's casket squealed. She heard the measured steps of the pallbearers.Then the clattering of the typewriter. "'... was blind but now I see.'" "No! No!" Laurie shrieked as she crumpled into merciful darkness. Several dozen of Laurie's classmates from Clinton College had attended the mass, along with a sprinkling of faculty. Allan Grant, Professor of English, was there and with shocked eyes watched Laurie collapse. Grant was one of the most popular teachers at Clinton. Just turned 40, he had thick, somewhat unruly brown hair, liberally streaked with gray.Large dark brown eyes that expressed humor and intelligence were the best feature in his somewhat long face. His lanky body and casual dress completed an appearance that many young women undergraduates found irresistible. Grant was genuinely interested in his students.Laurie had been in one of his classes every year since she entered Clinton. He knew her personal history and had been curious to see if there might be any observable after effects of her abduction. The only time he'd picked up anything had been in his creative writing class. Laurie was incapable of writing a personal memoir. On the other hand, her critiques of books, authors and plays were insightful and thought-provoking. Three days ago she had been in his class when the word came for her to go to the office immediately.The class was ending and, sensing trouble, he had accompanied her. As they hurried across the campus, she'd told him that her mother and father were driving down to switch cars with her. She'd forgotten to have her convertible inspected and had returned to college in her mother's sedan. "They're probably just running late," she'd said, obviously trying to reassure herself. "My mother says I'm too much of a worrier about them. But she hasn't been that well and Dad is almost 72." Somberly the dean told them that there had been a multi vehicle accident on Route 78. Allan Grant drove Laurie to the hospital. Her sister, Sarah, was already there, her cloud of dark red hair framing a face dominated by large gray eyes that were filled with grief. Grant had met Sarah at a number of college functions and been impressed with the young assistant prosecutor's protective attitude toward Laurie. One look at her sister's face was enough to make Laurie realize that her parents were dead. Over and over she kept moaning "my fault, my fault," seeming not to hear Sarah's tearful insistence that she must not blame herself. Distressed, Grant watched as an usher carried Laurie from the nave of the church, Sarah beside him. The organist began to play the recessional hymn. The pallbearers, led by the monsignor,started to walk slowly down the aisle. In the row in front of him, Grant saw a man making his way to the end of the pew. "Please excuse me. I'm a doctor," he was saying, his voice low but authoritative. Some instinct made Allan Grant slip into the aisle and follow him to the small room off the vestibule where Laurie had been taken. She was lying on two chairs that had been pushed together.Sarah, her face chalk white, was bending over her. "Let me..." The doctor touched Sarah's arm. Laurie stirred and moaned. The doctor raised her eyelids, felt her pulse."She's coming around but she must be taken home.She's in no condition to go to the cemetery." "I know." Allan saw how desperately Sarah was trying to keep her own composure. "Sarah," he said. She turned, seemingly aware of him for the first time."Sarah, let me go back to the house with Laurie.She'll be okay with me." "Oh, would you?" For an instant gratitude replaced the strain and grief in her expression. "Some of the neighbors are there preparing food, but Laurie trusts you so much. I'd be so relieved." I once was lost but now am found... A hand was coming at her holding the knife, the knife dripping with blood, slashing through the air.Her shirt and overalls were soaked with blood. She could feel the sticky warmth on her face. Something was flopping at her feet. The knife was coming... Laurie opened her eyes. She was in bed in her own room. It was dark. What happened? She remembered. The church. The caskets. The singing. "Sarah!" she shrieked, "Sarah! Where are you?" Copyright © 1992 by Mary Higgins Clark Excerpted from All Around the Town by Mary Higgins Clark All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
