Praise forNew York Timesbestselling author
ANNE STUART
âA consummate mistress of her craft, Stuart crafts a sophisticated romance that mirrors the rigours of the era and adds her own punch of passion and adventure so that her characters can have the time of their lives. It is pure pleasure to indulge in this part-lighthearted, part-deeply emotional and all-glorious story.â
âRT Book Reviews on The Devilâs Waltz
âThis taut romantic suspense novel from RITA>® Award winner Stuart delivers deliciously evil baddies and the type of disturbing male protagonist that only she can transform into a convincing love interest ⦠Brilliant characterisations and a suitably moody ambience drive this dark tale of unlikely love.â âPublishers Weekly on Black Ice
â[A] sexy, edgy, exceptionally well-plotted tale.â
âLibrary Journal on Into the Fire
âBefore I read ⦠[a] Stuart book I make sure my
day is free ⦠Once I start, she has me hooked.â âNew York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber
âA master at creating chilling atmosphere
with a modern touch.â âLibrary Journal
The True Realization Fellowship and its leader, the Shirosama, is very loosely inspired by the Aum Shinrikyo cult in Japan and their charismatic leader, Shoko Asahara. Most people remember the sarin gas attack on the Tokyo subways twelve years ago, when terrorist attacks were less common, and thereâs something about cults, Jonestown and the like, that are macabre and fascinating. Believe it or not, the real characters were just as badly behaved as my fictional onesâsometimes more so. I simply used Aum as a jumping-off point to create my own delusional madman.
For those who want to explore the story further, there are a number of excellent books, including Destroying the World to Save It by Robert Jay Lifton, A Poisonous Cocktail? by Ian Reader and Underground: The Tokyo Gas Attack and the Japanese Psyche by Haruki Murakami.
Summer Hawthorne wasnât having a particularly good night, though she smiled and said all the right things to all the right people. Someone was watching her. Sheâd been feeling it all evening long, but she had absolutely no idea who it was. Or why.
The opening reception at the elegant Sansone Museum was small and exclusiveâonly the very rich and very powerful were invited to the tiny museum in the Santa Monica Mountains to view the collection of exquisite Japanese ceramics. And even if she wasnât particularly fond of one of those guests, heâd have no reason to watch her.
Her assistant, Micah Jones, resplendent in deep purple, sidled up to her. âIâm leaving you, my darling. This is winding down, and no one will miss me. Iâm assuming everythingâs going well, and Iâve got an offer I canât refuse.â He grinned.
Summer jumped, startled. âEvil man,â she said lightly. âAbandoning me in my time of need. Go ahead. Iâve got everything under control. Even his holiness.â
Micah glanced at their guest of honor and shuddered dramatically. âI can stay and shield you â¦â
âNot on your life! The True Realization Fellowship and their slimy leader are just a bunch of harmless crackpots. Hollywoodâs religion du jour. Besides, youâve been celibate for too long, or so youâve been complaining.â
âIf youâd wear anything but black you might get lucky, too,â Micah said, candid as ever. âEven so, you look marvelous.â
âYou lie,â she said, ignoring her uneasiness. âBut I love you, anyway. Despite the fact that youâre ditching the reception early.â
Micah smiled his dazzling smile. âTrue love waits for no man.â He leaned down and gave her an exuberant kiss. âYou know your roomâs ready for you if you need it. Just ignore any whoops of pleasure coming from my bedroom.â
âYouâre a very bad man,â she said affectionately. âIâm fine, I promise you. You can enjoy yourself in private.â
He blew her a kiss, sauntering off through the crowd, and she watched him go, ignoring her sudden, irrational pang of unease. Feeling the eyes digging into her back once more.
She was half tempted to call Micah back, ask him to wait. The reception would be over in another half hour, and then she could follow him down from the museum, and this odd, tense feeling would vanish.
But she hadnât gotten this far in her life by giving in to irrational fears. It simply had to be because of their esteemed guest of honor, his holiness the Shirosama. He had a reason to watch her out of his colorless eyesâshe was standing between him and the prize Summerâs foolish mother, Lianne, had promised him. And the Shirosama had not gotten to where he was, as head of a worldwide spiritual movement, without knowing how to get what he wanted.