Summer of Roses
(Sprache: Englisch)
Nach einem schweren Schicksalsschlag haben sich Lily und ihre achtjährige Tochter Rose an die windgepeitschte Küste von Nova Scotia zurückgezogen. Das Zusammentreffen mit den anderen Dorfbewohnern, alle vom Schicksal gezeichnet, hilft den beiden ein neues Leben zu beginnen.
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Nach einem schweren Schicksalsschlag haben sich Lily und ihre achtjährige Tochter Rose an die windgepeitschte Küste von Nova Scotia zurückgezogen. Das Zusammentreffen mit den anderen Dorfbewohnern, alle vom Schicksal gezeichnet, hilft den beiden ein neues Leben zu beginnen.
Klappentext zu „Summer of Roses “
Few novelists touch our hearts, quicken our souls, and enrich our lives like Luanne Rice. Now she brings full circle one of her most compelling explorations of the heart . . . all the ways it can be broken . . . and the magic that makes it whole again.On the windswept coast of Nova Scotia, two friends and their young daughters have found refuge in the rugged community of Cape Hawk. Lily Malone and nine-year-old Rose are making a new home with a man who will do whatever it takes to protect them. Marisa Taylor and young Jessica are beginning to recapture the music that once filled their world with joy.
But now a stranger from faraway New England has made his way to Cape Hawk, bearing secrets from the past and news of an uncertain future. And each woman will face choices that will irrevocably shape all the seasons to come between lives left behind, mysteries unsolved, and loves that must be reclaimed or abandoned forever. . . .
Luanne Rice has enticed millions of readers by enveloping them in stories that are wrapped in the hot, sultry weather of summer . . . she does it so well. USA Today
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Summer of RosesChapter 1
How does a person reenter a life she left nine years earlier?
Knowing that there had been a relentless search for her, that her picture had been plastered on the front pages of every newspaper in Connecticut and beyond? Understanding that every local police department remained on the lookout for her? Realizing that all but one of her friends and family have given her up for dead?
The answer is, she walks right in the front door.
That s what Lily Malone did in the very-early-morning hours of August ninth. Just past one A.M., Liam Neill parked his truck in the turnaround at Hubbard s Point, lifted Rose sleeping, after the long drive from Nova Scotia and followed Lily down the stone steps.
Lily glanced at the arch over the wishing well there was the house name, Sea Garden, its letters just a little more rusty, a bit more filigreed from the salt air, than they had been nine years earlier. The sight gave her a pang so deep, she gasped out loud. Lily was really home. A breeze blew off Long Island Sound salt water, just like the Gulf of St. Lawrence in Maritime Canada, where she had lived and hidden these last nine years. But this night breeze was warm, gentle, filled with scents of marsh grass and sandy beaches instead of the fjord s arctic cliffs and cold, clear water flowing straight off the pack ice.
Oh my, she said out loud, alive with the thrill of finally coming home. The roses greeted her their perfume filled the air, and if the ones growing up the trellis beside the front door were slightly less well tended than they d been nine years ago, they were still profuse and extravagant. Lily reached up, through the thorns, to feel underneath the shingle just beside the dark porch light, and there it was the key her grandmother had always kept hidden there, guarded by the roses foliage and thorns. She didn t move it, she whispered.
Of course she didn t, Liam said in her ear, standing behind her with Rose. She never
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stopped hoping you d come back.
Maeve is coming home too, Lily said, opening the squeaky screen door, holding it open with her shoulder, fumbling with the key in the rusty old door lock. Right? Tell me she s going to be okay
She will be, Lily, Liam said.
Lily felt the key turn. Nine years later, the door made the same bump as it opened, one of the hinges hanging just slightly. Stepping into the kitchen . . . smelling beach-house dampness encroaching from the absence of its owner. Yet someone Clara, obviously had opened a few windows. Lily walked through the first floor as if she were a ghost, haunting her most beloved, familiar place on earth.
Lily began to smile. It s all the same, she whispered. The moon had risen out of the Sound, casting a gleaming white light on the calm water, its pale light flooding the room. Lily saw the familiar slipcovers, braided rugs, pillows she had needlepointed for her grandmother.
She ran her fingers over her old shell collection, books in the bookcase, moonstones gathered at low tide on Little Beach.
She had to see everything, yet she couldn t turn on a lamp yet. If she turned on a light, it would mean she was committed to this. This meaning that she was really here, that her exile was over, that she had returned to the land of the living. Neighbors would see the light and come over. People would know that she was back.
Edward would find out.
Where does Rose sleep? Liam asked.
In my room, Lily whispered. She led him up the narrow stairs. The second floor had four small bedrooms beach-cottage in size and feel. Lily s heart was racing as she entered her old
Maeve is coming home too, Lily said, opening the squeaky screen door, holding it open with her shoulder, fumbling with the key in the rusty old door lock. Right? Tell me she s going to be okay
She will be, Lily, Liam said.
Lily felt the key turn. Nine years later, the door made the same bump as it opened, one of the hinges hanging just slightly. Stepping into the kitchen . . . smelling beach-house dampness encroaching from the absence of its owner. Yet someone Clara, obviously had opened a few windows. Lily walked through the first floor as if she were a ghost, haunting her most beloved, familiar place on earth.
Lily began to smile. It s all the same, she whispered. The moon had risen out of the Sound, casting a gleaming white light on the calm water, its pale light flooding the room. Lily saw the familiar slipcovers, braided rugs, pillows she had needlepointed for her grandmother.
She ran her fingers over her old shell collection, books in the bookcase, moonstones gathered at low tide on Little Beach.
She had to see everything, yet she couldn t turn on a lamp yet. If she turned on a light, it would mean she was committed to this. This meaning that she was really here, that her exile was over, that she had returned to the land of the living. Neighbors would see the light and come over. People would know that she was back.
Edward would find out.
Where does Rose sleep? Liam asked.
In my room, Lily whispered. She led him up the narrow stairs. The second floor had four small bedrooms beach-cottage in size and feel. Lily s heart was racing as she entered her old
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Luanne Rice
Luanne Rice is the author, most recently, of Last Kiss and Light of the Moon, among many other New York Times bestsellers. She lives in New York City and on the Connecticut shore.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Luanne Rice
- 2006, 416 Seiten, Maße: 17,196 cm, Gebunden, Englisch
- Verlag: Bantam Books
- ISBN-10: 0553587668
- ISBN-13: 9780553587661
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
Luanne Rice has enticed millions of readers by enveloping them in stories that are wrapped in the hot, sultry weather of summer . . . she does it so well. USA Today
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