"Emotional and compelling third novel in the Twilight Cove trilogy is outstanding."
Reviewed by Tanzey Cutter
Posted April 15, 2005
Romance Contemporary
Tracy Potter's husband's sudden death turned her world
upside down and totally disillusioned her. Not only was
their affluent lifestyle a lie, but he was not the honest
man she believed him to be. Left near destitute with a
young son and college-age stepdaughter to support, Tracy
turns to the only thing that's still hers -- the Heartbreak
Hotel in Twilight Cove and a small inheritance left to her
by her grandparents. The abandoned inn overlooks the
Pacific Ocean and has been registered as a historic
landmark. That means the only thing she can do is renovate
it and reopen it for business. After six months of hard
work, things are slowly moving ahead, and Tracy is trying
to put the past behind her. But she's in for further
upheaval in her life when her first guest shows up on a
growling motorcycle in the dead of night. Wade MacAllister is running from the demons brought about
by his famous writing career. Deciding that the small,
remote Heartbreak Hotel is the perfect place to deal with
his problems and the scandalous events in his past, Wade
finds something else instead. Coming to this inn and
meeting Tracy have given him a new perspective on life. And
the unusual writing that he finds himself doing when he
doesn't even realize it, is an unnerving aspect that he
can't explain. His attraction to Tracy and her inn cause
him to continue spending more time in this place, even
though he knows he should move on. Wade's secrecy causes some doubt with Tracy, but neither
can deny the strong attraction to each other, both
spiritually and physically. Learning to trust again is a
big hurtle for Tracy to overcome, and when Wade's true
identity is finally revealed, she angrily turns away.
However, she finds that she strongly believes in the love
they've found together and now must fight to convince him
of it, too. This third book in Ms. Landis' Twilight Cove trilogy is
just as emotionally moving and compelling as the first two --
LOVER'S LANE and HEAT WAVE. You become a part of the
people's lives and the community as her deft, stylish
writing enfolds you in the storyline. I wanted to stay at
HEARTBREAK HOTEL and Twilight Cove forever. Another
outstanding novel from this talented author.
SUMMARY
Tracy Potter knew that her husband's sudden death would
change her world forever. What she didn't expect was to
discover that their life together, from their affluent
lifestyle to their marriage vows, had been a lie. Now with
her son and her stepdaughter, she's forced to build a new
life--and she's bet everything she has that she can
resurrect the Heartbreak Hotel, an abandoned inn
overlooking
the Pacific. Empowered by her decision to reopen the hotel,
she feels prepared for almost anything--until her first
guest arrives. The Heartbreak Hotel is a perfect place for Wade
MacAllister
to hide not only from his fame, but from the shocking
events
in his past. Drawn to Tracy and her struggle to succeed, he
is quickly compelled to risk the anonymity his survival
depends upon. By the time Tracy discovers the handsome
stranger's true identity, there's more than ever at stake.
She is not only forced to risk another broken heart and
learn to trust again, but she must fight to make him
believe
in their love.
ExcerptCHAPTER ONE
Wade MacAllister had spent most of his life wishing he had
more of everything--more luck, more talent, more money. He had money now. More money than he'd ever imagined. If
he'd been blessed with real talent, maybe his luck
wouldn't have run out. Steering his Harley into a scenic turnout with a view of
the Pacific, he killed the engine and set the kickstand.
The heavy black and chrome bike listed to one side, poised
above the pavement, heat radiating off of the pipes.
Though silent now, the growl of the engine still hummed in
his ears.
Beyond the lookout, the ocean rose and fell, its rough
surface surging in every direction, pulled by the tide,
the wind, and the swells. Gathering twilight made it
harder to see. Wind gusts off the water matched the rhythm
of the waves. The chill in the air cut through his leather
jacket, reminding him that he could still feel. That he
was still alive. The night was moonless and melancholy. Restless like him. "Make up your goddamned mind." The mumbled words were
quickly swept away, carried off on the wind, drowned by
the roar of the waves. "If you're going to do it, get it
over with." He glanced up and down the highway. There were no cars in
sight. He was ever conscious of the gun in his saddlebag,
a classic Colt .45, Gold Cup Trophy model he had picked up
from a dealer in Phoenix. He'd practiced at a firing range
to make sure he knew how to use it, though for his
purposes, a good aim wasn't important. Tonight, like every other night, his fertile mind conjured
up memories of things best forgotten. He tried, God knew
he'd tried, but there was no way he could ever forgetthe
twelve women murdered in unspeakable ways. Lovely young
women who had died violent, heinous deaths. Acts spawned
by a sick and twisted mind. His sick and twisted mind. Do it right now. Right here. Get it over with. But there was more than a whisper of daylight left. His
mind spun out the what-ifs. What if an unsuspecting driver
pulled over? What if a car full of people drove by, saw
his body lying there? What if there were kids in the car?
What then? He needed to go somewhere off the beaten track, somewhere
lonely and solitary. A secluded place more in keeping with
the way he'd always lived his life. He'd know it when he saw it and when he did, maybe then
he'd find the courage to put an end to everything. The twelve women. The constant moving. The disguises. He'd find the right place and then maybe he'd find the
courage to bring the story of his life to a close.
CHAPTER TWO
After dark, the lobby of the Heartbreak Hotel seemed to
expand, like the walls of a carnival fun house. At night,
the persistent pounding of the waves against the shoreline
filled the rooms like the amplified beat of a solitary
heart. Except for an occasional passing car, there was no
competition for the echo of the waves. Loneliness filled the rooms in the evenings, too. Tracy
Potter didn't notice it as much during the day when she
was running in all directions. But at night, after the
workmen left, the sun had set, and her nine-year-old son,
Matthew, was tucked in bed, she would struggle with an
ache so deep, so raw, that it took everything she had to
convince herself that circumstances change--that life was
bound to take a turn for the better. She still found it hard to believe that in a couple more
weeks, her husband, Glenn, would have been gone six months. Gone. The word made it sound as if he had just stepped out to
meet a client and would be back any minute. Her footsteps echoed against the scuffed hardwood floors
of the wide-open lobby, falling silent whenever she paused
to pick up a sticky wad of used masking tape or carefully
sidestep a pile of drop cloths the workmen had left on the
floor. Six months ago, if anyone would have told her that she'd
be a widow at thirty-three, or that she'd be renovating
the Heartbreak Hotel, let alone living in it, she would
have laughed and called them crazy. A few days after Glenn's death, when his accountant, David
Sylvester, informed her that Glenn had been deep in debt,
she thought he'd been joking. But David had been dead
serious and the joke was on her. It was a morning she'd never forget, sitting there in
David's office, listening as the accountant outlined the
bleak details. "There's no easy way to put it, Tracy. You're broke. As
far as I can tell, there's enough left in your joint
checking account to pay expenses for the next six months,
if you're careful and if you're lucky." She knew things had been tough. She'd confronted Glenn
about the mounting bills. She'd wanted to go back to work,
gladly offering to renew her real estate license. She
would have done anything to help keep them from going
under, but he'd been adamant. He wanted Matt to have a
full-time mom. There were listings about to close. Things
were just tight right now. Things were going to change
soon. Still she'd worried, and with good reason. What the
accountant told her after Glenn's death made that quite
clear. "Glenn refinanced the Canyon Club house to the limit,"
David explained. "There's no equity left. Your credit
cards are maxed out, too. In fact, he made your last two
house payments with his American Express Card. And
unfortunately, he was underinsured. You'll be able to
cover the funeral expenses and, if there's anything left,
I'd advise you to pay off your car, and Chelsea's." Luckily, hers was free and clear. Chelsea's wasn't. Chelsea was Glenn's daughter by his
first marriage. Nineteen now. A freshman at the University
of Southern California. Tracy had sat in stunned silence,
thinking of Chelsea, of the hefty tuition Glenn had been
paying. What now? "Sell the house," David had advised. "Get the bank off
your back before they foreclose." The luxurious house had been Glenn's dream, part of an
upscale development he'd spearheaded. Cabrillo Canyon Club
was a gated community of sixty high-end homes scattered
around a golf course designed by Rex Burrell, one of the
West's premier course designers. They were well built but
overpriced, even in a good market. The homes all sold
eventually, but not overnight. "There is one bit of good news, I guess," David had
quickly added, as if aware that she was quickly slipping
into a self-induced coma. Anything to escape. "And that would be?" "That the IRS and the banks can't touch your inheritance
from your grandparents. It's not much, but it'll help. And
there's that old hotel on the coast road. Glenn put the
title in Matt's name, with you as trustee." "Matt? When? Why?" Matt was only nine. What had Glenn been
thinking? At first she couldn't even remember the place, and then it
came to her. The Heartbreak Hotel. Perched on the coast
off the old Route 1. Glenn had purchased the derelict,
nineteenth-century hotel a handful of years ago, planning
to tear it down and replace it with elegant condos. The
project had quickly bogged down in California Coastal
Commission hearings. After the Twilight Cove Historical Society and the Central
Coast Preservation League entered into the fray, he had
tabled the project altogether, too busy to spend time and
money fighting them all.
She had left David's office that morning determined to
sell the white elephant. But prospective buyers couldn't
walk away fast enough once they learned that the hotel was
to be registered as a historic landmark--thanks to the
Twilight Cove Historical Preservation Society--and that
the Coastal Commission had deemed the prime oceanfront
land beneath it off limits to any new development. She'd looked into renewing her real estate license, then
realized that it might be months before her first escrow
closed, if and when she got a quick listing and actually
sold something. Forced to do the only thing she could under the
circumstances, she'd taken a leap of faith, relied on her
ability to see things the way they could be, not the way
they were, and had used her inheritance from Grandma and
Grandpa Melton to clean up the Heartbreak. Now darkness was quickly gathering as she walked over to a
bank of wall switches behind the desk, flipped on the
lights, and surveyed the progress. Though the place would
never be a five-star hotel, it was finally coming along. Six guest rooms were already completely finished. There
were three left to paint and furnish. The painting was
nearly finished in the lobby. The adjacent sitting room
was no longer as dingy and derelict as it had been the day
she took her first hard look around. Even she, a consummate optimist, had been hard-pressed to
envision possibilities for the place. If Matt hadn't been
with her the first time she walked through, she'd have
been tempted to break down and bawl her eyes out. Old wallpaper had to be stripped. Thankfully, the hardwood
floors were still solid, but needed refinishing. An army
of termites had taken up residence in the walls. She'd
handled the damage with spot repair and fumigation. Basic
cosmetic renovations and a race to open for the coming
tourist season would never have been her first choice, but
she'd seen no quicker way out of her financial crisis. Walking away from their home at Cabrillo Canyon Club,
selling off almost everything, including the designer
furnishings hand-chosen for the house, hadn't hurt
anything but her pride. But then, she'd never really felt
as attached to the Canyon Club house as Glenn. It had been
his dream to live in an impressive showplace--one that
left no doubt as to his success. It wasn't like her to look back, so, counting on the
future to bring change, she glanced out the wide bay
window that curved around the entire front wall. It was
gloomy out tonight. Not a single star brightened a heavy
sky. She was headed for the sunroom and small kitchen area off
the lobby when she heard the deep-throated rumble of a
motorcycle on the coast road. When the sound abruptly
stopped, she froze. Alone in the empty room, she was suddenly all too aware of
how vulnerable she and Matt were, living out on this
deserted stretch of road. It was one thing to have
considered running the Heartbreak all by herself, but the
cold, stark reality of it chilled her blood. She held her
breath, hoping to hear the motorcycle start up again.
CHAPTER THREE
He couldn't have conjured up a better place to stop. Poised in isolation on a remote stretch of road bypassed
by the main highway, the huge two-story wooden hulk had
been visible from a quarter mile away. Reminding him of
the Bates Motel in Psycho, it rose stark and ominous
against the night sky. The place beckoned him, compelled
him to slow down as he neared. Complete with a widow's walk, the old hotel clung to the
bluff above the Pacific. It might have been abandoned,
except for the neon sign out front that blazed ear eak
hot l in hot pink. Below that, in aqua letters, glowed the
word vacancy. Once he saw the place at close range, there was no way he
could ride on. No way he could leave. Perfect. He rolled the bike beneath the eave of the building where
it would be out of a slow drizzle that was making a
halfhearted attempt to turn itself into rain. Quickly he
unsnapped the saddlebag, pulled off his helmet, clamped it
beneath his arm, and ran splayed fingers through his short
hair, forcing it to spike up in front. Taking a deep
breath, he headed around the corner of the building along
a path nearly covered by weeds. Hoping like hell that whoever was manning the front desk
wouldn't recognize him, Wade cleared the worn treads on
the front steps and stared at the oval, etched glass
window in the front door. He gave in to an overpowering
need to step inside.
CHAPTER FOUR
She knew all along that she would be obliged to greet late
arrivals and that she'd be vulnerable every time she
opened the door to a stranger. Thankfully, she'd always
been a firm believer in the innate goodness of people and
had been all her life, but the minute she heard footsteps
thudding on the porch outside and then an insistent
knocking, Tracy found herself slipping her cell phone out
of her pocket. Clutching it in her hand, she crossed the
lobby. Through the window set in the front door, she saw
the silhouette of a man. He stood beneath the golden glow of the porch light--tall,
not thin, not heavy. Solid, with wide shoulders beneath a
black leather jacket that glistened with moisture. His
deep-set dark eyes stared back. While he waited for her to open the door, he wiped his
face with the back of his hand and she realized it must be
raining. She stepped closer to the window in the door and
noted the shiny black helmet beneath his arm and
motorcycle saddlebag dangling from his left hand. "We're not open for business." She raised her voice so
that he could hear her through the oval pane.
He leaned closer. He was smooth-shaven and his clothes
appeared to be clean.
"Your sign says vacancy." His voice was low, but she
easily heard him through the window and suddenly realized
that she must have accidently hit the switch for the neon
sign when she turned the lights on. "We're not open yet," she told him again, damning the
sign. Fixing the thing hadn't made it to the top of her to-
do list yet, nor did she have the money. So many letters
were burned out that the first time Matt saw it lit up, he
asked who would want to stay at a place called Ear Ache
Hot-L and she'd collapsed into gales of laughter. "Come on, lady. Give a guy a break. It's raining." He
shifted his weight and the helmet before he reached into
his pocket. Before she could react, he moved the helmet and pulled out
a wad of bills and flapped them back and forth, then
pressed them against the window. "I've got cash. I just need one room for one night." Tracy sucked on her upper lip and frowned. He was a good head and shoulders taller than her.
Stronger, obviously. Wet. Possibly tired. He had the money, he needed a room, and she had an
abundance of those--not to mention a bank account in need
of an injection. "It's one twenty-five a night." She quoted what she
thought was an outrageous fee for a room in a place still
being renovated. He leaned closer to the oval pane. "I'll take it." She'd always thought you could tell a lot about a person
by their eyes. Though this man's appeared to be open and
honest, there was something else in them she recognized.
Something she'd seen looking back at her from the mirror
lately--a deep, abiding sadness that no amount of positive
pep talks could erase. That underlying sadness moved her more than the fact that
there were day laborers to pay tomorrow, additional paint
yet to buy, not to mention extra bedding and linens on
order. At the rate she was going, she'd have very little
money left to fall back on if the Heartbreak didn't
immediately take off. She wasn't exactly desperate. Not yet anyway. Besides,
desperate wasn't a word she ever used. It conjured up
hopelessness and despair. She certainly wasn't hopeless or
desperate. She was still determined to start over, to make
something of the Heartbreak. And she could certainly use the extra cash. Besides, she was going to have to act like an innkeeper
sooner or later. Why not start tonight?
She pasted on a big smile, opened the door, and indicated
the torn-up lobby with a flourish and a little too much
exuberance. "Welcome to the Heartbreak Hotel. You're our first
official guest." She found herself wishing he would at least smile back. Copyright © 2005 by Jill Marie Landis
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