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Isabel Raine thought she had everything–a successful career, a supportive family, and a happy marriage to the man she loved. Then one ordinary morning, her husband, Marcus, picks up his briefcase, kisses her good-bye, and simply vanishes. That day, all her calls to him go straight to voice mail; the messages she leaves at his office go unreturned, too. Panicking after finally receiving a call from his cell phone in which all she can hear is a man’s terrified cry, Isabel calls the police. But they aren’t interested. Men leave, they tell her. Desperate to find her husband, Isabel races to his office. But instead of finding him, she finds herself in the middle of an FBI raid. Hours later, she awakens in the hospital with a severe concussion and a homicide detective by her bedside waiting to question her about Marcus Raine–the real Marcus Raine.
Isabel Raine thought she had everything–a successful career, a supportive family, and a happy marriage to the man she loved. Then one ordinary morning, her husband, Marcus, picks up his briefcase, kisses her good-bye, and simply vanishes. That day, all her calls to him go straight to voice mail; the messages she leaves at his office go unreturned, too. Panicking after finally receiving a call from his cell phone in which all she can hear is a man’s terrified cry, Isabel calls the police. But they aren’t interested. Men leave, they tell her. Desperate to find her husband, Isabel races to his office. But instead of finding him, she finds herself in the middle of an FBI raid. Hours later, she awakens in the hospital with a severe concussion and a homicide detective by her bedside waiting to question her about Marcus Raine–the real Marcus Raine.
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Extraits-
From the cover
Part 1: Parting
1
The last time I saw my husband, he had a tiny teardrop of raspberry jam in the blond hairs of his goatee. We'd just shared cappuccinos he'd made in the ridiculously expensive machine I'd bought on a whim three weeks earlier, and croissants he'd picked up on his way in from his five-mile run, the irony lost on him. His lean, hard body was a machine, never gaining weight without his express design. Unlike me. The very aroma of baked goods and my thighs start to expand.
They were warm, the croissants. And as I tried to resist, he sliced them open and slathered them with butter, then jam on top of that, left one eviscerated and gooey, waiting on the white plate. I fought the internal battle and lost, finally reaching for it. It was perfect—flaky, melty, salty, sweet. And then—gone.
"You're not a very good influence," I said, licking butter from my fingertips. "It would take over an hour on the elliptical trainer to burn that off. And we both know that's not going to happen." He turned his blue eyes on me, all apology.
"I know," he said. "I'm sorry." Then the smile. Oh, the smile. It demanded a smile in return, no matter how angry, how frustrated, how fed up I was. "But it was so good, wasn't it? You'll remember it all day." Was he talking about the croissant or our predawn lovemaking?
"Yes," I said as he kissed me, a strong arm snaking around the small of my back pulling me in urgently, an invitation really, not the good-bye that it was. "I will."
That's when I saw the bit of jam. I motioned that he should wipe his face. He was dressed for an important meeting. Crucial was the word he used when he told me about it. He peered at his reflection in the glass door of the microwave and wiped the jam away.
"Thanks," he said, moving toward the door. He picked up his leather laptop case and draped it over his shoulder. It looked heavy; I was afraid he'd wrinkle his suit, a sharp, expensive black wool affair he'd bought recently, but I didn't say so. Too mothering.
"Thanks for what?" I asked. Already I'd forgotten that I'd spared him from the minor embarrassment of going to an important meeting with food on his face.
"For being the most beautiful thing I'll see all day." He was an opportunistic charmer. Had always been that.
I laughed, wrapped my arms around his neck, kissed him again. He knew what to say, knew how to make me feel good. I would think about our lovemaking, that croissant, his smile, that one sentence all day.
"Go get 'em," I said as I saw him out of the apartment door, watched him walk to the elevator at the end of the short hallway. He pressed the button and waited. The hallway had sold us on the apartment before we'd even walked through the door: the thick red carpet, the wainscoting, and the ten-foot ceilings—New York City prewar elegance. The elevator doors slid open. Maybe it was then, just before he started to move away, that I saw a shadow cross his face. Or maybe later I just imagined it, to give some meaning to those moments. But if it was there at all, that flicker of what—Sadness? Fear?—it passed over him quickly; was gone so fast it barely even registered with me then.
"You know I will," he said with the usual cool confidence. But I heard it, the lick of his native accent on his words, something that only surfaced when he was stressed or drunk. But I wasn't worried for him. I never doubted him. Whatever he had to pull off that day, something vague about investors for his company, there was no doubt in my mind that he'd do it. That was just him: What he wanted, he got. With a...
Au sujet de l’auteur-
Lisa Unger is an award-winning New York Times and international bestselling author. Her novels have sold over 1 million copies in the U.S. and have been translated into 26 different languages.
Critiques-
Bestselling author Isabel Raine's perfect life is turned upside down when her husband of five years mysteriously disappears. She soon discovers that everything about him is a lie, including his name. Ann Marie Lee is a consummate narrator of novels driven by female characters. A gifted performer, she uses her vocal talents to convey a diverse range of emotions. Her pitch is ideal for audiobook narration, and her melancholy tone further enhances her wonderful performance of this work. Lee is also adept at adding catches and quivers to her voice during emotionally charged scenes. Although her male voices are a bit weaker, her female voices and delivery of narrative are so strong that she is an accomplished storyteller. A.R.H. (c) AudioFile 2009, Portland, Maine
April 20, 2009 Thriller author Unger's intriguing if overstuffed stand-alone introduces a tough and grudgingly vulnerable heroine who will stop at nothing to uncover the truth, even if it threatens to tear apart her life. Isabel Connelly, a bestselling novelist, and her loving husband, Marcus Raine, a computer game designer, have it all, including an elegant prewar apartment on Manhattan's Upper West Side. When Marcus doesn't come home one night, Isabel goes to his office, where she's confronted by a dozen people with weapons drawn. Det. Grady Crowe later informs Isabel that not only is her husband missing but he's been lying about his past, having stolen the real Marcus Raine's identity years earlier. Despite a text from Marcus urging her to forget about him, Isabel vows to track him down. Usually adept at juggling multiple plot lines, Unger (Black Out ) dilutes Isabel's story with point-of-view shifts and unnecessary subplots, including one about Crowe's marital woes.
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Bestselling author Isabel Raine's perfect life is turned upside down when her husband of five years mysteriously disappears. She soon discovers that everything about him is a lie, including his name. Ann Marie Lee is a consummate narrator of novels driven by female characters. A gifted performer, she uses her vocal talents to convey a diverse range of emotions. Her pitch is ideal for audiobook narration, and her melancholy tone further enhances her wonderful performance of this work. Lee is also adept at adding catches and quivers to her voice during emotionally charged scenes. Although her male voices are a bit weaker, her female voices and delivery of narrative are so strong that she is an accomplished storyteller. A.R.H. (c) AudioFile 2009, Portland, Maine
