New York Times bestselling author Luanne Rice returns to Hubbard's Point, Connecticut, and to characters from her beloved Beach Girls, to tell the haunting story of a close-knit community grappling with a heartbreaking mystery, and of a woman rebuilding her world and reclaiming a love she believed lost a lifetime ago.
A face on a poster, a name in the news, an inexplicable tragedy. A promising young man goes out one warm summer evening and is found dead--murdered--less than twenty-four hours later. No motive. No clues. No answers. Most people reflect briefly on the disturbing headlines, perhaps say a silent prayer of safely removed sympathy, and go on with their lives. But what if the young man was your son? Or your true love?
Nearly a year after the death of eighteen-year-old Charlie, singer-songwriter Sheridan Rosslare still hasn't played a note of the music that was once her life's passion. Tucked away in the beach house where she raised her only child, she lives with her memories of him and a grief too big to share even with her beloved sisters or her dear friend Stevie Moore. Nor can Stevie comfort Charlie's heartbroken girlfriend, Nell Kilvert, whom she regards as a daughter. Nell won't rest until she finds out what really happened to the boy she loved. Out of the past she summons a man she believes cares enough, and is tough enough, to uncover the truth—Sheridan's long-ago soul mate, Gavin Dawson.
Now Gavin's boat, the Squire Toby, sits anchored in the harbor within sight of the window of the woman he once loved, still loves, and will always love. Sheridan, too, had once fervently believed in the miraculous power of love and healing, forgiveness, connection, and reconnection. But that faith died along with her son….
Unfolding among the Hubbard's Point people and places that fans have come to treasure, and replete with feeling and mystery, Last Kiss weighs the power of the past to heal as well as wound, in a captivating tale of love, loss, and redemption that no reader will ever forget.
NELL KILVERT LAY BACK ON THE GRASS, HEARING THE breeze rustle the leaves overhead. Her bikini was salt-and sun-faded, a pretty shade of rose; around her waist she wore a beach towel, still damp from her last swim. Around her ankle she wore a strip of cloth, so ragged it looked ready to fall off. Charlie had tied it there three hundred and fifty-something days ago, just before leaving Hubbard's Point for college, at the end of last summer.
Her long hair was dark brown. She had cat eyes: green, almond-shaped, unblinking. Right now there were tears pouring down out of them, into her ears, as she stared up at the gorgeous blue sky.
"It's so beautiful," she whispered.
"I know. So why are you crying?"
"Because he can't feel it . . . he'll never feel summer again."
"Why do you come here?"
"So I can be near him."
The boy--his name was Tyler--stared at her. She knew he was there, kneeling beside her, but she blocked him out. She focused completely on Charlie. Closing her eyes, she could imagine him right here with her.
The cemetery was quiet. Located behind Foley's Store, right in the middle of Hubbard's Point--between the train bridge that separated the beach from the rest of the world, and the Sound--it was filled with tall trees. And it was filled with graves. One of them was Charlie's.
Nell lay on the ground by Charlie's headstone. She came here often, at least once a day, before or after work at Foley's, carefully timing her visits to avoid seeing his mother. Not that she didn't like Charlie's mother--Nell visited Sheridan often. They would sit quietly in the dark house, sometimes talking, sometimes not. Nell would look at the silent guitars and remember how when Charlie was young, his mother had filled their house with music. Nell craved those times with Charlie's mother, her companion in grief. But here at the grave, Nell knew Sheridan needed her own time with her son.
"Don't you ever get spooked here?" Tyler asked, so close she could feel his breath on her forehead.
"Why would I?" Nell asked.
"Well, because it's a graveyard."
"Once someone you love dies, you're not scared of graveyards," she said.
"Huh," he said, sounding unconvinced. An old tree creaked in the breeze, making him jump. She knew he'd like to book out of there, head down to the sun and fun on the beach, but he wouldn't leave her.
Nell had an effect on boys. It mystified her. It had started with Charlie, of course. She'd loved him as long as she'd known him. They'd spent the last few summers together, right here at Hubbard's Point. He was the wildest boy at the beach, like a mustang running free. No one had been able to tame him, no one but Nell. That's why he'd called her the Boy Whisperer. . . .
It still fit. Even though the beach boys all knew she was still in love with Charlie, they wanted to be with her. They wanted to tell her their secrets. She thought maybe it was the whisper of tragedy that surrounded her. Her mother had died when she was young. Her father had lost it big-time, until Nell had brought him together with Stevie Moore, the artist most people considered a witch. Now Stevie was virtually Nell's stepmother, and the beach boys probably thought her witchiness had rubbed off on Nell. They dreamed of sex spells. And after Charlie's murder, the boys had come flocking even more.
But Charlie had had the magic, too. He was the great-grandson of Aphrodite, the doyenne of Hubbard's Point beach magic. Her magic book had been the source of many of Charlie's mother's best songs, but not the inspiration for the film Charlie had wanted to make. As much as he...
Reviews
Publishers Weekly...
"An element of supernatural whimsy, a dark secret involving a trust fund and a disturbing question related to Charlie's estranged father, Randy, add complexity, while cameos from other Beach Girls characters contribute an engaging, homey touch."
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