Southern Lights

Informationen zum Autor Danielle Steel Klappentext Danielle Steel sweeps us from a Manhattan courtroom to the Deep South in her powerful new novel-at once a behind-closed-doors look into the heart of a family and a tale of crime and punishment. SOUTHERN LIGHTS Eleven years have passed since Alexa Hamilton left the South behind, fleeing the pain of her ex-husband's betrayal and the cruelty of his prominent Charleston family. Now an assistant D.A. in Manhattan, Alexa has finally put her demons to rest, raising her daughter alone and making a name for herself as a top prosecutor taking on some of the city's toughest cases. But as Alexa prepares for her latest case, the high-stakes trial of accused serial killer Luke Quentin, threatening letters addressed to Savannah, her beautiful seventeen-year-old daughter, throw Alexa's private life into turmoil. Certain that Quentin is behind the letters, Alexa must make the toughest choice of all: to send her daughter back to her ex-husband's world of southern tradition and memories of betrayal. While Alexa's trial builds to a climax in New York, her daughter settles into southern life, discovering a father and family history she barely knows. As secrets are exposed and old wounds are healed, Alexa and Savannah, after a season in different worlds, will come together again - strengthened by the challenges they have faced and changed by the mysteries they have unraveled. From the gritty chaos of Manhattan's criminal court system to the seductive gentility of the South, from the rage of a hardened criminal to the tender bond between a mother and a daughter, Southern Lights will catch you off guard at every turn. Chapter One The man sitting in the threadbare chair with the stuffing pouring out of it appeared to be dozing, his chin drifting slowly toward his chest. He was tall and powerfully built with a tattoo of a snake peering out of his shirt on the back of his neck as his head shifted down. His long arms seemed lifeless on the arms of his chair in the small dark room. There was an evil cooking odor coming from the hallway and the television was on. A narrow unmade bed stood in the corner of the room, covering most of the filthy, stained shag carpet. The drawers of a chest were pulled open and the few clothes he had brought with him were on the floor. He was wearing a T-shirt, heavy boots, and jeans, and the mud encrusted on his soles had dried and was flaking into the carpet. As peacefully as he had been sleeping, suddenly he was wide awake. He jerked his head up with a snort, and his ice-blue eyes flew open, as the hair stood up on his arms. He had an uncanny sense of hearing. He closed his eyes again as he listened, and then stood up and grabbed his jacket with a single stride across the narrow room. With his head erect, the snake tattoo disappeared back into his shirt. Luke Quentin slipped quietly over the windowsill and made his way down the fire escape after closing the window behind him. It was freezing cold. January in New York. He had been in town for two weeks. Before that, he had been in Alabama, Mississippi, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Iowa, Illinois, Kentucky. He had visited a friend in Texas. He had been traveling for months. He got work where he could find it. He didn't need much to live on. He moved with the stealth of a panther, and was walking down the street on the Lower East Side, before the men he had heard coming reached his room. He didn't know who they were, but he was smarter than to take a chance. They were cops more than likely. He had been in prison twice, for credit card fraud and robbery, and he was well aware that ex-cons never got a fair shake, from anyone. His friends from prison called him Q. He stopped to buy a paper and a sandwich, shivered in the cold, and went for a walk. In another world, he would have been considered handsome. He had huge powerful should...

Autorentext

Danielle Steel

Klappentext

Danielle Steel sweeps us from a Manhattan courtroom to the Deep South in her powerful new novel-at once a behind-closed-doors look into the heart of a family and a tale of crime and punishment.

SOUTHERN LIGHTS

Eleven years have passed since Alexa Hamilton left the South behind, fleeing the pain of her ex-husband's betrayal and the cruelty of his prominent Charleston family. Now an assistant D.A. in Manhattan, Alexa has finally put her demons to rest, raising her daughter alone and making a name for herself as a top prosecutor taking on some of the city's toughest cases.

But as Alexa prepares for her latest case, the high-stakes trial of accused serial killer Luke Quentin, threatening letters addressed to Savannah, her beautiful seventeen-year-old daughter, throw Alexa's private life into turmoil. Certain that Quentin is behind the letters, Alexa must make the toughest choice of all: to send her daughter back to her ex-husband's world of southern tradition and memories of betrayal.

While Alexa's trial builds to a climax in New York, her daughter settles into southern life, discovering a father and family history she barely knows. As secrets are exposed and old wounds are healed, Alexa and Savannah, after a season in different worlds, will come together again - strengthened by the challenges they have faced and changed by the mysteries they have unraveled.

From the gritty chaos of Manhattan's criminal court system to the seductive gentility of the South, from the rage of a hardened criminal to the tender bond between a mother and a daughter, Southern Lights will catch you off guard at every turn.

Leseprobe
*Chapter One

The man sitting in the threadbare chair with the stuffing pouring out of it appeared to be dozing, his chin drifting slowly toward his chest. He was tall and powerfully built with a tattoo of a snake peering out of his shirt on the back of his neck as his head shifted down. His long arms seemed lifeless on the arms of his chair in the small dark room. There was an evil cooking odor coming from the hallway and the television was on. A narrow unmade bed stood in the corner of the room, covering most of the filthy, stained shag carpet. The drawers of a chest were pulled open and the few clothes he had brought with him were on the floor. He was wearing a T-shirt, heavy boots, and jeans, and the mud encrusted on his soles had dried and was flaking into the carpet. As peacefully as he had been sleeping, suddenly he was wide awake. He jerked his head up with a snort, and his ice-blue eyes flew open, as the hair stood up on his arms. He had an uncanny sense of hearing. He closed his eyes again as he listened, and then stood up and grabbed his jacket with a single stride across the narrow room. With his head erect, the snake tattoo disappeared back into his shirt.

Luke Quentin slipped quietly over the windowsill and made his way down the fire escape after closing the window behind him. It was freezing cold. January in New York. He had been in town for two weeks. Before that, he had been in Alabama, Mississippi, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Iowa, Illinois, Kentucky. He had visited a friend in Texas. He had been traveling for months. He got work where he could find it. He didn't need much to live on. He moved with the stealth of a panther, and was walking down the street on the Lower East Side, before the men he had heard coming reached his room. He didn't know who they were, but he was smarter than to take a chance. They were cops more than likely. He had been in prison twice, for credit card fraud and robbery, and he was well aware that ex-cons never got a fair shake, from anyone. His friends from prison called him Q.

He stopped to buy a paper and a sandwich, shivered in the cold, and went for a walk. In another world, he would have been considered handsome. He had huge powerful shoulders, and a chiseled face. He was thirty-four years old and, with both sentences, had done a total of ten years. He had s…