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Elizabeth Lowell's acclaimed suspense novels include the New York Times bestsellers Death Echo, Blue Smoke and Murder, Innocent as Sin, The Wrong Hostage, Always Time to Die, The Color of Death, Die in Plain Sight, Running Scared, and Moving Target, as well as four books featuring the Donovan family: Amber Beach, Jade Island, Pearl Cove, and Midnight in Ruby Bayou. Lowell has more than thirty million books in print. She lives in Nevada with her husband, with whom she writes mystery novels under a pseudonym.
Las aclamadas novelas de suspenso de la autora Elizabeth Lowell incluyen varios bestsellers en la New York Times. Lowell ha vendido más de treinta millones de ejemplares. Vive con su esposo en Seattle, Washington y Sedona, Arizona, con quien escribe novelas de misterio bajo un seudónimo.
Her earliest work, from the 1970s, is science fiction and is written under her actual name, Ann Maxwell. The romances she and her husband began writing together in the early '90s are under the same name, because their publisher wanted a female author’s name on the cover. Their Southern California mystery series featuring the divorced lovers Fiddler and Fiora are written under A. E. Maxwell (Ann and Evan), while their joint novelization of the 1992 Val Kilmer movie Thunderheart is under the name Lowell Charters (his middle name and her maiden name.)
Her biggest solo success, the romance novels that have taken her repeatedly to The New York Times bestseller list, are credited to Elizabeth Lowell -- a combination of the couple’s middle names.
Lowell’s romances are noted for their sass and, of course, their sex. But her characterizations, particularly, draw high marks. "Elizabeth Lowell's talent is enormous," wrote The Romance Reader in its review of 1984's Forget Me Not. "She has made a well-deserved name for herself by crafting likable, plucky heroines and enigmatic but intelligent heroes." And, in 1996 the Chicago Tribune wrote, "The protagonist she has chosen for her hardcover debut, Winter Fire could give a Navy SEAL lessons in survival."
Lowell embarked on a popular series in 1997 with the publication of Amber Beach, which introduced readers to the Donovan family, titans in the menacing world of precious gemstones who must dodge murderers, thieves, and power-hungry governments to protect their business. Of the first in the series, Kirkus Reviews wrote, "A romance that offers all the sexual tension, adventure and squishy clichés that fans of the genre could possibly want."
When Lowell was getting started as sci-fi writer Ann Maxwell, she was writing on legal pads while caring for her two young children. Evan was a reporter for the Los Angeles Times, covering international crime. In the early 1980s, after he had already collaborated on three mystery novels with Lowell, Maxwell decided to quit daily journalism and write fiction full-time.
The couple has since become a cottage industry of genre fiction operating out of their Seattle-area home. They collaborate on some projects, go solo on others. Lowell has described a seven-day-a week work packed with deadlines, an organized effort that starts out with book outlines that typically take about a month to draft as well as character sketches. Then the writing begins.
"My fiction deals with problems of strength rather than problems of weakness," she told Contemporary Authors. There is no appeal or purpose for me in reading -- or writing -- fiction that portrays incessant, excruciating, and pointless pain in the lives of characters."
Two of the most intriguing time periods for Lowell are medieval England and the post-Civil War period in the American West. "In both cases it was a time of expanded possibilities for individuals, regardless of birth or heritage, to create a better life and, ultimately, a better world, from chaos," she told Contemporary Authors.
One Year Later
Palm Springs
Monday
Like much of the town, the law offices of Morton Hingham were left over from a more leisurely, luxuriant time. Second-story arched windows framed a view of low-roofed buildings, tall palm trees, and stony mountains that dwarfed everything human. Inside the reception area, creamy walls and rich green plants soothed the eye. Solid wood furniture gleamed with polish. The carpet was worn, but tastefully so, like a dowager princess.
The secretary-receptionist was the same. Her voice was crepe, irregular without being rough. "Ms. Charters? Mr. Hingham will see you now."
For a moment Serena stared blankly at the receptionist. In this cool, gracious room with its stately aura of law and civilization, it was hard for her to remember that her grandmother had died from a random act of violence of the kind more often associated with inner cities than with the desert's ageless wilderness.
Very few animals killed simply because they could. Homo sapiens was first among them.
"Thank you," Serena said in a husky voice.
The older woman nodded, ushered the client into Morton Hingham's office, and shut the door behind her.
A quick glance told Serena that the lawyer's office had shuttered windows and no visible wallpaper. Every vertical surface was concealed by books whose covers were as dull and dry as their titles. Various legal documents lay stacked haphazardly on Hingham's heavy desk. An array of computers along the far wall looked out of place amid all the leatherbound monuments to pastdecisions, writs, and opinions.
Hingham's swivel chair creaked and jerked when he stood to greet his client. Long past the age when other men retired, the lawyer kept his shrewd mind engaged with the trials and tangles of people generations younger than he was.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms. Charters," Hingham said, clearing his throat. "There is a particularly difficult custody case that..." He cleared his throat again.
"I understand," Serena said, a polite lie. "It doesn't matter." The truth. She had been quite willing to look out the windows at the mountains that had ringed her childhood and formed her adult dreams. "I take it that the State of California is ready to close the books on my grandmother's murder?"
"The books will never be closed until her killer is found. But, yes. I'm empowered as her executor to turn over to you all that remains of Lisbeth Charters's -- er, your grandmother's -- worldly goods. "
His use of her grandmother's real name -- Lisbeth Charters -- told Serena that her grandmother had trusted this man as she had trusted only one other person on earth: her granddaughter.
Then the rest of the sentence penetrated Serena's mind. She compressed her lips against bitter laughter. Worldly goods. Her grandmother had lived a simple, spartan life. Her reward had been a cruel, savage death.
"I see," Serena said neutrally. "Does the fact that I'm finally receiving my so-called inheritance mean that I'm no longer a suspect in G'mom's murder?"
The controlled anger beneath his client's voice made Hingham examine her more carefully. Middle height, casually dressed in blue jeans and an unusual woven jacket, a slender yet female body that once would have aroused him and even now interested him, red-gold hair in a long French braid down her back, triangular face with eyes as cool and measuring as a cat's. The papers in his hand told him that she was in her early thirties. Her face looked younger, though her oddly colored eyes held an unflinching power that belonged to an empress twice her age.
Lisbeth Serena Charters had had eyes like that. Violet blue. Wide-set. Fascinating.
Unnerving.
Hingham cleared his throat again. "You were never under serious suspicion, Ms. Charters. As the detective explained, it was simply routine to ascertain your whereabouts the night your grandmother died, especially as you were her sole surviving heir."
"The detective explained. It didn't change how I felt."
"Yes, well, it must have been very difficult for you."
"It still is. Even though G'mom and I weren't close, she was the only family I had."
And every day, Serena asked herself if she and her grandmother had been closer, would her grandmother still be alive?
There was no answer. There never would be.
Abruptly her hand moved in an impatient gesture. "Let's get this over with. I have work to do."
"Work?" Hingham glanced at the papers in his hand. "I understood that you were self-employed."
"Exactly. No time off for good behavior. My employer is a bitch."
A ghostly smile rearranged the wrinkles on the lawyer's face. "Would she mind if you took time for coffee?"
Serena smiled despite her unhappiness with the law, the legal profession, and the bureaucracy of the State of California. "Thanks, but I really should get back to Leucadia before the freeways turn into parking lots."
"Then if you'll be seated...?"
Despite the restlessness crackling along her nerves, Serena went to the wing chair that waited beside Hingham's desk. Outwardly calm, she forced herself to sit quietly. She had spent a lot of her life masking the energy and intelligence that poured through her with such force, they made other people nervous. Deliberately she leaned back into the chair, crossed her legs, and waited for the old lawyer to tell her what she already knew: her grandmother had no worldly goods worth mentioning.
Hingham's chair creaked sharply as he sat. "I take it you don't need all the ruffles and flourishes."
"Correct."
He nodded and shifted papers. "Your inheritance is what remains of the house and five acres it sits on. There are no liens nor outstanding debts." He handed a plat map and deed across the desk to Serena. "The taxes have been paid through last year. I filed for a reappraisal due to the fire."
Moving Target. Copyright © by Elizabeth Lowell. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.Like much of the town, the law offices of Morton Hingham were left over from a more leisurely, luxuriant time. Second-story arched windows framed a view of low-roofed buildings, tall palm trees, and stony mountains that dwarfed everything human. Inside the reception area, creamy walls and rich green plants soothed the eye. Solid wood furniture gleamed with polish. The carpet was worn, but tastefully so, like a dowager princess.
The secretary-receptionist was the same. Her voice was crepe, irregular without being rough. "Ms. Charters? Mr. Hingham will see you now."
For a moment Serena stared blankly at the receptionist. In this cool, gracious room with its stately aura of law and civilization, it was hard for her to remember that her grandmother had died from a random act of violence of the kind more often associated with inner cities than with the desert's ageless wilderness.
Very few animals killed simply because they could. Homo sapiens was first among them.
"Thank you," Serena said in a husky voice.
The older woman nodded, ushered the client into Morton Hingham's office, and shut the door behind her.
A quick glance told Serena that the lawyer's office had shuttered windows and no visible wallpaper. Every vertical surface was concealed by books whose covers were as dull and dry as their titles. Various legal documents lay stacked haphazardly on Hingham's heavy desk. An array of computers along the far wall looked out of place amid all the leatherboundmonuments to past decisions, writs, and opinions.
Hingham's swivel chair creaked and jerked when he stood to greet his client. Long past the age when other men retired, the lawyer kept his shrewd mind engaged with the trials and tangles of people generations younger than he was.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms. Charters," Hingham said, clearing his throat. "There is a particularly difficult custody case that..." He cleared his throat again.
"I understand," Serena said, a polite lie. "It doesn't matter." The truth. She had been quite willing to look out the windows at the mountains that had ringed her childhood and formed her adult dreams. "I take it that the State of California is ready to close the books on my grandmother's murder?"
"The books will never be closed until her killer is found. But, yes. I'm empowered as her executor to turn over to you all that remains of Lisbeth Charters's — er, your grandmother's — worldly goods. "
His use of her grandmother's real name — Lisbeth Charters — told Serena that her grandmother had trusted this man as she had trusted only one other person on earth: her granddaughter.
Then the rest of the sentence penetrated Serena's mind. She compressed her lips against bitter laughter. Worldly goods. Her grandmother had lived a simple, spartan life. Her reward had been a cruel, savage death.
"I see," Serena said neutrally. "Does the fact that I'm finally receiving my so-called inheritance mean that I'm no longer a suspect in G'mom's murder?"
The controlled anger beneath his client's voice made Hingham examine her more carefully. Middle height, casually dressed in blue jeans and an unusual woven jacket, a slender yet female body that once would have aroused him and even now interested him, red-gold hair in a long French braid down her back, triangular face with eyes as cool and measuring as a cat's. The papers in his hand told him that she was in her early thirties. Her face looked younger, though her oddly colored eyes held an unflinching power that belonged to an empress twice her age.
Lisbeth Serena Charters had had eyes like that. Violet blue. Wide-set. Fascinating.
Unnerving.
Hingham cleared his throat again. "You were never under serious suspicion, Ms. Charters. As the detective explained, it was simply routine to ascertain your whereabouts the night your grandmother died, especially as you were her sole surviving heir."
"The detective explained. It didn't change how I felt."
"Yes, well, it must have been very difficult for you."
"It still is. Even though G'mom and I weren't close, she was the only family I had."
And every day, Serena asked herself if she and her grandmother had been closer, would her grandmother still be alive?
There was no answer. There never would be.
Abruptly her hand moved in an impatient gesture. "Let's get this over with. I have work to do."
"Work?" Hingham glanced at the papers in his hand. "I understood that you were self-employed."
"Exactly. No time off for good behavior. My employer is a bitch."
A ghostly smile rearranged the wrinkles on the lawyer's face. "Would she mind if you took time for coffee?"
Serena smiled despite her unhappiness with the law, the legal profession, and the bureaucracy of the State of California. "Thanks, but I really should get back to Leucadia before the freeways turn into parking lots."
"Then if you'll be seated...?"
Despite the restlessness crackling along her nerves, Serena went to the wing chair that waited beside Hingham's desk. Outwardly calm, she forced herself to sit quietly. She had spent a lot of her life masking the energy and intelligence that poured through her with such force, they made other people nervous. Deliberately she leaned back into the chair, crossed her legs, and waited for the old lawyer to tell her what she already knew: her grandmother had no worldly goods worth mentioning.
Hingham's chair creaked sharply as he sat. "I take it you don't need all the ruffles and flourishes."
"Correct."
He nodded and shifted papers. "Your inheritance is what remains of the house and five acres it sits on. There are no liens nor outstanding debts." He handed a plat map and deed across the desk to Serena. "The taxes have been paid through last year. I filed for a reappraisal due to the fire."
Anonymous
Posted May 17, 2013
Brohoofs everywhere
/) /)
Lol my nook is spazing out and i cnt make proper brohooves lololol
Anonymous
Posted May 8, 2013
Luv the ending ;)
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Posted May 5, 2013
Prety good! Brohoof! /)(\
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Posted May 8, 2013
Rarity woke up in her bed. She looked at the clock. "Oh dear I must get down to the picnic!" she exclaimed. She galloped down to Twilight's house and caught up to them jut as they were about to take off. They all looked at her and laughed. "What's so funny?" Rarity asked. "Oh my Rarity you look like a clown!" Pinkie Pie laughed. "I've got an idea!" Rainbow Dash exclaimed while laughing, and she flew off and came back with a grey cloud. She positioned it over Rarity's head then jumped on it. It rained all over Rarity and the others continued to laugh. "What's so funny?" Rarity was genuinely confused. Rainbow Dash looked at Rarity from upside down and laughed. "I think that made it worse guys," she giggled. Twilight held up a mirror for Rarity to see. She gasped when she saw herself, then tarted to laugh. "You're right Pinkie I do look like a clown!" Rarity laughed. Her hair was poofed up in an afro and her hair curlers were stuck in her hair. Twilight levitated a brush toward Rarity and Rarity brushed her hair, still laughing at herself. They all had a wonderful picnic. When the picnic was over, they all went their separate ways, and promised they would always be friends no matter what. Then Rarity found the blue police box and went back to the future. ••••••• Rarity woke up in Ponyville and trotted outside. All her friends were waiting for her. She galloped up to them and they all hugged each other. "I'm so glad you guys are all my friends!" she said, and they all trotted off to their Pet Playdate in the park. ~THE END!!!!! Hope you liked! The first chapter will be rewritten in the next result because the result it was in disappeared. ~RD 8\/\
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Posted September 29, 2008
I just finished Moving Target...a great read. I've read several of Lowell's books, and this one was a pleasure (as were the others). A little mystique is inter-twined with the mystery. Lowell does a great job of weaving the two together into a story that keeps you wanting to keep reading to find out what happens next. The ending is a good one--no peeking ahead! Be sure to read the Author's Note at the end, but don't read it until you've finished the whole book. You'll be fascinated by that story.
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Posted December 27, 2004
I found'Moving target'quite fascinating. Elizabeth Lowell really knows how to keep the suspense coming. I really didn't want to put the book down.It was a spine-tingler.I always look forward to reading this author's work.
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Posted December 4, 2003
I've never written an online review before, but this book was too good to let it go without comment. Ms. Lowell had me well caught by the end of the prologue! Ancient history, witches and long-forgotten sorcery interwoven with modern plotting and spiced with love and romance. What more could a reader want!
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Posted February 22, 2003
This was one of my favorites, couldn't put it down! It combined some of the magic of her Medieval series along with a connection to the present and the Donovan family, I can't wait for the next book!
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Posted May 19, 2002
Serena Charters doesn¿t know who to trust. After the murder of her grandmother a year ago, the estate has just been settled on her. An estate that includes four leaves from an illuminated manuscript that she has no idea of it¿s value, or even if it¿s authentic. So taking the suggestion of her late grandmother¿s attorney, she contacts two reputable sources to get appraisals; The House of Warrick, a renowned auction house, and Erik North, a reputed expert on illuminated manuscripts. With The House of Warrick accusing her of trying to push off forgeries, Serena doesn¿t know where to turn, or if she should give Erik North even a shot at looking at the pages. She¿s beginning to think that there was a lot more to her grandmother¿s murder than anyone realized. Erik North, and independent appraiser of illuminated manuscripts for Rarities Unlimited, has spent almost his entire life being enthralled by `The Book of The Learned¿, a book of illuminated manuscript pages that had no definite origins, and no one seemed to know where the full book was. When he hears of the four loose manuscript pages out there, he immediately wants to see them, no matter the cost. He¿s thrilled when a package shows up on his door. Even with the poor copies, Erik is sure that these are pages of The Book of The Learned. He begins to try to contact Serena, which is somewhat frustrating, since he has no luck. When he finally does run her down, he¿s astounded that she¿s in actual fear for her life. The mystery deepens when he does see the pages, and knows these are no forgeries. Taking Serena¿s care into his own, they set out to uncover the mystery of not only her grandmother¿s death, but the whereabouts of the actual Book of The Learned. Erik and Serena quickly realize that they have an attachment to one another, something even deeper than the sexual pull they felt immediately. As the action heats up, so too does the relationship develop between the two, who both have trust problems. There relationship is wonderful to watch unfold. Ms. Lowell has penned the most incredible page-turner! The action hooked me from page one, and it was all I could do to put this book down and go to sleep. The characters are so real they breathe life into this story, and the plot is so superbly woven; you don¿t even realize how deep it is until she drops a shocker on you. With undercurrents of reincarnation subtly threaded through, Ms. Lowell shows us exactly why she continues to top the charts. This is an absolute MUST read, and for me, it¿s a MUST rush out and get the sequel, Running Scared, which is available in hard back now.
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Posted July 2, 2002
Moving Target indeed moves very quickly. Engaging characters, intriguing plot, a wonderful story.
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Posted October 29, 2001
Ms. Lowell once again writes a fast-paced and intriguing story that grabs the reader's attention from the first page to the end. Very hard to put down. Highly recommended.
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Posted June 22, 2001
You can read the other reviews to get the basic plot of the Moving Target. I just wanted to let Elizabeth Lowell fans know that the Donovans, April Joy from Amber Beach, Ruby Bayeau, Pearl Cove and Jade Island;and Erik and Serena from the medieval books Untamed, Enchanted and Forbidden, show up in interesting ways. You don't have to know who they are to enjoy the story, but I wanted to dig out my old books/
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Posted May 26, 2011
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Overview
These are the troubling words Serena Charters's grandmother has written on a note accompanying four pages of a centuries-old illuminated manuscript delivered after the old woman's passing. That the strange inheritance has considerable worth seems obvious -- but what Serena doesn't realize is how many secrets it hides...and how many lives it has already cost.
Seeking answers, she turns for professional ...