Tributeby Nora Roberts
Cilla McGowan, a former child star, has found a more satisfying life restoring homes. So she comes to Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley to save the dilapidated farmhouse of her/b>/i>
A young woman gets caught up in the secrets and shadows of a big-screen legend and a small-town scandal in this #1 New York Times bestseller from Nora Roberts.
Cilla McGowan, a former child star, has found a more satisfying life restoring homes. So she comes to Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley to save the dilapidated farmhouse of her grandmother—a legendary actress who died of an overdose there more than thirty years ago.
Plunging into the project with gusto, Cilla’s almost too busy and exhausted to notice her neighbor, graphic novelist Ford Sawyer. Determined not to carry on the family tradition of ill-fated romances, Cilla steels herself against Ford’s quirky charm, though she can’t help indulging in a little fantasy.
But it’s reality that holds its share of dangers for Cilla. A cache of unsigned letters found in the attic points to a mysterious romance in her grandmother’s life, and may be what sparks a frightening, violent assault. Now, if Cilla and Ford are unable to sort out who is targeting her and why, she may, just like her world-famous grandmother, be cut down in the prime of her life.
Roberts sets her underwhelming latest in Virginia's Shenandoah Valley, where former child star Cilla McGowan rehabs her famous grandmother's long-neglected farm. Cilla's movie-star grandmother, the Marilyn Monroe-like Janet Hardy, who died mysteriously on the farm at age 39, haunts Cilla as she transforms the former hideaway of the rich and famous into habitable living space and tries to resolve whether Janet committed suicide or was murdered. While cleaning out the attic, Cilla unearths a collection of unsigned love letters to Janet from a local suitor, which adds spice to the puzzle of Janet's death. Meanwhile, Cilla's hunky graphic novelist neighbor, Ford Sawyer, provides the requisite sizzle and encourages Cilla to follow her dream of becoming a top-notch building contractor-much to the dismay of Cilla's headline-hungry diva mother. Amid the demolition and sheet rocking, Cilla comes up against a disgruntled local, and a series of unnerving threats and occurrences (vandalism, torched Cilla dolls) almost unhinges Cilla. The terror tactics (and the revelation of who is behind them) are half-baked and distract from what's ostensibly a girl meets boy, boy wants girl, girl finally wants boy story. (July)Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
“Another gem by Roberts.”—Detroit Free Press
“From start to finish, Tribute keeps readers guessing...an enticing thriller.”—The Oklahoman
“Warning: Do not begin this book late in the day unless you plan to pull an all-nighter. Because once you start Tribute, you won’t want to put it down.”—The State (Columbia, SC)
“A well-written book about interesting characters and the complexities of life, and it lives up to the quality readers expect from the author.”—The Post and Courier (Charleston, SC)
“Once again the extraordinarily imaginative, prolific, and popular Roberts creates a cast of magnetic and superbly nuanced characters and a cleverly ordered plot spiced with subtle suspense and sexy romance.”—Booklist
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Read an Excerpt
According to legend, Steve McQueen once swam buck-naked among the cattails and lily pads in the pond at the Little Farm. If true, and Cilla liked to think it was, the King of Cool had stripped off and dived in post The Magnificent Seven and prior to The Great Escape.
In some versions of the legend, Steve had done more than cool off on that muggy summer night in Virginia—and he'd done the more with Cilla's grandmother. Though they'd both been married to other people at the time, the legend carried more cheer than disdain. And since both parties were long dead, neither could confirm or deny.
Then again, Cilla thought as she studied the murky water of the lily-choked pond, neither had bothered—as far as she could ascertain—to confirm or deny while they'd had the chance.
True or false, she imagined Janet Hardy, the glamorous, the tragic, the brilliant, the troubled, had enjoyed the buzz. Even icons had to get their kicks somewhere.
Standing in the yellow glare of sun with the dulling bite of March chilling her face, Cilla could see it perfectly. The steamy summer night, the blue wash from the spotlight moon. The gardens would've been at their magnificent peak and stunning the air with fragrance. The water would've been so cool and silky on the skin, and the color of chamomile tea with pink and white blossoms strung over it like glossy pearls.
Janet would have been at her stunning peak as well, Cilla mused. The spun-gold of her hair tumbling free, spilling over white shoulders... No, those would have been spun-gold, too, from her summer tan. Gilded shoulders in the tea-colored water, and her Arctic-blue eyes bright with laughter—and most likely a heroic consumption of liquor.
Music darting and sparkling through the dark, like the fireflies that flashed over the fertile fields, the velvet lawns, Cilla imagined. The voices from the weekend guests who wandered over the lawns, the porches and patios as bright as the music. Stars as luminous as the ones that gleamed overhead like little jewels scattered away from that spotlight moon.
Dark pockets of shadows, streaming colored lights from lanterns.
Yes, it would've been like that. Janet's world had been one of brilliant light and utter dark. Always.
Cilla hoped she dove into that pond unapologetically naked, drunk and foolish and happy. And utterly unaware her crowded, desperate, glorious life would end barely a decade later.
Before turning away from the pond, Cilla listed it in her thick notebook. It would need to be cleaned, tested and ecologically balanced. She made another note to read up on pond management and maintenance before she attempted to do so, or hired an expert.
Then the gardens. Or what was left of them, she thought as she crossed through the high, lumpy grass. Weeds, literal blankets of vines, overgrown shrubs with branches poking through the blankets like brown bones, marred what had once been simply stupendous. Another metaphor, she supposed, for the bright and beautiful choked off and buried in the grasping.
She'd need help with this part, she decided. Considerable help. However much she wanted to put her back into this project, get her hands into it, she couldn't possibly clear and hack, slash and burn, and redesign on her own.
The budget would have to include a landscaping crew. She noted down the need to study old photographs of the gardens, to buy some books on landscaping to educate herself, and to contact local landscapers for bids.
Standing, she scanned the ruined lawns, the sagging fences, the sad old barn that stood soot gray and scarred from weather. There had been chickens once—or so she'd been told—a couple of pretty horses, tidy fields of crops, a small, thriving grove of fruit trees. She wanted to believe—maybe needed to believe—she could bring all that back. That by the next spring, and all the springs after, she could stand here and look at all the budding, the blooming, the business of what had been her grandmother's.
Of what was now hers.
She saw how it was, and how it once had been through her own Arctic-blue eyes shaded by the bill of a Rock the House ball cap. Her hair, more honey than gold dust, threaded through the back of the cap in a long, messy tail. She wore a thick hooded sweatshirt over strong shoulders and a long torso, faded jeans over long legs, and boots she'd bought years before for a hiking trip through the Blue Ridge Mountains. The same mountains that rolled up against the sky now.
Years ago, she thought. The last time she'd come east, come here. And when, she supposed, the seeds for what she would do now had been planted.
Didn't that make the last four—or was it five—years of neglect at least partially her doing? She could've pushed sooner, could have demanded. She could have done something.
"Doing it now," she reminded herself. She wouldn't regret the delay any more than she would regret the manipulation and bitter arguments she'd used to force her mother to sign over the property.
"Yours now, Cilla," she told herself. "Don't screw it up."
She turned, braced herself, then made her way through the high grass and brambles to the old farmhouse where Janet Hardy had hosted sparkling parties, or had escaped to between roles. And where, in 1973, on another steamy summer night, she took her own life.
So claimed the legend.
There were ghosts. Sensing them was nearly as exhausting as evaluating the ramshackle three stories, facing the grime, the dust, the disheartening disrepair. Ghosts, Cilla supposed, had kept the vandalism and squatting to a minimum. Legends, she thought, had their uses.
She'd had the electricity turned back on, and had brought plenty of lightbulbs along with what she hoped would be enough cleaning supplies to get her started. She'd applied for her permits and researched local contractors.
Now, it was time to start something.
Lining up her priorities, she tackled the first of the four bathrooms that hadn't seen a scrub brush in the last six years.
And she suspected the last tenants hadn't bothered overmuch with such niceties during their stint.
"Could be more disgusting," she muttered as she scraped and scrubbed. "Could be snakes and rats. And God, shut up. You're asking for them."
After two sweaty hours and emptying countless buckets of filthy water, she thought she could risk using the facilities without being inoculated first. Chugging bottled water, she headed down the back stairs to have a whack at the big farmhouse kitchen next. And eyeing the baby-blue-on-white laminate on the stubby counters, she wondered whose idea that update had been, and why they'd assumed it would suit the marvelous old O'Keefe & Merritt range and Coldspot refrigerator.
Aesthetically, the room was over the line of hideous, but sanitary had to take precedence.
She braced the back door open for ventilation, tugged rubber gloves back on and very gingerly opened the oven door.
While the best part of a can of oven cleaner went to work, she tackled the oven racks, the burners, the stove top and hood. A photograph flitted through her memory. Janet, a frilly apron over a wasp-waisted dress, sunlight hair pulled back in a sassy tail, stirring something in a big pot on the stove. Smiling at the camera while her two children looked on adoringly.
Publicity shoot, Cilla remembered. For one of the women's magazines. Redbook or McCall's. The old farmhouse stove, with its center grill, had sparkled like new hope. It would again, she vowed. One day, she'd stir a pot on that same stove with probably as much faked competence as her grandmother.
She started to squat down to check the oven cleaner, then yipped in surprise when she heard her name.
He stood in the open doorway, with sunlight haloing his silvered blond hair. His smile deepened the creases in his face, still so handsome, and warmed those quiet hazel eyes.
Her heart took a bound from surprise to pleasure, and another into embarrassment.
When he stepped forward, arms opening for a hug, she tossed up her hands, wheeled back. "No, don't. I'm absolutely disgusting. Covered with... I don't even want to know." She swiped the back of her wrist over her forehead, then fumbled off the protective gloves. "Dad," she repeated.
"I see a clean spot." He lifted her chin with his hand, kissed her cheek. "Look at you."
"I wish you wouldn't." But she laughed as most of the initial awkwardness passed. "What are you doing here?"
"Somebody recognized you in town when you stopped for supplies and said something to Patty. And Patty," he continued, referring to his wife, "called me. Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"
"I was going to. I mean I was going to call you." At some point. Eventually. When I figured out what to say. "I just wanted to get here first, then I... " She glanced back at the oven. "I got caught up."
"So I see. When did you get in?"
Guilt pricked her conscience. "Listen, let's go out on the front porch. It's not too bad out front, and I have a cooler sitting out there holding a cold-cut sub with our names on it. Just let me wash up, then we'll catch up."
It wasn't as bad in front, Cilla thought when she settled on the sagging steps with her father, but it was bad enough. The overgrown, weedy lawn and gardens, the trio of misshaped Bradford pears, a wild tangle of what she thought might be wisteria could all be dealt with. Would be. But the wonderful old magnolia rose, dense with its deep, glossy leaves, and stubborn daffodils shoved up through the thorny armor of climbing roses along the stone walls.
"I'm sorry I didn't call," Cilla began as she handed her father a bottle of iced tea to go with half the sub. "I'm sorry I haven't called."
He patted her knee, opened her bottle, then his own.
It was so like him, she thought. Gavin McGowan took things as they came—the good, the bad, the mediocre. How he'd ever fallen for the emotional morass that was her mother eluded her. But that was long ago, Cilla mused, and far away.
She bit into her portion of the sub. "I'm a bad daughter."
"The worst," he said, and made her laugh.
"Second worst. How's your mother?"
Cilla bit into her sub, rolled her eyes. "Lizzy's definitely running behind me on Mom's scale at the moment. Otherwise, she's okay. Number Five's putting together a cabaret act for her." At her father's quiet look, Cilla shrugged. "I think when your marriages average a three-year life span, assigning numbers to husbands is practical and efficient. He's okay. Better than Numbers Four and Two, and considerably smarter than Number Three. And he's the reason I'm sitting here sharing a sub with the never-to-be-matched Number One."
"Putting the song and dance together requires money. I had some money."
"Wait, wait. I had some money, and she had something I wanted. I wanted this place, Dad. I've wanted it for a while now."
"Yeah, I bought the farm." Cilla tossed back her head and laughed. "And she's so pissed at me. She didn't want it, God knows. I mean, look at it. She hasn't been out here in years, in decades, and she fired every manager, every overseer, every custodian. She wouldn't give it to me, and it was my mistake to ask her for it a couple years ago. She wouldn't sell it to me then, either."
She took another bite of the sub, enjoying it now. "I got the tragedy face, the spiel about Janet. But now she needed seed money and wanted me to invest. Big no on that followed by big fight, much drama. I told her, and Number Five, I'd buy this place, named an amount and made it clear that was firm."
"She sold it to you. She sold you the Little Farm."
"After much gnashing of teeth, much weeping, various sorrowful opinions on my daughterly behavior since the day I was born. And so on. It doesn't matter." Or hardly mattered, Cilla thought. "She didn't want it; I did. She'd have sold it long before this if it hadn't been tied up in trusts. It could only be sold and transferred to family until, what, 2012? Anyway, Number Five calmed her down, and everyone got what they wanted."
"What are you going to do with it, Cilla?"
Live, she thought. Breathe. "Do you remember it, Dad? I've only seen the pictures and old home movies, but you were here when it was in its prime. When the grounds were gorgeous and the porches gleaming. When it had character and grace. That's what I'm going to do with it. I'm going to bring it back."
She heard the unspoken How? and told herself it didn't matter that he didn't know what she could do. Or hardly mattered.
"Because it deserves better than this. Because I think Janet Hardy deserves better than this. And because I can. I've been flipping houses for almost five years now. Two years pretty much on my own. I know none of them was on the scale of this, but I have a knack for it. I've made a solid profit on my projects."
"Are you doing this for profit?"
"I may change my mind in the next four years, but for now? No. I never knew Janet, but she's influenced almost every area of my life. Something about this place pulled her here, even at the end. Something about it pulls me."
"It's a long way from what you've known," Gavin said. "Not just the miles, but the atmosphere. The culture. The Shenandoah Valley, this part of it, is still fairly rural. Skyline Village boasts a few thousand people, and even in the larger cities like Front Royal and Culpepper, it's far and away from L.A."
"I guess I want to explore that, and I want to spend more time with my East Coast roots." She wished he'd be pleased instead of concerned that she'd fail or give up. Again.
"I'm tired of California, I'm tired of all of it, Dad. I never wanted what Mom wanted, for me or for herself."
"I know, sweetie."
"So I'll live here for a while."
"Here?" Shock covered his face. "Live here? At the Little Farm?"
"I know, crazy. But I've done plenty of camping, which is what this'll be for a few days anyway. Then I can rough it inside for a while longer. It'll take about nine, ten months, maybe a year to do the rehab, to do it right. At the end of that, I'll know if I want to stay or move on. If it's moving on, I'll figure out what to do about it then. But right now, Dad, I'm tired of moving on."
Gavin said nothing for a moment, then draped his arm around Cilla's shoulders. Did he have any idea, she wondered, what that casual show of support meant to her? How could he?
"It was beautiful here, beautiful and hopeful and happy," he told her. "Horses grazing, her dog napping in the sun. The flowers were lovely. Janet did some of the gardening herself when she was here, I think. She came here to relax, she said. And she would, for short stretches. But then she needed people—that's my take on it. She needed the noise and the laughter, the light. But now and again, she came out alone. No friends, no family, no press. I always wondered what she did during those solo visits."
"You met Mom here."
"I did. We were just children, and Janet had a party for Dilly and Johnnie. She invited a lot of local children. Janet took to me, so I was invited back whenever they were here. Johnnie and I played together, and stayed friends when we hit our teens, though he began to run with a different sort of crowd. Then Johnnie died. He died, and everything went dark. Janet came here alone more often after that. I'd climb the wall to see if she was here, if Dilly was with her, when I was home from college. I'd see her walking alone, or see the lights on. I spoke to her a few times, three or four times, after Johnnie died. Then she was gone. Nothing here's been the same since.
"It does deserve better," he said with a sigh. "And so does she. You're the one who should try to give it to them. You may be the only one who can."
"Patty and I will help. You should come stay with us until this place is habitable."
"I'll take you up on the help, but I want to stay here. Get a feel for the place. I've done some research on it, but I could use some recommendations for local labor—skilled and not. Plumbers, electricians, carpenters, landscapers. And just people with strong backs who can follow directions."
"Get your notebook."
She pushed to her feet, started inside, then turned back. "Dad, if things had worked out between you and Mom, would you have stayed in the business? Stayed in L.A.?"
"Maybe. But I was never happy there. Or I wasn't happy there for long. And I wasn't a comfortable actor."
"You were good."
"Good enough," he said with a smile. "But I didn't want what Dilly wanted, for herself or for me. So I understand what you meant when you said the same. It's not her fault, Cilla, that we wanted something else."
"You found what you wanted here."
"That doesn't mean I will, too," she said. "I know. But I just might."
Meet the Author
Nora Roberts is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of more than 200 novels. She is also the author of the bestselling In Death series written under the pen name J. D. Robb. There are more than 500 million copies of her books in print.
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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Cilla McGowen was raised in the spotlight. Her Grandmother was the famous Janet Hardy; a child star turned Hollywood actress and famous singer. Her mother, Dilly, wasn't quite as famous as Janet but managed to stay in the Hollywood spotlight all her life. From a very young age Cilla was thrust in front of the cameras by her mom. She was part of a successful TV show, made a few records, but by the time she was an adult she was pretty much a has-been.
Happy to be out of the public life, Cilla now makes her money flipping houses; it is a labor of love. Finally getting her hands on her famous Grandmothers long neglected farm, Cilla is rehabbing to make herself a home. Questions surround her Grandmothers too early death and as Cilla repairs the house, she seeks answers. But someone doesn't want Cilla around and is making things very difficult for her, her friends and workers. Finding a friend and an unexpected love in her graphic novelist neighbor, Ford Sawyer, Cilla gets some much needed TLC.
This is a lengthy new novel by Nora Roberts, but amazingly enough I flew through 451 pages, easily, I absolutely loved it.
What Nora does better than anyone is create unforgettable and magnificent characters. This book is filled with people who are written so well, you can see them so clearly and you feel like you know them. Every character in this book added something to this story; love, sex, fear, annoyance, growth, laughter, and sadness. You get as invested with the side characters as you do with the main characters. I love that about her work
Cilla is a heroine not without flaws; she's both hard and soft and has been emotionally drained. She's personable and knows her strengths and weaknesses. I found her extremely relatable. Ford was funny, charming and sexy. It took me all about a page to fall for him and his crazy dog.
The story is strong and takes the reader through past and present day at the farm with clever little visits from the Grandmother. Uncovering the secrets of the past and dealing with the danger of the present lead you through a suspenseful and gripping read. I admit I knew who did it pretty much from the start, but Nora added a little something extra that threw me off and added plenty of surprise at the end.
This book has everything; a solid mystery, a love story, humor and healing. I really enjoyed it.. This book showcases every reason why I love Nora Roberts writing so much!!!!
I enjoyed this book so much! I have read most of Nora Roberts's books and this one kept me entertained for hours.
TRIBUTE IS A WONDERFUL STORY ABOUT FAMILY AND BUILDING A "HOME". FOR A PERSON WHO NEVER HAD A HOME THE CHARACTER LEARNS WHAT IS IMPORTANT IN LIFE WHICH ISN'T ALWAYS BLOOD, BUT MAKING A PLACE FOR YOURSELF AND FINDING OUT WHAT REALLY MATTERS. IT KEPT ME GUESSING TILL THE END, AND THINKING I HAD FIGURED IT OUT, WHICH I HADN'T. MY ONLY REGRET IS THAT THE STORY HAD TO END. I LOVE NORA AND HER ALTER JD ROBB.
Incredible read. Tribute was a hard book to put down. As is usual with Nora Roberts it was a very well written story. I was drawn in from the first page....agonizing over the terrorism of Cilla and the mystery of Janet's death. In the end you'll think "I didn't see that one coming."
I have not cared for the newer Nora Roberts books, such as the garden trilogy(characters not very interesting), but this one is Nora at her best!It is more in the style of "Sanctuary", a story that is rooted in the past but still imposing on the present day lives of the characters. The male lead character is wonderful - you feel like you know this guy and he is not super strong or incredibly beautiful - just a real guy with an interesting and believable career. And I must mention his dog who is truly an enjoyable part of this story. This book also has lots of humour and wit and credible situations - one of the books that you sort of hate to see end because you want just a few more chapters! Truly an enjoyable read - a great book to escape with. Also if you have ever done a remodel project you will strongly relate to some of the scenes!
I was looking for a book which fell into the type of book I love. I like some of the old Barbara Michaels books, which normally involve an old house or mansion where the attic is being cleared out, a one hundred year old unsolved mystery with a strong female character who ends up in love. Gothic ghosty mysterys. I chose this book because it had some of those qualities not knowing anything about the author. I found that I loved this book and the writers style. I am looking forward to reading more of NR's books. The characters I fell in love with and I loved living in their world for a short period of time. My only sadness was that when it ended, I no longer got to live in that world in my readings. I had read a Nora Roberts book once before, but I just found that out looking for some other books to purchase. I had read the Blue Dahlia, which was good, but not one where i looked up who the author was, which is why I didn't even know she wrote it. I hope some of her other books are similar if not better than Tribute.
Another excellent read from Nora Roberts. This time our heroine has a very interesting past. A good novel for young minds to see that 'fame' is not everything and with it comes many trials. This is a book with a strong single woman has it's central character. enjoy!
This one is fascinating and interesting and I agree with the good reviews!! While reviewing, I feel the need to recommend a book, E X P L O S I O N I N P A R I S , by LINDA MASEMORE PIRRUNG, that I absolutely fell in love with!! It should be on every woman's book club list!! Check out the reviews and you'll be hooked, as I was!!! EXPLOSION IN PARIS!!!
Great reading, fun characters, and cute. Warm. You won't be sorry.
Another amazing Nora Robert book. I love Cilla Mcgowan, she was born into a star filled family but prefers to restore houses and she goes to her deceased grandmother's farm to restore it and find a piece of her life she feels like she is missing, and to maybe even figure out what really happened to her grandmother the beautiful Janet Hardy. She meets her neighbor Ford Sawyer who is a comic book writer. This story will keep you interested from the 1st page all the way to the last
I love this book. I never put it down and I read it for 24 hours straight. I would recommened this book to anybody! I love Nora Roberts and wish to meet her someday! MUST READ!
While remodeling her grandmother's house, she becomes the center of a killer's attention. They want her gone and out of the town... and quick! After countless warnings to make her leave, the killer has no choice but to confront her for the last final time! For every attempt the killer makes to get her to leave, you can't help but wonder what will happen next! And because of that, this book is readable in a day (although your washing will not get done and your house will not be clean... but it's sooo worth it!).
This is a great book. I saw the movie and had to have the book. And the book is so much better than the movie. A real page turner. I couldn't put it down. True to Nora Roberts.
This was such an exciting story building in passion and mystery. Cilla leaves Hollywood to find a new life and answers to questions about her grandmother's death. She is restoring the farm owned by her grandmother - who had found happiness there and where she committed suicide. While Cilla goes full steam ahead with a crew of engineers and herself to bring the farm to life her neighbor Ford Sawyer eases his way into her life - a handsome, nice and successful graphic novelist who is willing to let the relationship be paced by Cilla who is wary of love. Things get dangerous for Cilla as someone damages the work she has done in an attempt to threaten Cilla or drive her away - they almost succeed. Ford shines like a hero and he helps put the peaces of the puzzle together. However, the person doing these things nearly accomplishes their mission. The ending is very good.
Love Nora Roberts ability to twist the tale with Mystery & romance. Great story telling. Keeps me coming back for more!!!!
Nora Roberts continues to be my favorite author. The stories are always different and interesting. She researches the details of the subject so you learn something as well as just enjoy the story. The characters are well-developed and she always leaves me wanting more.
I cannot stand the rhetoric you have to endure on the radio so listening to audiobooks while skirting about town in my car has become my favorite way to pass time. I found Jennifer Van Dyck's reading of this book extraordinary. She actually made the characters come to life and seem like real people. I have a lot of Nora Roberts' books and some are on CD's. I believe this to be one of the best of these and I give a lot of the credit for this to Ms.Van Dyck. I do not know if I would have enjoyed it nearly as much if I had read the book myself. I definitely recommend this to anyone who likes to listen to audiobooks.
This is a great book. The romance was sizzling, and the plot twists unexpected. I'm wondering though if Nora Roberts is a fan of the tv show "Lost". The main male character in this book is named "Ford Sawyer." On Lost, Josh Holloway's character was called "Sawyer" in season 1. After that, it was revealed that his real name was "James Ford." Maybe Miss Roberts combined the 2 names. Also, one small error in the book. Ford said his parents named him after the car, Ford Cutlass. The Cutlass was an Oldsmobile. Anyway, I highly recommend this book.
I loved TRIBUTE so much that I stayed up late two nights in a row to finish it. Then I was depressed that I had finished it so quickly!
This latest offering from Nora Roberts really does have everything I've come to love in her writing: mystery, romance, great character development, and a truly interesting storyline.
With the added fun additions of flipping houses, hosts of HGTV shows, graphic novelists, actresses and screen legends, and high school English teachers, all branches of career and life are covered.
This really is a book for your keeper shelf. You'll fall in love with Cilla and Ford, you'll agonize over the dual mystery of Janet Hardy's death and the current terror that the main character is facing, and you'll laugh-out-loud at the wonderful chemistry and dialogue between the hero and heroine. I would really like to read more about this couple in the future -- they're just really down-to-earth people that you come to respect and admire by the end of TRIBUTE.
Maybe we can get an update on their lives when Ms. Roberts writes Steve and Shanna's story? (Hint, hint!)
Great book. I loved it! I like how she dealt in depth with the relationship between the two lovers.
Tribute was wonderfully wrote. It was the first Nora Roberts book that I have ever read. When I was getting close to the end it seemed like a fairy tale ending. Which took a surprising new twist! It was shocking to know who was behind all those awful incidents. Even the rich and famous has deadly hidden dark secrets.....
I read and reread Nora RObert's new book Tribute three times in a row. I just could not bear to separate myself from Cilla and Ford. I find myself often disapointed by Robert's work lately-she has become predictable-but this book brought to life unique and refresing characters. They were not the typical romance hero and heroine. Great read.
I could not put this book down. Cilla is a complex woman whose life long pain becomes previlant mid book. But buying her grandmother's dilapidated home and doing the remodeling herself gives her a reason to get up in the morning. Saying nothing of the charming neigbor, Ford and his adorable dog. The book was funny, mysterious, lusty 'like all Roberts books' and now I'm sorry I read it so fast. In 60 days I'll read it again.
A bit drawn out and boring at parts. I noticed some things that were in the sisters trilogy were in this book. But you just have to fall in love with Ford and his dog. Made the story worth it.
You can always count on Nora to deliver a good book. I really liked reading Tribute. Cilla is a memorable character and I was thrilled with how this ended for her. Its a good story that will keep you turning the pages.