Where the Heart Is [NOOK Book]



After the pain of betrayal and divorce—after years spent decorating other people's houses—Shelley Wilde's cherished dream has finally come true: a home all her own, where she can live happily, secure. . .and alone.


But Cam Remington has come to shatter her solitude. A traveler who has journeyed to the world's wildest places, a ...

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Where the Heart Is

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After the pain of betrayal and divorce—after years spent decorating other people's houses—Shelley Wilde's cherished dream has finally come true: a home all her own, where she can live happily, secure. . .and alone.


But Cam Remington has come to shatter her solitude. A traveler who has journeyed to the world's wildest places, a renegade with no roots and no shame, he is everything Shelley has ever feared-and desired-in a man.


An intruder has broken through Shelley's barricades to lure her wounded spirit out of hiding with his electric sensuality. And it will take a traveling man to show her that real love is risk and danger. . .and that home is the haven found in a lover's embrace.

A captivating contemporary love story in Where the Heart Is, bestselling author Elizabeth Lowell revisits and expands upon Traveling Man, one of her most beloved classic novels. It is an unforgettable tale that brims with the passion and magnificent artistry that have become her trademarks.

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780061802348
  • Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
  • Publication date: 10/13/2009
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 384
  • Sales rank: 111,897
  • File size: 662 KB

Meet the Author

Elizabeth Lowell's exciting novels of romantic suspense include the New York Times bestsellers Dangerous Refuge, Beautiful Sacrifice, Death Echo, The Wrong Hostage, Amber Beach, Jade Island, Pearl Cove, and Midnight in Ruby Bayou. She has also written New York Times bestselling historical series set in the American West and medieval Britain. She has more than 80 titles published to date, with more than 24 million copies of her books in print. She lives in the Sierra Nevada Mountains with her husband, with whom she writes novels under a pseudonym. Her favorite activity is exploring the western United States to find the landscapes that speak to her soul and inspire her writing.

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.


Extensive and versatile, Elizabeth Lowell's résumé of titles (in almost every genre) is as long as the list of her various pen names. She's written science fiction, mystery and romance. She's also penned historical fiction and collaborated on a movie novelization. So prolific is Lowell that she and her husband, Evan Maxwell, have had to create a whole raft of pseudonyms for her books.

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."

Good To Know

Readers are surprised to find out that the books Lowell writes with her husband are true collaborations. "In fact, a lot of people, once they know, say, 'Oh, I know who did this in the book, and I know who did this,' and they're almost invariably wrong," she told the Los Angeles Times.

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.

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    1. Also Known As:
      Ann Maxwell; A .E. Maxwell; Annalise Sun; Lowell Charters
    1. Date of Birth:
      April 5, 1944
    2. Place of Birth:
      Milwaukee, Wisconsin
    1. Education:
      B. A., University of California, 1966

Read an Excerpt

The last thing Shelley Wilde expected to find tucked away in the self-conscious gilt and velvet of her client's house was a man like Cain Remington.

Not that the French antique reproductions were Shelley's fault. She had done everything except hold a gun to JoLynn's stylish head and demand that she have a home that lived up to the spare elegance of its Pacific Palisades setting.

The land was magnificent.

The sky was a cloudless, burning blue. To the west, dry hills marched steeply down to the Pacific Ocean. Bleached by southern California's sun, grass on the hillsides rippled in a tawny echo of the sea's restless waves.

The view of water, wind, and land was untamed even by the expensive homes that stood astride the very crests of the hills.

At least the architect understood the view, Shelley thought. The house itself has clean lines and a wonderful sense of place.

What a pity that my client has neither.

The air inside the house was filtered, refrigerated, and carefully odorless. It could have belonged to a hotel anywhere in the world.

Outside the house, the wind was hot and alive, vivid with the scents of chaparral and the secrets of a dry, wild land. She could barely restrain herself from yanking aside the heavy drapes and throwing open the sliding glass doors that led to a redwood deck overlooking the sea.

If she had been given a free hand to decorate the house, die view would have become a living piece of art, a compelling sweep of primary color and primal force.

But Shelley's hands were well and truly tied. The client had insisted on a certain type of decor for her rented house. There must be nothingunusual or unexpected, and absolutely not one thing that wasn't universally applauded and labeled as tasteful.

If an object wasn't labeled, JoLynn didn't know what to think of it.

And despite man's best efforts, Shelley thought humorously, the Pacific doesn't yet wear a designer label sewn neatly along the seam where land meets sea.

So instead of the Ellsworth Kelley oils and the Saarinen furniture Shelley would have chosen, her client had required that the formal curves and stilted curlicues of Louis XIV, fill the multilevel, ultramodern glass house.

From that choice had followed all the rest. One result was heavy blue velvet draperies shutting out the glorious view. Another was the rented crystal chandelier that looked rather startling against the open beamed ceding of the dining room.

Talk about not getting it. I' m surprised JoLynn didn't pout until the landlord let- her paint the beams white.

Or gilt.

With a sigh that was also a mild curse, Shelley set aside her notebook. She didn't need to write down obvious or subtle signs of personality and use them to puzzle out the best choice in finishing touches for this house. Whatever individuality JoLynn might have was carefully hidden.

There was excellent taste in the house's interior decor, but no originality. There was great beauty but nothing unusual, nothing to give a clue to the unique combination of education and experience, hopes and fears, dreams and disappointments that made up JoLynn Cummings.

Unhappily, Shelley looked around again, hoping she had missed something.

She hadn't.

If there's anything more compelling than insecurity beneath my clients stunningly well-kept surface, she's not letting on. Everything she rented from my partner could have been taken right out of a catalog of museum knockoffs.

Maybe in the next room, she told herself. Maybe the Louis Quatorze Fashion Police haven't been there yet.

And then again, maybe they had.

In room after room, hallway after hallway, nothing was out of place. Even the maid's quarters were all gilt and grace, elegance and gilt. The blue and white and gold fragility was suffocating.

Not that the decor or furniture itself is at fault, Shelley admitted. The furnishings are exquisite, like everything Brian rents to our wealthy clientele.

Yet the unrelieved perfection made her itch to put in accents that would subtly remind people that this was a home, not a museum reproduction.

Yawning, she abandoned the fantasy of subtlety and JoLynn. It was obvious that the client didn't have enough confidence in her own taste to survive any ripples in the perfect surface Brian had created for her.

People like that are the easiest and least satisfying kind of client, Shelley thought idly. Give her a room straight out of the last museum she saw. and she thinks you're brilliant.

Less individuality and sense of adventure than a clam.

Hope I can stay awake long enough to do my duty. Or at least look like I'm doing it.

She glanced over her shoulder, but saw no one to relieve the boring perfection of the decor.

Brian and JoLynn must still be out in the garden discussing lawn furniture and outdoor marble statuary. White, of course.

Or do they still sell gilded cherubs? Shelley wondered with a shudder.

Part of her was afraid they did.

She skirted the large, flawlessly furnished living room with its velvet-and-chiffon draperies distorting the view of the wild sea. Without much hope, she approached the final wing of the house.

The first door at the end of the hall recently had been repainted white with gilt trim. With a shrug, she opened the door.

The room beyond made her take a quick, surprised breath. Someone in the house was fighting a battle for breathing space amid all the French perfection.

She smiled, then began laughing softly. Intelligent life, she thought eagerly. Finally!

Louis XIV replicas were almost buried beneath a random assortment of clothes, games, and unidentifiable objects. Posters of barbarians in full sword-and-sorcery costume were tacked to the eggshell walls.


The hem of the velvet drapes had been ruthlessly stuffed over the top of the curtain rod. Now the spectacular view was part of the living space rather than an enemy at the luxuriously barred gate.

Where the Heart Is. Copyright © by Elizabeth Lowell. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
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Customer Reviews

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( 9 )
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Sort by: Showing 1 – 13 of 9 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted May 16, 2001

    Great Romance

    I really enjoyed this book. I loved it. I've come to really love reading Elizabeth Lowell's books.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 25, 2000

    This Book!

    It is a tragic, yet heart warming book that tries to bring you closer to your own family and mend the wound of which you and your family have produced. It also give's you a chance to think about how presious life is and to try to not take it for granted.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
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