by Barbara Delinsky


by Barbara Delinsky


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From New York Times bestselling author Barbara Delinsky comes Rekindled, featuring two unforgettable novels together in one volume.

Delinsky has enthralled millions of readers with her emotionally powerful stories of love and loss, commitment and betrayal, and finding the strength to survive and succeed. In Rekindled, she presents two of her favorite early novels, Flip Side of Yesterday and Lilac Awakening—both exemplify the rich character-driven storytelling that has become Delinsky’s hallmark. In Flip Side of Yesterday, Delinsky reminds us that sometimes life offers a second chance to find the one thing we thought we'd lost forever. And in Lilac Awakening, she reveals how the darkest secrets are no match for the passions of a lover's heart.

For the fans who have long cherished Delinsky's novels, and for a new generation of readers who have yet to experience her extraordinary storytelling, here are two stories that will capture the heart. 

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780060847548
Publisher: HarperCollins
Publication date: 02/20/2018
Pages: 352
Product dimensions: 5.31(w) x 8.00(h) x 0.79(d)

About the Author

Barbara Delinsky is the author of more than twenty-two New York Times bestselling novels. Her books have been published in thirty languages, with over thirty-five million copies in print worldwide. A lifelong New Englander, Delinsky currently lives in Massachusetts with her husband. She is a passionate photographer, an avid tennis player, a drop-all-when-they-call mom and Grammi, and a confidante to friends of all stripes.


Newton, Massachusetts

Date of Birth:

August 9, 1945

Place of Birth:

Boston, Massachusetts


B.A. in Psychology, Tufts University, 1967; M.A. in Sociology, Boston College, 1969

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

The evening breeze was gentle, softly whispering Chl ... ooo ... eeeee . . ." as the long-legged vision in white whisked across the dusky lawn, her dark hair streaming behind her, and ran lithely up the broad stone steps.

"Chloe! There you are. I was beginning to worry." A man stepped from beneath the deep brick overhang and fell into easy step beside her as they passed through a large oak door into the high school and headed down a long corridor.

"I'm sorry, Howard, 'she said, meaning it. Howard Wolschinski was the state senator who had first sought her services. After three meetings, she had come to like him. "I'd hoped to be on the road by four, but, I swear, there was a conspiracy against me. First the phone, then my car.'

"Anything major with either?" he asked.

"No on both counts. But I didn't clear Little Compton until five, and by that time the rush hour traffic was horrid. I drove as fast as I could. I hope I haven't messed things up."

"You haven't. The meeting was called for seventhirty. You're only five minutes late. It's given thecrowd a chance to settle down. " He guided heraround a corner with a light hand at her elbowand began the climb as soon as they reached astaircase.

At the first landing, Chloe asked, "How's the turnout?"

He grinned sheepishly. "I only wish we did half as well at political rallies. This is a welcome change from apathy. The auditorium is packed. There must be several hundred people in there.'

Chloe was surprised and decidedly pleased. "Several hundred? Not bad for a county meeting in New Hampshire." She smiled, lowering her voice dramatically. "But which side arethey on? Are they for us or agin'us?"

Her humor drifted unanswered into the stale schoolhouse air as Howard ushered her into the meeting hall, led her onto the stage, and gestured her into a seat. He took one by her side. As though on cue, the crowd silenced and the moderator began.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said in a voice made flat by its broad New England slant, "on behalf of my friends and, uh"-he cast an encompassing glance backward, then turned a cough into a snicker, bringing chuckles from the audience-- adversaries here on the stage with me, I would like to thank you for coming tonight. It's a rare pleasure to see so many of you gathered at once. We realized that the issue of the Rye Beach Resort and Condominium Complex would stir a few of you to action, but we had no idea how many. I don't believe we've had a response like this since that talk of a state prison here a while back."

Chloe was wondering who the man was when Howard whispered, "He's Felix Hart-town manager, commissioner of public safety, President of the United States in his dreams."

She smiled at the quip. Nodding her thanks for the information, she refocused on the speaker.

"...and they listened to us then, just as they listened to us when they mentioned a hazardous waste disposal center six miles from us. And beforethat, there was the matter of a state sales tax. . . "

The monologue went on, freeing Chloe for several seconds more. Bending forward, she drew a notebook from her bag and prepared to make notes on the opposition's points. That opposition sat to her left, occupying two chairs on the far side of the one vacated by the moderator. Her peripheral vision took in two men, one significantly taller and darker than the other. They would be the state representative in favor of the complex and the owner of the development company. Chloe knew neither of their names, a situation that was about to be remedied.

"As for the others here tonight," the moderator said, "let me begin with Howard Wolschinsky. You all know Howard, our distinguished state senator. He gestured from Howard to Chloe. "Chloe MacDaniel, geological consultant and one of the founding partners of Earth Science Education, Inc., out of Little Compton, Rhode Island." His hand went toward the other side of the stage. "Bradbury Huff, your state representative"--she jotted the name in her notebook--"and finally, the president of the Hansen Corporation, Ross Stephenson. . .R-O-S-S S-T-E--

Chloe stopped writing mid-stroke. Ross Stephenson? Ross Stephenson? She would never forget that name. Heart pounding, she glanced at the fourth member of the panel. He was the taller, darker one. Was it the same Ross Stephenson? This man was nattily dressed and impeccably groomed. The Ross she had known had been bearded and wore faded jeans, high boots, and a peasant shirt of Indian cotton. Eleven years had passed. He might have changed. How could she know?

His eyes. They were the same memorable amber. Eleven years ago they had cut through all pretense and snagged her in the space of a breath. They were just as striking now-and they were looking at her. He knew.As all else faded, she felt shock, remembrance, pain. Then she tore her eyes from his and lowered them to her paper. P-H-E-N-S-0-N. Ross Stephenson. Un-believable.

"Are you all right?" Howard whispered, seeming to sense her distress.

She contemplated lying. The society belle of New Orleans would have done that. But today's Chloe was too honest. She whispered back, "I knew him--Ross--a long time ago. I never expected to see him here." Or again, for that matter, she added silently, struggling to keep her thoughts from racing back in time.

"He shakes you up?"

She smiled ruefully. "He shakes me up'

"Will you be able to go on and speak?,;

She took a deep breath. "I'll be fine once we get going, " Unfortunately, Felix Hart continued to talk, gesticulating more emphatically than ever.

"He's been sidetracked on the background of your pal. Listen."

Chloe had no choice.

"As many of you know," Felix drawled with an air of self-importance, "Mr. Stephenson has been behind the building of two successful mall complexes here in the Granite State. His company has left its mark from coast to coast in factories, libraries, educational facilities, and office buildings. The reputation of the Hansen Corporation...

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