In this acclaimed early novel New York Times bestselling author Luanne Rice takes readers on an intensely moving journey through the intimate terrain of a rapturous marriage in sudden jeopardy-and follows one woman's courageous search to find her way when everything, even her heart, seems lost.... Georgie Symonds didn't think anything could shake her perfect marriage. She and Nick were meant for each other, everyone said so, and their life on the Connecticut shore, among Georgie's close-knit family, is picture-perfect. But lately Nick has been consumed with his job on Wall Street, and Georgie finds herself plagued with suspicions too awful to contemplate. To distract herself, she plunges into her work with the Swift Observatory, examining the stories of people whose lives have been changed by unexpected tragedy. But it's when a handsome stranger arrives on her doorstep that Georgie learns firsthand that when your dreams are in danger of collapsing, it's time to create new ones....
Georgie Swift Symonds is crazy in love with her Wall Street lawyer husband Nickso ``crazy'' in fact, that she has paranoic fantasies that he is unfaithful, and she hounds him with obsessive suspicions. And, she so cherishes her familyher pugnaciously senile grandmother Pem; her TV-celebrity mother Honora; her sister Clare, brother-in-law Donald and two nephewsthat she spends much of her time dreading any change or loss in their close intimacy. The three generations of women and the men who have married into the clan live in a family compound on the Sound in Connecticut. Though she is childless and nearly devoid of domestic responsibilities, Georgie doesn't want a job that will remove her from the family nest. She conceives of a project she dubs the Swift Observatory: interviewing people whose lives have been radically altered by sudden tragedy. But try as she might to avoid it, change does come to Georgie and her family in unpredictable ways. Rice (Angels All Over Town) conveys the delights and pains of loving relationships with verve and charm, and she charts Georgie's deepening maturation with a sure hand, mingling humor and poignancy. While readers may find Georgie's immersion in the hermetic family relationship a bit suffocating and cloying, Rice's skill with fluid dialogue and the appeal of her engaging characters more than compensate for this drawback. (August) -- PUBLISHERS WEEKLY.
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January 30, 2006
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Excerpt from Crazy in Love by Luanne Rice
MY HUSBAND, NICK SYMONDS, COMMUTED to work in a seaplane. This was unusual, of great interest to people who lived in our small town on Connecticut's shore and to the people we met at parties in New York. They loved to hear about how he and three other Wall Street lawyers, all of whom had pilots' licenses and lived in Black Hall, beyond reasonable commuting distance to New York, had bought and refurbished a third-hand seaplane for less money than it would cost to buy a new station wagon. Only during bad weather and when the bay iced over did they drive into the city. Still, I considered the seaplane an ominous portent. It symbolized the extremes to which Nick would go for Wall Street. The trouble was, we loved each other madly, but the Street was stealing him from me.
It was early May; the leaves were out. I stood on the wide porch watching Nick go through his briefcase. Every morning he inventoried its contents. I stared at his wavy hair, wild in the wind. I saw the scene as a tableau, as an outsider would see it. My black hair and white nightgown were whipping behind me as if I were a heroine about to be left. I wanted to pull him inside, take off his dark topcoat, have him with me all day. We could go back to bed for an hour, eat a big breakfast, fish for snapper blues, ride bikes along the Shore Road.
"Baby, don't go," I said. I always called him "baby" when I wanted to make light of something I felt murderously strong about.
He stood and hugged me close, and then I pulled back so I could see his eyes. They were black, nearly purple like India ink. They held my gaze for a while, but then I heard the plane taxiing across the choppy bay.
"Why don't you drive today?" I asked. "It's too windy to fly." The Tobins' flag was snapping like gunfire.
"There's not time now, Georgie," he said. He sounded a little sad; lately I had become more anxious about his flying. I could hear the voice of a Coast Guard commander: "We're sorry, madam, the plane and all passengers were lost."
"I have to go," he said. He kissed me and ran for the plane. Nick was tall; his strides were long. His black coat flapped in the wind. For a few steps he ran backwards, waving at me. I watched him climb into the rear seat behind my brother-in-law, Donald Macken. How incongruous it looked, that shabby yellow plane full of pristine lawyers! I could see them only from the chest up, wearing identical dark coats, white shirts, dark ties. Nick was identical to no one; he only dressed that way. The plane taxied into the Sound, gaining speed as it bounced across the waves, then took off. It circled once over the pine trees, casting a black shadow on the bay. Then I did what I always did when Nick flew in windy weather: I walked next door to visit my mother.