Nora Roberts invites you to unlock your dreams... Three women. Three keys. Each has 28 days to find her way through a dangerous quest. Nora Roberts brings us a unique series with a twist--each novel is written in real time, and the novels will be published in consecutive months.
Roberts built her reputation writing first-rate romantic tales involving legends and magic, and now she returns to the supernatural realm with a story that's not as stellar as her earlier works but should delight her fans. The life of gallery manager Malory Price is stalled when she is invited to a reception at a mansion near her small Pennsylvania town. Upon her arrival, she discovers that she is one of only three guests-all of whom are feisty young women with life challenges just like her own. Their mysterious hosts explain that centuries earlier, they allowed the souls of the three demigoddesses under their care to be stolen by a sorcerer. Legend says the demigoddesses cannot be freed until three mortal women find the keys to the glass box in which they are housed. Should they agree, Malory, Dana Steele and Zoe McCourt will each receive $25,000 to search for the keys, plus a million dollars if they succeed. They nervously accept, and Malory is the first to tackle her task, with the help of Dana's charming but commitment-phobic brother Flynn. The legend is as mistily silly as the art history Malory uses to search for clues, and the financial incentives smack more of a reality show than Celtic lore. Fortunately, Roberts's crisp writing, earthy humor and vivid characterizations combine to make this a compelling read. (Nov.) Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information. -- PUBLISHERS WEEKLY.
Showing 1-1 of the 1 most recent reviews
1 . Unexpected
Posted June 23, 2010 by AlisonWonderland , LincolnI was truly blown away by this series. This series was slightly predictable however some of the events that transpired were a complete surprise. All around it was really fun to read and the first series I reccomend to friends who have never read Roberts' work.
October 27, 2003
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Excerpt from Key of Light by Nora Roberts
THE storm ripped over the mountains, gushing torrents of rain that struck the ground with the sharp ring of metal on stone. Lightning strikes spat down, angry artillery fire that slammed against the cannon roar of thunder.
There was a gleeful kind of mean in the air, a sizzle of temper and spite that boiled with power.
It suited Malory Price's mood perfectly.
Hadn't she asked herself what else could go wrong? Now in answer to that weary, and completely rhetorical, question, nature -- in all her maternal wrath -- was showing her just how bad things could get.
There was an ominous rattling somewhere in the dash of her sweet little Mazda, and she still had nineteen payments to go on it. In order to make those payments, she had to keep her job.
She hated her job.
That wasn't part of the Malory Price Life Plan, which she had begun to outline at the age of eight. Twenty years later, that outline had become a detailed and organized checklist, complete with headings, subheadings, and cross-references. She revised it meticulously on the first day of each year.
She was supposed to love her job. It said so, quite clearly, under the heading of CAREER.
She'd worked at The Gallery for seven years, the last three of those as manager, which was right on schedule. And she had loved it -- being surrounded by art, having an almost free hand in the displaying, the acquiring, the promotion, and the setup for showings and events.
The fact was, she'd begun to think of The Gallery as hers, and knew full well that the rest of the staff, the clients, the artists and craftsmen felt very much the same.
James P. Horace might have owned the smart little gallery, but he never questioned Malory's decisions, and on his increasingly rare visits he complimented her, always, on the acquisitions, the ambience, the sales.
It had been perfect, which was exactly what Malory intended her life to be. After all, if it wasn't perfect, what was the point?
Everything had changed when James ditched fifty-three years of comfortable bachelorhood and acquired himself a young, sexy wife. A wife, Malory thought with her blue-steel eyes narrowing in resentment, who'd decided to make The Gallery her personal pet.
It didn't matter that the new Mrs. Horace knew next to nothing about art, about business, about public relations, or about managing employees. James doted on his Pamela, and Malory's dream job had become a daily nightmare.
But she'd been dealing with it, Malory thought as she scowled through her dark, drenched windshield. She had determined her strategy: she would simply wait Pamela out. She would remain calm and self-possessed until this nasty little bump was past and the road smoothed out again.