Where would it be safe? On the side of the highway? People were swerving all over the road, as blind as she was. Her headlights seemed absolutely useless, and she wanted to stop, but where? Like an ocean wave, rain poured across her windshield, obscuring nearly everything. There were long stretches during which she felt as if she were driving on instinct alone, because nothing was visible at all.
Pulling the shoulder strap of the seat belt over her head, she leaned over the steering wheel, looking for the dotted lines in the road, catching a glimpse here and there. They wouldn’t be able to see her car with time enough to stop. Rain fell so hard in places that traffic slowed to five miles an hour andĝenise held the wheel with white knuckles, her face a mask of concentration.Ět times it was impossible to see the road through the windshield, but stopping meant certain disaster because of the people on the highway behind her. Now that she was firmly in its midst, there was little she could do. People who could took cover inside, but people on the highway, like Denise Holton, had no place to go. The system had blown in from the northwest and was crossing the state at nearly forty miles an hour.Ěll at once, radio stations crackled with emergency warnings, documenting the storm’s ferocity. One minute it was cloudy and dark, but not unusually so in the next, lightning, gale-force winds, and blinding rain exploded from the early summer sky. Thousands of trees were felled, flash floods swept over banks of three major rivers, and lives changed forever with one fell swoop of Mother Nature. Telephone lines lay strewn across roads, transformers blazed without anyone to stop them. In all, nine documented tornadoes would touch down that evening in the eastern part of the state, destroying nearly thirty homes in the process.
Others simply shook their heads and said that they knew something like that would happen sooner or later. It would later be called one of the most violent storms in NorthĜarolina history.ěecause it occurred inđ999, some of the most superstitious citizens considered it an omen, the first step toward the end of time. Lynn Harris at New Line Cinema Mark Johnson, producer. You both changed my life for the better and I’ll never forget it.Īnd finally, a wineglass raised in toast to the rest of those people who help me every step of the way: Jennifer Romanello,Ğmiěattaglia,Ğdnağarley, and the rest of the publicity department at Warner ğlag, who designed all my fabulous book covers Scott Schwimer, my entertainment attorney Howie Sanders and Richard Green at United TalentĚgency, two of the best at what they do ĝeniseĝiNovi, the fabulous producer of Message in aěottle (the main character in this novel is named for her, by the way) Ĝourtenay Valenti and Lorenzoĝiěonaventura at Warnerěros.
Many thanks to Larry Kirshbaum, the number one guy at Warnerěooks, who also happens to be a really nice guy, and MaureenĞgen, who is not only a gem, but a brilliant gem. I hope we work together for a long, long time. My editor, Jamie Raab, of Warnerěooks, has also been great to work with-Īgain! What can I say? I’m lucky to have your guidance-don’t ever believe that I take it for granted. I can never say it enough: Thank you so much for everything-you’re the best! My agent, Theresa Park, of Sanford GreenburgerĚssociates, has been with me every step of the way, and it’s been my good fortune to have worked with her. My three sons (Miles, Ryan, and Landon) also deserve my thanks, simply because they help me keep everything in perspective. What a wild eleven years we’ve shared, huh? This book is dedicated with love to Pat anděilly Mills.Īgain, I’d like to thank my wife,Ĝathy, who had to be more patient with me than usual while writing this novel. Warnerěooks, Inc., Hachetteěook Group,Ē37 ParkĚvenue, New York, NYđ0017, Visit our Web site at The "Warnerěooks" name and logo are trademarks of Hachetteěook Group, Inc. Copyright ©Ē000 by Nicholas SparksĞnterprises, Inc.
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