With a layover in Paris, the young stewardess wakes up the next morning. Had they tried to kidnap her on the busy streets of Paris last night or was is just a dream or a hallucination?
Jacket flap text:
"I have a gun in my pocket," the well-dressed stranger standing on a Paris sidewalk said. "You are not to scream, mademoiselle. You are to get into that car between those two gentlemen in the back seat." Stricken dumb, Dorothy Wanger stared up at the handsome Frenchman through the hazy spring sunlight.
Even before the jet left New York, the young stewardess realized she was in for a nerve-wracking flight and layover. How could it be otherwise when among the passengers in her charge was Eric, the doggedly attentive ex-husband she had recently divorced? But it was not until the handsome stranger threatened her the next morning that her Paris stay took its first nightmarish turn. The Frenchman and his silent colleagues may have been insane to try to kidnap a harmless American on a busy street. Or had the chilling words been her own hallucination? The police obviously thought so because they accepted the stranger's denials, dismissing her complaint.
There were other threats, so furtive that Dorothy wondered if she had imagined them. And the next morning when she awoke in the seedy Left Bank hotel where she had taken refuge, she was haunted by the memory of a vivid dream. In it the handsome Frenchman drove her across Paris to a dark-mirrored room. Only minutes after she dismissed the dream from her thoughts, evidence that she had indeed left the hotel sometime during the night confronted her. Had the "dream" been real? Or had she wandered alone through the nighttime streets, hallucinating about people in a dark-mirrored room?
Here is an absorbing novel of love and danger, of a girl torn between doubting her own sanity and believing that a group of strangers had chosen her to be the victim of a plot as senseless as it was terrifying.
Jacket flap text:
"I have a gun in my pocket," the well-dressed stranger standing on a Paris sidewalk said. "You are not to scream, mademoiselle. You are to get into that car between those two gentlemen in the back seat." Stricken dumb, Dorothy Wanger stared up at the handsome Frenchman through the hazy spring sunlight.
Even before the jet left New York, the young stewardess realized she was in for a nerve-wracking flight and layover. How could it be otherwise when among the passengers in her charge was Eric, the doggedly attentive ex-husband she had recently divorced? But it was not until the handsome stranger threatened her the next morning that her Paris stay took its first nightmarish turn. The Frenchman and his silent colleagues may have been insane to try to kidnap a harmless American on a busy street. Or had the chilling words been her own hallucination? The police obviously thought so because they accepted the stranger's denials, dismissing her complaint.
There were other threats, so furtive that Dorothy wondered if she had imagined them. And the next morning when she awoke in the seedy Left Bank hotel where she had taken refuge, she was haunted by the memory of a vivid dream. In it the handsome Frenchman drove her across Paris to a dark-mirrored room. Only minutes after she dismissed the dream from her thoughts, evidence that she had indeed left the hotel sometime during the night confronted her. Had the "dream" been real? Or had she wandered alone through the nighttime streets, hallucinating about people in a dark-mirrored room?
Here is an absorbing novel of love and danger, of a girl torn between doubting her own sanity and believing that a group of strangers had chosen her to be the victim of a plot as senseless as it was terrifying.
