{"product_id":"slow-burn-isbn-9780345453853","title":"Slow Burn","description":"Every fire begins with a little heat–and in Slow Burn, bestselling author Julie Garwood provides the spark, skillfully blending pulse-pounding action, intense emotion, and characters with grit and heart. The result is an electrifying novel of romantic suspense that will have readers burning through the pages.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAn unpretentious beauty who radiates kindness, Kate MacKenna doesn’t have a bad bone in her body–or an enemy in the world. So why are bombs igniting everywhere she goes? The first explosion brings her face-to-face with a handsome Charleston police detective. The second sends her into the arms of her best friend’s brother–a Boston cop who’s a little too reckless and way too charming for comfort. But Dylan Buchanan won’t let emotion prevent him from doing his job: Someone is trying to kill Kate, and Dylan is the only one standing between her and the monster who wants her dead.“One of bestseller Garwood’s biggest strengths is her marvelous sense of dialogue and humor. When jumping into one of her incomparable romantic thrillers, all you can do is hang on for the wild ride.”—\u003ci\u003eRomantic Times\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A fantastic and exciting romantic thriller.”—\u003ci\u003eBest Reviews\u003c\/i\u003eJulie Garwood is the author of numerous \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestsellers, including \u003cb\u003eFire and Ice, Shadow Music, Shadow Dance, Murder List, Killjoy, Mercy, Heartbreaker, Ransom,\u003c\/b\u003e and \u003cb\u003eCome the Spring.\u003c\/b\u003e There are more than thirty-six million copies of her books in print.\u003ci\u003eChapter One\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      The crusty old man was going to cause an uproar, and he was only sorry he  wouldn’t be around to watch it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    He was about to pull the rug out from under his useless relatives, and oh,  were they going to take a tumble. But it was high time someone in this  miserable family righted a terrible wrong, high time indeed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    While he waited for the equipment to be set up, he cleared the clutter  from his desk. His gnarled fingers stroked the smooth wood with as much  tenderness and care as he had once given his mistresses when he touched  them. The desk was old and scarred and as worn out as he was. He had made  his fortune in this very room. With his phone glued to his ear, he had  worked one lucrative deal after another. How many companies had he  purchased in the past thirty years? How many more had he destroyed?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    He stopped himself from daydreaming about his many victories. Now wasn’t  the time. He crossed the room to the bar and poured himself a glass of  water from the crystal decanter one of his business associates had given  him years ago. After he took a sip, he carried the glass to the desk and  placed it on a coaster near the corner. He looked around the paneled  library and decided it was too dark for the cameras, so he rushed to turn  on all the table lights.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Are you ready?” he asked, impatience brimming in his tone. Pulling the  chair out, he sat down, smoothed his hair, and adjusted his suit jacket so  the collar wouldn’t stand up. He tugged on his tie as if that would loosen  the tightness in his throat. “I’m going to prepare my thoughts now,” he  said, his voice raspy from years of barking orders and smoking his  cherished Cuban cigars.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    He wanted a cigar now. There weren’t any in the house, though. He’d given  up the habit ten years ago, but every once in a while when he was nervous  he would get a sudden longing for one.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    At the moment he was not only nervous but also a little fearful, which was  an odd, almost unfamiliar, feeling for him. He was desperate to do the  right thing before he died, which would be soon now, very soon. He owed at  least that much to the MacKenna name.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    The old-fashioned video camera with a VHS tape was positioned on a tripod  facing the old man. The digital camera was being held up directly behind  the video camera, and the eye was also focused on him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    He looked beyond the cameras. “I know you think digital is enough, and  you’re probably right, but I still like the old way with the videotape. I  don’t trust those discs, and so the videotape will be my backup. You nod,”  he instructed, “when everything’s turned on, and I’ll begin.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    He picked up his glass, took a drink, and put it down. The pills those  aggravating doctors forced on him made his mouth dry.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    A few seconds later, all was ready, and he began.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “My name is Compton Thomas MacKenna. This is not my last will and  testament because I’ve already taken care of all that. I changed my will  some time ago. The original is in my safe-deposit box; a copy is in my  file at the law firm I have employed for the past twenty years, and there  is also another copy, which I assure you will rear its ugly head if for  any reason the original and the attorney’s copy are misplaced or destroyed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “I didn’t tell any of you about the new will or about the changes I made  because I didn’t want to spend my last months being harassed, but now that  the doctors have assured me the end is approaching and there is nothing  more they can do, I want . . . no, I need,” he corrected, “to explain why  I have done what I’ve done . . . though I’m not sure any of you will  understand or care.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “I’m going to start my explanation with a brief history of the MacKenna  family. My parents were born, raised, and buried in the Highlands of  Scotland. My father owned quite a bit of land . . . quite a bit,” he  repeated. He paused to clear his throat and take another drink of water  before continuing. “When he died, the land came to my older brother,  Robert Duncan the second, and to me equally. Robert and I traveled to the  United States to complete our education, and both of us decided to stay.  Years later Robert sold me his share of the land. With his inheritance,  that made him a very wealthy man, and it made me the sole heir to the  property called Glen MacKenna.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “I never married. I had neither the time nor the inclination. Robert  married a woman I didn’t approve of, but unlike my brother, I didn’t  threaten or carry on because he chose someone I didn’t like. Her name was  Caroline . . . a social climber. She obviously married Robert for his  money. She certainly never loved him. She did do her duty though and gave  him two sons, Robert Duncan the third and Conal Thomas.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “And now to the heart of this history lesson. When my nephew Conal chose  to marry a woman without social standing, his father disowned him. Robert  had chosen someone else—a woman from an influential family—and he was  outraged that his wishes were being ignored. Conal’s wife, Leah, was no  better than a street beggar, but Conal didn’t seem to care about the money  he would lose.” He let out a huff of disgust and said, “All Robert had  left was his firstborn, a real yes-man who did whatever he was told to do.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Over the years I lost track of Conal,” he continued. “Too busy,” he added  as an excuse. “All I knew was that he’d moved to Silver Springs just  outside of Charleston. But then I got word that he’d been killed in a car  accident. I knew my brother wouldn’t go to the funeral . . . but I went.  Not so much from a sense of obligation, I admit. I guess I was curious to  see how Conal made out. I didn’t tell Leah or anyone I was there. Kept my  distance. The church was packed with mourners. I even went to the cemetery  and saw Leah with her three little girls, the youngest no more than a  baby.” He stopped as though envisioning the scene. Not wanting to betray  any hint of emotion that might cross his faded eyes, he looked away from  the camera for a second. He straightened in his chair and resumed. “I saw  what I went there to see. The MacKenna line would continue through Conal’s  children . . . though it was a pity there weren’t any boys.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “As for my brother’s other son . . . Robert the third . . . he indulged  him . . . taught him to be useless. He didn’t allow him   to have ambition, and in return my brother lived long enough to watch his  firstborn drink himself into an early grave.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “The sin of excess has been passed down to the next generation. I have  watched Robert’s grandsons squander their inheritance and, even worse,  defile the MacKenna name. Bryce, the oldest, is following in his father’s  footsteps. He married a good woman, Vanessa, but she couldn’t save him  from his vices. Like his father, he’s a drunk. He has sold all of his  stocks and cashed in his bonds and has gone through every dollar. He spent  a good deal on alcohol and women, and only God knows what he did with the  rest.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “And then there’s Roger. He’s been the most elusive—  disappearing for weeks at a time—but it didn’t take my sources long to  track him down and find out what he’s been up to. It appears Roger has  turned to gambling for his amusement. According to the reports, last year  alone he lost over four hundred thousand. Four hundred thousand.” The old  man shook his head and continued as though the words left a foul taste.  “What’s worse, he’s been dealing with mobsters like Johnny Jackman. Just  having the MacKenna name associated with a thug like Jackman makes my  stomach turn.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Ewan, the youngest, can’t or won’t control his temper. If it were not for  his high-priced and very clever attorneys, he would be in prison now. Two  years ago he nearly beat a man to death.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “I am disgusted with all of them. They are useless men who have  contributed nothing to this world.” The old man pulled a handkerchief from  his pocket and dabbed at his brow.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “When those worthless doctors told me I would be here for only a few more  months, I decided to take stock.” He turned and opened the side drawer and  withdrew a thick black folder. He opened it in the center of the desk and  stacked his hands on top of it. “I’ve had an investigator do some checking  for me. I wanted to know how Conal’s children turned out. I must admit I  had low expectations. I assumed, after Conal’s death, Leah and her girls  would have been living hand to mouth. I also assumed none of them would  have gone beyond high school . . . if that. I was wrong on both counts.  There was enough of a settlement from the insurance company after Conal’s  accident that Leah could stay in their house with the children. She took a  secretarial position at a girls’ private school. The pay was meager—I  don’t suppose Leah was capable of much more—but there was a trade-off. All  three of her daughters attended the private lower school and upper school,  their tuition waived.” He nodded approval and said, “Conal evidently had  taught her the value of a proper education.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    He glanced over the report in the folder. “It seems that all three of them  are hard workers. Not a slacker among them,” he added with emphasis. “The  oldest, Kiera, received a full scholarship to a good university and  graduated with honors. She received another scholarship to medical school  and is doing exceptionally well. The middle girl, Kate, is the  entrepreneur in the family. She, too, received a full scholarship to one  of the finest universities in the east and also graduated with honors. She  started a business while she was still in school, and today her company is  growing and on its way to being very successful.” He looked back at the  camera. “It appears she is most like me.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Isabel, the youngest, is certainly intelligent as well, but her true  talent is her voice. I understand she is quite gifted.” He tapped the  report with his index finger. “Isabel plans to study music and history at  the university, and it is her desire to one day go to Scotland to meet her  distant relatives.” He nodded. “This news pleases me considerably.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “And now to the changes in my will.” The corners of his mouth lifted  slightly in an almost imperceptible, devious smile. It faded as he  continued. “Bryce and Roger and Ewan will each receive one hundred  thousand dollars in cash immediately. It is my hope that the money will be  spent on rehabilitation, but I doubt that will happen. Vanessa will also  receive one hundred thousand, and she will get this house. She deserves at  least that much for having put up with Bryce these past years. She has  brought respect to the MacKenna name through her work with charities and  the art community, so I don’t see any sense in punishing her for her  choice of husbands.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Now to the other MacKennas. I’ve signed over all my treasury bonds to  Kiera. The maturity dates are outlined in the will. Isabel, a history buff  like me, will receive Glen MacKenna. There are stipulations that go along  with it, of course, and she will be apprised of these in due time. This is  all they are to receive from me, but I believe I have been more than  generous.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    His breathing became labored and he stopped to take another drink of  water, emptying the glass before he finished speaking.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “Finally, to the bulk of my estate, my assets calculated to be worth  eighty million dollars. This is the accumulation of my life’s work and it  will be passed on to my blood relations, but I’ll be damned if I’ll just  hand it over to my depraved nephews, and so it will go to Kate MacKenna.  She is the most driven of the whole lot and, like me, knows the value of  money. If she chooses this legacy, it’s all hers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e    “I trust that she will not squander it.”#1 New York Times bestselling author of Sizzle; Free book offer. See back cover for details.","brand":"Ballantine Books","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46303316476133,"sku":"NP9780345453853","price":8.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780345453853.jpg?v=1767736775","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/slow-burn-isbn-9780345453853","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}