Black Hills

Black Hills

In this #1 New York Times bestseller, Nora Roberts takes readers deep into the rugged hills of South Dakota, where the shadows keep secrets, hunters stalk the land, and a friendship matures into something more.... Cooper Sullivan spent the summers of his youth on his grandparents’ South Dakota ranch, sharing innocent games and stolen kisses with the neighbor girl, Lil Chance. Now, twelve years after they last walked together hand in hand, fate has brought them back to the Black Hills. Though the memory of Coop’s touch still haunts her, Lil has let nothing stop her dream of opening the Chance Wildlife Refuge, but something—or someone—has been keeping a close watch. When small pranks and acts of destruction escalate into a heartless attack on Lil’s beloved cougar, memories of an unsolved murder have Coop springing to action to keep Lil safe.  Both of them know the natural dangers that lurk in the wild landscape of the Black Hills. But a killer of twisted and unnatural instincts has singled them out as prey.... “A thrilling love story.”— Midwest Book Review   “This premier storyteller proves an ordinary love story can still win your heart, and even an inevitable confrontation may scare you silly.”— Publishers Weekly   “Another Roberts masterpiece...Once again, she creates compelling characters and produces a story that grabs your attention and doesn’t let go until the last pages.”— McClatchy-Tribune News Service “As in previous Roberts novels, well-fleshed-out characters add emotional punch to the action. The juxtaposition of animal and human predators eloquently points out where true viciousness lies. Twin love stories are beautifully woven throughout the gripping suspense. This is one of Roberts' best!”— RT Book Reviews Nora Roberts  is the #1  New York Times  bestselling author of more than 200 novels. She is also the author of the bestselling In Death series written under the pen name J. D. Robb. There are more than 500 million copies of her books in print. 1   south dakota   June 1989   Cooper Sullivan's life, as he'd known it, was over. Judge and jury-in the form of his parents-had not been swayed by pleas, reason, temper, threats, but instead had sentenced him and shipped him off, away from everything he knew and cared about, to a world without video parlors or Big Macs.   The only thing that kept him from completely dying of boredom, or just going wacko, was his prized Game Boy.   As far as he could see, it would be him and Tetris for the duration of his prison term-two horrible, stupid months-in the Wild freaking West. He knew damn well the game, which his father had gotten pretty much right off the assembly line in Tokyo, was a kind of bribe.   Coop was eleven, and nobody's fool.   Practically nobody in the whole U. S. of A. had the game, and that was definitely cool. But what was the point in having something everybody else wanted if you couldn't show it off to your friends?   This way, you were just Clark Kent or Bruce Wayne, the lame alter egos of the cool guys.   All of his friends were back, a zillion miles back, in New York. They'd be hanging out for the summer, taking trips to the beaches of Long Island or down to the Jersey Shore. He'd been promised two weeks at baseball camp in July.   But that was before.   Now his parents were off to Italy and France and other stupid places on a second honeymoon. Which was code for last-ditch effort to save the marriage.   No, Coop was nobody's fool.   Having their eleven-year-old son around wasn't romantic or whatever, so they'd shipped him off to his grandparents and the boondockies of South holy crap Dakota.   Godforsaken South Dakota. He'd heard his mother call it that plenty of times-except when she'd smiled and smiled telling him he was going to have an adventure, get to know his roots. Godforsaken turned into pristine and pure and exciting. Like he didn't know she'd run off from her parents and their crappy little farm the minute she'd turned eighteen?   So he was stuck back where she'd run from, and he hadn't done anything to deserve it. It wasn't his fault his father couldn't keep his dick in his pants, or his mother compensated by buying up Madison Avenue. Information Coop had learned from expert and regular eavesdropping. They screwed things up and he was sentenced to a summer on a horseshit farm with grandparents he barely knew.   And they were really old.   He was supposed to help with the horses, who smelled and looked like they wanted to bite you. With the chickens who smelled and did bite.   They didn't have a housekeeper who cooked egg white omelets and picked up his action figures. And they drove trucks instead of cars. Even his ancient grandmother.   He hadn't seen a cab in days.   He had chores, and had to eat home-cooked meals with food he'd never seen in his life. And maybe the food was pretty good, but that wasn't the point.   The one TV in the whole house barely got anything, and there was no McDonald's. No Chinese or p