title: The Light of Evening
author:  Edna O'Brien 
description: <i>Starred Review.</i>  In her 20th work of fiction, O'Brien meditates with haunting lyricism on the lure of home and the compulsion to leave. Dilly, 78 and widowed, lies in a Catholic hospital in rural Ireland waiting for her elder daughter, Eleanora, to arrive at her bedside. In gorgeous stream-of-consciousness from the masterful O'Brien (<i>Lantern Slides</i>), Dilly recalls her early years as well as decades of misunderstanding and conflict with Eleanora. Dilly's past unfolds in fits and starts: she leaves her mother behind in a small village in Ireland to seek a better life in 1920s Brooklyn, returning after a failed affair and the death of her brother, Michael. She promptly marries the rich Cornelius; they settle at Rusheen, his dilapidated family estate, and have two children. For Eleanora's story, O'Brien shifts to the third person: the daughter moves to England, marries an older novelist and begins a successful career as a writer before divorcing him and embarking on a series of affairs with married men, a life that Dilly both envies and scorns. The award-winning O'Brien evokes the cruelty of estrangement while allowing her characters to remain sympathetic and giving them real voice. <i>(Oct.)</i> <br />Copyright  Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
zlib_text: Nora Roberts - From the Heart
  
  Tonight and Always
  
  CHAPTER 1
  
  It was dusk, that strange, almost mystical interlude when light and dark are
  perfectly balanced. Within moments the soft blue would be transformed by the
  fiery colors of sunset. Shadows were lengthening; birds were quieting.
  
  Kasey stood at the foot of the steps leading to the Taylor mansion. She
  glanced up at the massive white pillars and old rose brick with huge expanses
  of plate glass. Three stories. Here and there lights shone dimly through drawn
  drapes. There was a monied dignity about the place. Old money, inherent
  dignity.
  
  Intimidating, she thought, letting her eyes roam up and down again. But it did
  have a certain style. Under the cover of dusk the house looked serene.
  
  Lifting a large brass knocker, she thudded it against the thick oak door. The
  noise boomed into the twilight. She smiled at the sound, then turned to watch
  the colors bleed slowly into the sky. Already it was more night than day.
  Behind her the door 