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This is a love story, but it’s a different kind of love story, it’s about the horrors of love and its unleashed dark side, its constant beastly confusion and its tidal wave of deadly words. This is a story about what happens to a beautiful young woman, Ruth Blank, who is mentally ill and obsessed with one book in particular, WUTHERING HEIGHTS, secretly searching for her very own Heathcliff while her bipolar-life has been turned upside down and inside out with Schizophrenia as she gently, slowly, almost slides back into reality when she meets a handsome doctor, Jon, who hides well his truly evil Jekyll and Hyde personality and wants to help her cope with the schizophrenia, as if it was merely a text-book case, but it’s more than that. Much more. He seems to care for her, perhaps too much for her own good, this sick-riveting novel will ‘seize’ you from the start and then immerse you with its deadly blades of haunting suspense. There are many lonely mountains to climb; his upper-class level is high, hers is gutter-low, and, except for the voices, she has no one. It’s about the struggles in and off all the streets of Manhattan, a place where there’s something unmistakable about its ‘voice’, its low intimate tone, and the way its word-laden wind tickles your ears with the city’s softly drawn-out vowels and its ill hint of an exciting breath that heightens your pulse. It’s about the rotten apples in the Big Apple; it’s about the whimpers of the strong and the strengths of the weak, it’s about living a life where you can shed your anonymity and be who you really are; crazed saint and sinner, and then become Institutionalized because you’re too different, after you’ve rushed blindly head-firstinto Manhattan’s romantic flames like a dirty defeated moth, carrying Pandora’s huge box of emotions inside your glass head forever, being watched by a thousand eyes, afraid to death of that razor-sharp scalpel that will steal your memories, not just intruding, but removing, as you
