Roused by a single drop of blood on the bedsheet, Rosie Daniels wakes up from fourteen years of a nightmare marriage to the chilling realisation that one of these days her husband, Norman. is going to kill her. Or worse still, he isn't. Taking her husband's credit card, Rosie suddenly takes flight, determined to lose herself in a place where Norman won't find her. She'll worry about the rest later. Alone in a strange city, Rosie slowly begins to build a new life, gaining confidence with each step. Good things start to happen: meeting Bill Steiner is one; and finding an odd junk shop painting is another. It may be bad art but i€s perfect for her new apartment. Moreover, the oddly old-fashioned oil strangely seems to want her as much as she wants it. The fact that the name 'Rose Madder' is inscribed on the back of the canvas surely proves that it is meant to be hers. And is destined to change her life — perhaps in more ways than she can ever imagine. But it's hard for Rosie not to keep looking over her shoulder. Rose- maddened and on the rampage, Norman is a corrupt cop, seductive and brutal, with a dog's instinct for tracking people. And he's getting close. Rosie can feel just how close he's getting. A brilliant dark-hued fable of the gender wars, a haunting love story, and a hold-your-breath-until-you- gasp triumph of suspense, Rose Madder is Stephen King at his electrifying best. --front flap