The Island of the Skull (King Kong) (Mass Market Paperback)

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Entrepreneur and filmmaker Carl Denham struggles to make a name for himself in the entertainment industry -- but all of his charisma and showmanship may have to take a back seat to the greatest adventure yet to come...

Vaudeville regular and struggling actress Ann Darrow leaves the lights of Broadway behind for the sand and shores of Atlantic City -- and makes a very personal connection that will have ramifications on a life-altering experience yet to come...

Former Navy diver Sam Kelly, down on his luck in a Depression-ravaged San Francisco, throws caution to the wind and takes a shaky job on an even shakier pearl-diving ship, destined for one of the most extraordinary -- and dangerous -- locales on the face of the earth...

Three individuals leading separate lives -- all inextricably bound by the hands of fate, each drawing inexorably closer to a place that will test the very limits of their humanity?and change the world forever....

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter One

Fortieth Street and Eighth Avenue,

New York City

Ann Darrow sat on the hard wood chair -- one of three -- that faced the secretary's desk. The woman opposite her turned the pages of the Daily News while she chewed and popped her gum.

It was odd -- as if Ann weren't even here. The wooden blinds sent slices of brilliant sun into the room and, at this angle, she could see thousands of tiny dust motes floating in the air.

Floating, she thought, like me...loose, no direction.

Maybe even a bit lost.

Her dream of being an actress, of having a career...it all seemed so fantastic now, almost impossible.

She looked at the office door. Every now and then she heard a laugh indicating that the meeting was still going on.

She had been waiting for thirty minutes...thirty minutes past her appointment. As if she didn't feel worthless enough.

Ann turned and looked at the door to the office, the beveled glass showing the backward letters that read victor major theatricals. Then, below it, agents to the stage and screen.

Screen.

That's where all the buzz was, Ann knew. Moving pictures kept getting bigger and bigger, and New York might not be the place to be anymore.

And what were her chances of getting to Hollywood, to act, to where this new world of movies was exploding despite the tough times?

None. Not without money.

And so far any money she earned was just barely enough to keep her going, pay the rent, pay for food.

She looked down at her shoes. Though she had polished them earlier, Ann saw that they still had scuff marks around the edges. New York was a tough town on shoes. And she had only two pair, and her others were showing even more signs of wear.

Her fingers held her hat tight. After her first check from the Follies, she had bought the hat. To treat herself. The style was perfect, and she loved how cute it looked. Though the curtain operator at those shows said, "Hey, Annie...looks like a helmet. You wanna nab a fella or go to war?"

Manny, her protector and the man who made her look so funny in their Follies act, said it was adorable.

Though it was a comic act, still it was...an act. An important step, she had thought.

If only the show had run longer...

Manny said something would turn up. Irons in the fire, he remarked.

There were always new shows, new productions, and always a new bunch of kids, singers, dancers, actors, waiting in the wings.

Waiting in the wings...

The secretary looked up in mid-chew. She didn't smile at Ann. Guess I'm not a very high-ticket client, she thought. Not even worth the occasional smile, or "Mr. Major will be right with you."

But then there was another burst of laughter, closer now, and the inner office door opened.

Victor Major, all four feet of him, came out, a chunky arm on the shoulder of someone easily a foot or two taller. That man, still grinning from whatever joke, looked down at Ann. A bold appraisal. Another good-looking lug who thinks he's God's gift to women.

Then Ann thought she recognized him. He starred in that new Cole Porter musical, Gay Divorce. Yeah, she had seen him.

The actor held the look for a moment as if asking, Hey, doll, wanna walk out with me and twenty-three skidoo the meeting with your tubby agent?

Ann turned away as the agent steered his client to the door.

"Right, right, well, you just keep those matinee ladies coming back for more, and 1932 will be a very good year."

The man turned to Major at the door. "I will do my very best. And you make sure you follow up with those film people."

Film. A fancy name for the photoplays. Fancier even than movies. Film. It's where Ann knew she should be, making people laugh.

"You got it, Roger. I'm watching out for you."

The two men shook hands, and then the dashing actor with the self-important smile left the room.

Major took a moment to st