This was the case with my true lovers, Mirandi Summers and the wild boy who stormed her family citadel and stole her away under their very straight noses, one Joseph Sinclair.
Joe was a product of passion gone wrong. His earliest, most trusted loves betrayed him in the most destructive ways. Wounded the boy, haunted the man.
I loved writing Joe’s and Mirandi’s story. I wanted them to experience a soul – satisfying journey, but it seemed only fair my readers should enjoy a little travel at the same time. So while Joe and Mirandi come together like magnetically drawn cymbals, and clash and spark, snarl and kiss, love and grow, the reader flies with them to Zurich, tastes the fleshpots of the Cote d’Azur, dabbles at the casino in Monte, swims in the Mediterranean, cruises down the Corniche to Nice and…
Promenade des Anglais – Nice, France
Antibes, Southern France
Oh well. All that fun, luxury and indulgence, the hotel hi-jinks, the flirtinis and the rose petals…
You really need to read the book.