It’s time to check out book number five in my steamy suspense romance series. The title is WEALTH. I’ll admit I had a ball with this. Our heroine Kaitlyn isn’t a greedy girl. She works shifts as a traffic cop, scrapes by for cash and still doesn’t really know who she is or what she wants. Then the storm hits her. The first wave is infinite sexual love with a fabulous man. The second wave is infinite money. The rest of the story is about enjoying both. Hey – I loved imagining and writing this story. I’ve not quite been the same since and it’s not because of money…..I’ll explain.
You guys know that I try to write about real places I’ve seen for myself. If it feels real to me I’m hoping that’s the way it comes off the page. I adore Paris, so I had to check out the little bistro in the Latin Quarter where a daring kidnap and shoot-out takes place.
Then the story heads for Italy. First up is the high fashion world of Milan and a hotbed of inter-mafia tensions. Just as I was wondering how to get there, my partner surprised me with a little trip. These days kids go through the routine of gap years and back-packing tours of the globe. Back then neither of us had the freedom or money to do that stuff. We went to work, paid the taxes and dreamed of a pensioner’s cruise – maybe. With a book to research why not join the back-pack trail and head off for Italy? The kids groaned and rolled eyes but what’s the use of parents if they don’t embarrass you? We set off by train to see Milan, Rome, Florence and Venice. What could possibly go wrong? What danger could there be in admiring the architecture of the fabulous rail station of Milan while waiting to catch the train to Rome?
There I was loaded with my unfamiliar heavy back-pack, wobbling along the uneven concrete forecourt. A pothole, probably left by Mussolini, seduced my foot and I crashed to the ground, trapped by my luggage. There was pain. I knew it was bad. My partner hauled me up and draped me on the hood of a taxi. We had a conference. Life is about choices: My partner made a sympathetic male patriarch type decision.
“I think you’ve broken your humerus. Generally they put you in a sling and tell you to smile through the pain. We’ve paid for an hotel and a very expensive Vatican tour tomorrow. We go on to Rome, buy a sling and maybe pray for divine intervention in St Peter’s. Then we see the sights. If you don’t cry and howl I’ll buy you an ice cream. Then we go to the hospital.”
And that is what we did. My arm was swollen and black. The X-Ray showed the break and the fragmentation of the ball joint. We bought a deluxe high fashion Italiano sling at a shop recommended by the hospital. My man bought me an ice cream. I smiled through the pain as we flew home without going on to Florence or Venice. The rest was one handed typing and physio. It took me at least six months to get back to anything like normal.
Far more importantly, I had seen the venues I wanted for Seduction of Wealth. At last I felt as if I had truly suffered for my art. Very soon I’m going to plan a story in Florence and Venice. I’ll be back.
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