38 degrees Centigrade is 100 in good old traditional Fahrenheit. This is the not quite the mellow fruitfulness that the English poet Keats wrote about the British Autumn and I’m HOT. Here in South West France is full on Emma Calin style bursting lust. So much fruit, colour and sheer reproductive joy is just spilling and spilling out all around me. I can’t stop it or even hold it back. I’m just making jam, pickles and relish in my kitchen and hot hot love in my office as I boil up the next Passion Patrol story. I pick ripe sweet figs and tomatoes hot hot hot in the sun. It’s passion in the pot and passion on the page. Nature gets you to a point where you just can’t hold back and you just have to let go……..
If you can’t wait here’s a crop of full FREE summer fruity reads. https://www.instafreebie.com/gg/D4HRfkFCEiKqXiP84N7A