This is a window into my heroine’s mind and why she seeks sexual adventures most of us can only dream of…

I was different because I understood when it counted. I had the advantage of having stared death in the face. The lingering memory of dull pain, plus physical and emotional exhaustion, was swimming in some chasm in a far-off land, a burning ember in a junkyard of flammable old sofas, waiting to ignite a disaster zone at any moment. All the idling, petty thoughts of others, they wearied me. I was cut off from everyone who had not battled the same burdens. I was alone and misunderstood. I was different. I was a statistic. I would be judged unless I told my story and I did not want pity. No. Not that. So, I did whatever it took to remain hidden, or unseen: a ghostly spectre that swished in and out of hotel rooms, taking comfort in my inconspicuousness. A behind-the-scenes girl who was happy enough in her own private achievements. I did not need questions or queries, interrogation or intervention. I needed to stay hidden. Bury the pain deep down, manifest it any other way, just not face it. Not that.


A Fine Profession, eBook out now on Amazon UK and US and beyond…

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