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“Limpid water lapped at her legs, and Georgia wriggled her tocsin the silky sand beneath her feet. If she squinted hard enough, she swore she could make out the African coast shimmering in the distance- Tunisia? Algeria? She swished her hands through the water, startling a school of yellow fish who darted past her knee. A cerulean sky loomed above her, a blanket of white-sand beach stretched behind her. The scene had all the trappings of a Harlequin novel: the exotic Sicilian locale, the deserted beach, the bikini-clad heroine. All that was missing was the hunky stud who would stride out of the water Fabio-style, pecs rippling, long hair cascading down his back.” — Jenny Nelson
Limpid water lapped at her legs, and Georgia wriggled her tocsin the silky sand beneath her feet. If she squinted hard enough, she swore she could make out the African coast shimmering in the distance- Tunisia? Algeria? She swished her hands through the water, startling a school of yellow fish who darted past her knee. A cerulean sky loomed above her, a blanket of white-sand beach stretched behind her. The scene had all the trappings of a Harlequin novel: the exotic Sicilian locale, the deserted beach, the bikini-clad heroine. All that was missing was the hunky stud who would stride out of the water Fabio-style, pecs rippling, long hair cascading down his back.