Publisher's Synopsis
'Beautifully crafted and wrapped in romance'
A lonely cottage sits peacefully by a secluded beach in Cornwall. Serenaded by the sea, and the beauty of the surrounding hillside. Home to two sisters - Olivia and Rosie - with uncanny abilities.
One day, the unconscious body of a man washes up on the beach. Rosie discovers, while tending to him, that there is more to him than meets the eye.
The interjection of this stranger in the sisters' sleepy lives leads them down a road latent with discovery. Not only of their shocking identities. But also of love.
How will the troika fare when they find themselves in a love triangle?
Olivia took a step forward. A tentative one. Then more steps followed.
"Oly", Rosie warned, refusing to follow her sister.
The closer Olivia got, the more the unknown form grew into clarity, until she was staring at a young man, faced down in the sand, wet, and naked, with the waves lapping at his feet.
He was still. Lost to the clinginess of the sand in which he lay, or any feeling at all, except for that of oblivion.
"Go get some clothing, Rosie." Olivia called.
Rosie was hesitant. She didn't want to leave her sister behind with a stranger, even though he appeared dead.
"Rosie." Olivia called again. And she ran off. In no time, she returned with a huge towel, which she flung towards Olivia. Olivia picked it up, spread it open, and draped it over the lower half of the man's body. Then she turned him over, slowly, covering him up in the process.
Olivia then noticed movement, the quiet up-and-down of the man's chest. It was so faint, she hadn't noticed it at first. He was alive. Olivia felt the cold flush of relief. And she didn't know why.
Like as if a veil lifted off her eyes, the young man became more prominent, his beauty coming into focus. He had a swimmer's body, lean, strong toned muscles, long dark lashes, shoulder-length black hair glossy with wetness...
Then Olivia saw other things. A trail of red running down his forehead. Cuts, like little lips, all over his arms.
"Everything okay?" Rosie called out.
"Go get the doctor, Rosie." Olivia replied.
"Is he..."
"Just get the doctor." Olivia said, cutting her off.
Rosie turned, and sprinted towards the cottage. Soon, a brown truck pulled out the backyard, and took the dirt track leading to the village some miles away.
Olivia remained at the beach, kneeling by the young man. The waves licked at the edges of her nightgown. Her hair whipped across her face. It would take some time before Rosie got back with the doctor. She rubbed her palms across her bare arms. She just realized how cold it was. She looked down at the young man, at the wounds on his body, and the serenity on his face. She knew a thing or two about dressing wounds. She coiled her arms through his armpits, and noticed, oddly, how warm his body was. She was just about to lift him up, when...
"Olivia?"
She paused. If she wasn't feeling so cold, she would have felt goose bumps wash over her as her skin prickled. She had just picked up a thought. Nobody lived at the beach except her and Rosie. And Rosie had just gone into the village. It couldn't be the young man. He was unconscious. That meant... that meant...
Olivia's heart began to pound again. Could it be? That the person who did this to the young man was still around? And now had come to check if the job was done?
Olivia heard a footstep behind her. One, two, three... It was coming closer. Run. Escape. She looked ahead. All she could see was the sea, writhing and blue.
