Like a chilly bird I have migrated south to Spain for the sun and the sun has slipped nervously away, in search of some warm weather, I suppose. It seems as if the financial crisis has effected the climate and it's is going to be years before we are back in balance.

I walk among the pine and olive trees thinking of titles for my new novel - it is a romance with erotic undertones, but a romance first, and I am just a little bit jealous of Katie, the "I" character, who has found Tom, the volunteer doctor who runs an orphanage and seems almost too good to be true. Is he?