I live in the Portland, Oregon area with a pesky cat who refuses to let me sleep in, enjoy traveling to England, researching my English ancestry, and creating stories on my computer. Unfortunately, I never found the Ian Richards of my life. The picture on the left was taken in 1955 on Easter Sunday, and she is the child within.
Rachel Hayward hoped to have a quiet thirtieth birthday alone. Instead, fate had different plans.
Caught in traffic and late for work, she can do nothing except wait for the freeway gridlock to ease. A three-car pileup has caused the snarl. Just as cars begin to move at a faster clip, Rachel takes her eyes off the road to gawk at the accident and rear-ends the car in front of her.
Sick over having ruined her day, she lowers her head onto the steering wheel and waits for the driver to begin a tirade over her stupidity. Instead, a kind man taps on her window showing genuine concern about her welfare. The brief colliding encounter suddenly starts a relationship between two strangers that takes off under odd circumstances.
When the couple gets to know each other on a more intimate level, their relationship turns into a conflicting set of desires and needs. Rachel is bound by a shameful, dark childhood. After she falls in love with the handsome Ian Richards, she is faced with the decision to leave him or finally confront her demons to obtain the one thing in life she's always needed--healing from the sexual abuse she endured as a little girl.