WENDY WILDE wrote deliciously wicked novels of the sexual kind. Novels so hot, so prurient, they made her legions of fans. And haters. No subject matter was beyond her writer's fertile but kinky imagination. Her books made her rich and infamous and loved and hated. And now, dead and gone. Tag Bonewell, house dick at the Wellington Hotel, had never heard of her. Until the Wilde woman was found in suite 912 with three very neat, and accurately grouped, holes in her chest . . .
Ever have somebody in your life which you despise and yet desire more than anyone in your life? Ever feel life sucks and you know you're going down the wrong path, but feel helpless to change or you're unwilling to change? Ever had that special someone whom has always been there, but suddenly you see them differently? Ever have somebody who upsets and changes your life for the better? Meet Terry and Beth as they discover a whole new world which was always there; only needing the unexpected.
Are you ready for a story about a dashing, charming, handsome CIA operative who foils the diabolical plans for world domination by a nefarious villain? Sorry... wrong story! You will have to settle for this one! But it does involve someone associated with the CIA. The REAL CIA that is.