The Spring of Our Disconnect


This morning, with all the news about Weinstein and cover-ups, new revelations, shock and disbelief (please, we’ve always known what goes on on the casting couch, in the priest’s confessional and under the politician’s desk), I am compelled to write a New Adult novel with a working title:  “The Spring of Our Disconnect”

“Once upon a time, when Mary had just turned twenty, still young enough to be naïve, but old enough to know better (she thought), she took a job and fell in love (at least that’s what she told herself to feel better) with a politician.”

Oh, but am I prepared to tell all about a good little Catholic girl saving herself for marriage and suddenly gone wild?

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