About the Author
Born and educated in England, Flora Kidd started to write stories for her friends at an early age. These were tales of romance, mystery or mayhem and were sometimes ghostly or gruesome. Often she re-wrote them as scripts for plays in which she and her friends acted to entertain their families. A teacher of English and History, Flora had been married for several years and was expecting her fourth child when she decided to submit a short mystery novel to a publisher. It was accepted on the condition she discarded the mystery element and concentrated on the romance. A new career opened before her. She abandoned teaching and for the next twenty three years wrote sixty three romances all published by Mills and Boon, England They were distributed throughout the world in many different languages.
Although now retired from writing for Mills and Boon, Flora still writes stories for her friends. Truly versatile and adventurous she has written and published several historical adventure stories for young adults and has recently completed a historical romance UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN. She hopes that her many fans will enjoy reading it when it comes out as a book on disk in July 1998. Recently she has been writing shorter romances. TRUE LOVE is an example and will appear On Line soon. At present she is at work on a romantic suspense set in the South of France.
Flora now lives with her husband in New Brunswick, Canada. They enjoy sailing their small wooden boat together on the Saint John River and traveling in Europe and the United States. As a change from writing she enjoys painting in watercolors and is a member of a local artist s cooperative. She is also on the board of directors of the Writers Federation of New Brunswick.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Elizabeth began to move away but he caught hold of her skirt. "Don't go yet," he pleaded." Sit beside me, stay with me, talk to me, keep the dreams away."
"Captain, you must know the rules I have to obey. Nurses are not allowed to sit on the beds. Let go of my skirt at once."
"Not until you tell me the colour of your hair."
"The colour of my hair is none of your business."
"But it is," he insisted softly. "It's very much my business. I want to know all about you. I want to strip away that ugly habit you wear and that concealing wimple. I want to see the woman who is hiding under black wool. I'll wager your skin is as white and lustrous as a pearl and your breasts are small and untouched and your legs are long and shapely."
"Oh." Her efforts to keep her temper were overcome by a hot flare up of anger. "Stop talking to me as if I were a...as if...."
"As if you were my mistress? My lover? I wish you were both,"
"Let me go. Let me go at once," she raged.
"I can't see your hair because of that damned silk square you wrap around it," he whispered. "You're a nun of some sort, aren't you? Is that why you are afraid of me? Most women who are nuns are afraid of men."
