From birth, Alain and Alina Alastair are a scientific miracle--identical male-female twins--a biological impossibility.  Destined to tread the farther, forbidden paths, they discover love, lust, and danger lurking in their future.  When their parents whisk their miracle children home to an isolated island, their lives reach a turning point.

Alain craves escape from the seclusion.
Alina yearns to express her love with a man who treasures her.
The secrets at Alastair Keep threaten to undermine the very foundations of the world in which these impossible twins live.

REVIEW

Nightingale writes an interesting plot. The twists are logical and believable because the reader can identify with the trials of the characters. The hero captivated this reader.

Reviewed by: Long and Short of It Reviews
www.longandshortreviews.com

EXCERPT

Alain tucked the in-flight magazine into the seat pocket and gazed out the scratched window of the 747. Distance vanished on clouds fleeing beneath the silver wings, carrying him from a dark-eyed beauty to a fair-haired princess locked in an island castle. From one life in the sun to a score of problems.

Someone was going to get hurt.

Already he hurt—a low throbbing like a toothache. If he returned to Portugal, Alina would be devastated. His father would disown him. If he picked up his discarded heritage, a part of him would die and Maritza would grieve. For a time. He wasn’t vain enough to think the black-haired beauty would die without him.

The choice lay in his hands.

Damn life got complicated when he tried to declare independence from The Keep. He shifted his long legs cramped beneath the airline seat. He preferred not to think, but fragments of memory plagued the corners of his eyes.

A vivid picture of Alina supplanted images of recent days drenched white-hot by a Portuguese sun. His twin’s presence was more corporeal than the woman sitting to his left. Welcome or not, Alina was there inside him, the mere thought of her a compulsion. He sensed her anticipation mounting as the miles melted. Excitement tingled over him. In self defense, he grasped at a memory of riding the splendid Lusitano stallions. As he pictured Maritza framed in an arbor of roses, his heart dived.

His seat mate muttered something. He smiled vaguely at the tiny movie screen where imaginary figures acted out their roles. The film would end happily; every desire fulfilled. He hated the silver screen people. Things never turned out right—except in the movies.