Some of you will have no clue of what this book is, about which I chunter so endlessly.
The latest is that I have an illustrator and a design team and have now been charged with the frankly-slightly-terrifying job of deciding what kind of thing I want on the cover, so the illustrator can produce a rough sketch. Eek! And ooh! I have a week to make my mind up. I have some ideas though, thank Dog.
Anyway. Here is the blurb. Just in case you were wondering, like.
Dance Your Way to Psychic Sex
by mutter mumble.
It's completely mental.
Or so Leo thinks, and he should know - because Leo is a mentalist.
Henrietta thinks people should stay the hell out of each other’s heads, keep their hands to themselves, and dance with people they know. Not with strangers. Not in public. And especially not psychically. That’s just ridiculous.
Psychic Dancing is a New Age sensation, but is it a trick of the mind? A harmless self-help technique? Or a breakthrough in human consciousness, which will end all pain and disease?
Leo makes money from reading minds, so he knows full well it’s a con. But Leo’s gigs are poorly attended, and Psychic Dancing’s a hit. So when his dead grandad sends an insult from the grave, Leo does something drastic.
Henrietta’s past won’t leave her alone, her neighbour's a Psychic Dancing fanatic and Henrietta’s fallen in love with Belle, who loves Leo, who loves Denzel, who will only love him back if Leo admits he’s gay.
The climax comes in the Albert Hall in the presence of thousands, when something magical happens. Something which shocks them all.
Told with humour, magical know-how and a twisted eye, this book is an energetic and intriguing tale of love, lust and illusion. With a cast of tricksters, worshipers, lovers and bent spoons, it will have you guessing - and believing - to the end.
We easily believe what we ardently desire to be true.