Salt on my skin, Chardonnay & the windswept Seadog of your dreams
If you’re anything like me and wholeheartedly over the plethora of productivity porn clogging up your socials, then I’ve got some good news.
Get this book and stay in bed.
I don’t tend to pick up overt romance novels. To my mind, what use is fictionalised romance when the simple heartache of everyday life brings enough drama to existence?
In this case though, a copy of Salt on my Skin was forced into my hand by my aforementioned book-wielding friend as I went to…