“A Great Summer Read.”

 - JANE GREEN, NY TIMES BEST SELLING AUTHOR

“India’s Summer avoids the familiar clichés of LA and yet captures the character of the city so well.”

– ORLANDO BLOOM

Buy the Book:

US:
- Amazon / Kindle / Nook

UK:
- Amazon / Kindle

 


 

India Butler, single and about to turn forty, travels to LA in an attempt to reinvent her life. In a world rarely illuminated by the flashbulbs of the paparazzi, she discovers the true meaning of “having it all.

 


Excerpts from “India’s Summer”:

Annabelle was India’s older sister. Older by only two minutes, India thought, but what a head start, because, clearly, in those two minutes, she had worked out exactly what she wanted to do with her life. She was truly passionate about acting. When she was a kid, Annabelle would watch and rewatch movies for days. Bugsy Malone, India recalled with a smile.

 

India just wasn’t driven in the same way. She didn’t take private voice lessons, write her own shows, or win a coveted scholarship to the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts when she was eighteen. She wasn’t a household name in England after starring in several award-winning BBC series. And she certainly hadn’t married a rock star like Joss. India sighed.

 

What had triggered her sister’s extraordinary drive? she wondered, knocking back her wine. Maybe it was their parents’ separation when the girls were teenagers. It was such a cliché: Husband has affair with wife’s best friend. “Aunty Dora’s run off with Dad,” was how it felt to India. She’d watched her mother turn from the vivacious life and soul of every party to a withdrawn depressive. India would come home from school to a house filled with cigarette smoke and the sight of her mother coiled up in the fetal position on the bed.

 

Annabelle’s form of escape, avoiding the house and throwing herself into more and more acting classes, seemed to have worked out better than India’s, whose own response had been to throw herself into a world of her imagination. India was the one making dinner and taking care of her mother on those endless winter nights when the house was deadly quiet. She buried herself in books, finding connection in Anna Karenina, Bonjour Tristesse, and works by Lévêque de Vilmorin, hoping that one day her own life might mimic a romance novel.


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