Come Fly with Me: A Novel

by Camille Di Maio

Oh, to be a child again. To have minds and skin unblemished by life’s inevitable burns.

Love is blind may be a well-worn phrase, but only because women often look into the dazzling brilliance of infatuation and allow it to eclipse the wisdom of the women who came before them. I

I’ve learned that sometimes fire needs to scorch the old land before it can be reborn into something new and better.

The love of a good man is a sacred thing. But the love of a good friend may be even more so.