A sequel to Driftwood, High Tide continues the story of Rita Capri, a dedicated beachcomber who has beached herself on the shores of Cannon Beach, Oregon. After having lost her love after a mere 6 years together, she buries herself in grief and makes an art of it. She loses her father and mother following the death of her lover, and each time has to find a way to deal with grief. Soon after her mother's passing, her departed lover speaks to her, encouraging her to move on and open her heart to love. She then encounters a new and intriguing woman who reminds her of her late partner, although she is connected to Rita in ways Beth never was. After their initial encounter, they find themselves attracted to each other, but are unsure if it is love or infatuation. Neither of them is interested in being hurt again. Excerpts from High Tide: Then I cried out loud, "Damnit, Beth, why did you have to leave me? Now I am the only one again " In the quiet of the car, I heard her soft voice in my head whispering, "You're not the only one. I'm still nearby, but it's time you found someone you can hold at night." Not having heard her voice in a while, I was startled by this sudden piercing of the veil. "Open your heart again to love, Rita. You need someone to treasure you. I'm still here and always will be, but there's someone out there for you. Allow her to find you." "What do you mean?" I called to the air. Quietly she repeated. "Allow her to find you. She's looking for you." I slammed my fist down on the steering wheel. "But I want you " I felt her quiet denial of this request. Then the silence in my head nearly deafened me. Her palpable physical absence created a vacuum in my mt heart and my arms. I couldn't even bring myself to fill that void with tears. Then somewhere in the quiet of the car, a spark of hope lit a flame of wonder inside me. She's looking for me. She's looking for me. She's looking for me We melted into a soft kiss that grew more frantic and hungry. I knew she'd have to leave soon, but before she did, I wanted to make love to her one more time, this time in my bed, rather than on the hard floor of our desperation. I wanted this love act to flow from a place of knowing, a place of tenderness. When the kiss slowed, I took her hand and led her to my bedroom. Once there, I pulled back the fresh sheets and pulled her shirt up over her head again and began a slow dance of lovemaking that was rapidly melting into a pool of love. Love that was based in understanding. I had an irresistible yearning for something powerful enough to reach in and pry me from this refuge that had been meant to keep at bay the pain of life. My heart was opening again to love and a life that sometimes slammed you against the rocks. I was willing to open up every pore in my body, even if it meant being smashed again.