She hadn't imagined love as arriving with a shaved chest...This was Daisy Duke Fabbri's first intimation that life as a divorcee was going to be odd." But it's not that odd, it's even predictable as her second lover arrives with brooding eyes and a Spanish nobleman's background. "And thus began what for a long time they both called a miracle." Along with this alarmingly romantic affair the author presents pseudo snatches of the dolce vita style among San Francisco's upper Bohemian set...artists, pill takers, parties, suicides, champagne, long weekends and, according to this, the New Yorker. Daisy and Pablo's frenetic love is marred somewhat by Daisy's pregnancy and subsequent abortion. The relationship inevitably collapses, Pablo returns to wife, family and sunny Spain but Daisy's true love number three lurks just beyond the horizon as the sun sinks over the Golden Gate... It's done up in a perfumed prose that smells exactly like soap...opera. And the artless agonizing will be the despair of the reader.