With smell, taste, and sound remaining to guide him, the explosion that strands Paul Anders in a world of silhouette and shadow isn't about to keep him from his twin passions of women and the two-step. Donna Clark has short hair, slim hips, and a mouth that tastes like peaches. She says I'm a great dancer, t I dance great for a blind man. But when Paul shows up at her door, the only one home is her thirteen-year old son Tim, all arms and legs and the common sense of a month-old spaniel. As Paul tries to track down the boy's mother, threats come at him from every direction including a 6'5, 250-pound enforcer for a loan shark and a nymphomaniac social worker. Martha's ex-husband didn't pay for the dope he bought or return the money he borrowed to pay for it. Can Donna be involved? Paul's driver, six-foot, 24-year old Marcie Foss, an Aikido brown belt helps clean up the loose ends, but Paul, curmudgeon to the end, won't admit it.
Paul Anders lost his sight in an explosion at the 1992 Olympics. He was forced into an early retirement from the medical school where he taught and has adopted a second career as a writer, being among the earliest to take advantage of voice-recognition software. Like the protagonist of his mysteries, he owns and lives in a set of garden apartments in Huntington Beach. He isn't visited often enough by his three daughters.