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  • Hannah Fielding - Romance Novelist

‘An epic love story that is beautifully told.’ The Sun




Secrets, danger and passion under the scorching Spanish sun from the award-winning author of The Echoes of Love. Set in the wild landscape of Andalucia, Indiscretion is a compelling story of love and identity, danger and desire, and the uncertainty of happiness when two worlds collide. Written in Fielding’s signature style, infused with an old-school Hollywood glamour, Indiscretion evokes the drama and passion of 1950s post-war Spain.

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Book Trailer


A young woman’s journey of discovery takes her to a world of forbidden passion, savage beauty – and revenge.

Spring, 1950. Alexandra de Falla, a half-English, half-Spanish youngwriter abandons her privileged but suffocating life in London andtravels to Spain to be reunited with her long-estranged family.

Instead of providing the sense of belonging she yearns for, the de Fallas are riven by seething emotions, and in the grip of the wild customs and traditions of Andalucía, all of which are alien to Alexandra.


Among the strange characters and sultry heat of this country, she meets the man who awakens emotions she hardly knew existed. But their path is strewn with obstacles: dangerous rivals, unpredictable events, and inevitable indiscretions. What does Alexandra’s destiny hold for her in this flamboyant land of drama and all-consuming passions, where blood is ritually poured on to the sands of sun-drenched bullfighting arenas, mysterious gypsies are embroiled in magic and revenge, and beautiful dark-eyed dancers hide their secrets behind elegant lacy fans?

Indiscretion is a story of love and identity, and the clash of ideals in the pursuit of happiness. But can love survive in a world where scandal and danger are never far away?

Extract of the Book

Papá? Papá … is it really you?’

Sí, soy yo. Fifteen years is a long time, I know.’ Don Alonso de Falla paused and then his mouth broke into a most disarming smile. ‘I’m glad you still recognize me.’

Her face frozen in shock, she didn’t return his smile. ‘What are you doing here, Papá? You didn’t write to say you were coming to London, I wasn’t expecting you.’

‘I wanted to surprise you on your birthday. Here, these are for you. May I come in?’

‘Yes, yes, of course. Thank you. They’re lovely.’ Alexandra took the flowers from him and placed them on the hall table.

‘I see the house hasn’t changed at all,’ noted Don Alonso as he stepped into the hall. ‘Oh, but enough of that. Mi querida Alexandra, deja que te mire, let me look at you,’ he declared, holding his daughter at arm’s length. ‘You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman … so like your mother.’ Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her warmly on both cheeks. ‘I know you must have a lot of questions, niña. Is there somewhere we can talk comfortably?’

Trying valiantly to regain her composure, Alexandra led him into the drawing room, to the two wing-backed chairs facing each other in front of the fire, which was already lit. Stunned, she sat down, looking across at the man she hadn’t seen since she was ten years old.

The one photograph she had of him, standing with her mother, depicted him as a much younger man, the way he was in her childhood memories. Now, although still handsome, his black hair and goatee were peppered with silver and his face was narrower and slightly worn-looking.

So he was back, after fifteen years, looking at her as if he were seeing her for the first time, no longer the vulnerable ten-year-old he had left behind in the charge of her protective but rather austere English aunt.

Don Alonso settled himself in the chair and gazed at her. ‘You have your mother’s pearly complexion and her beautiful dark copper hair,’ he told her wistfully.

Alexandra’s eyes momentarily clouded with tears. She had no real recollection of her mother and the few black-and-white photographs that Aunt Geraldine possessed were faded. Still, years of suppressed anger and resentment at her father’s absence made her reluctant to talk about her mother in front of him. She decided to be blunt.

‘So why have you waited until my twenty-fifth birthday to come back to London, Papá? Are you here on business for the family estate? When are you going back to El Pavón?’

‘Of course, I wanted to come back sooner.’ Don Alonso raised his hands defensively at her barrage of questions. ‘You know from my letters how difficult things have been. The uprising at home … then the war in Europe. And it wouldn’t have been easy to leave the country these past five years either.’

Knowing that wasn’t quite true, she stared at him defiantly. ‘But not impossible.’

‘No, not impossible.’ He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘Thankfully, the government seems to be steering us out of isolation, which is good for business.’ Noting her arched brow, he added hastily, ‘and of course, it made it easier to arrange this trip to see you. I’ve been out of your life far too long. You know, I’ve always regretted not being here, leaving your Aunt Geraldine to bring you up but, as your mother was gone, I thought you needed a female substitute. A girl needs a woman to guide her.’

‘They also need their fathers,’ Alexandra replied softly.

‘Yes, querida, so they do.’ He smiled sadly at her now and tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair as if deliberating what to say next. She almost felt sorry for him. At least he had taken the trouble to surprise her on her birthday and he had remembered the date, after all. She smiled at him for the first time.

‘I’m pleased to see you, Papá, truly I am. It’s just that it’s a bit of shock, seeing you after all these years with no warning at all.’


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