There’s something ancient and electric that stirs inside you when you set foot on African soil. The air vibrates with a kind of primal memory — the pulse of life before distraction, before noise. Out there, in the stillness of the savannah, you begin to hear your own heartbeat again. The sunsets stretch across the horizon like fire-colored silk, elephants move with sacred patience, and the nights sing with unseen life. You find yourself remembering what it feels like to be alive — to move in rhythm with the earth instead of against it. A true African safari doesn’t just show you animals; it shows you yourself — wild, awake, and uncontainable.
That’s what happens to the heroine in Mad Mischief. She goes to Africa chasing adventure but finds something far deeper — a reckoning with her own spirit. The landscape becomes her mirror; every thundering wildebeest, every whisper of grass carries a message she didn’t know she needed to hear. By the time she returns home, she’s no longer the same woman. The wildness of Africa has rearranged her soul — as it tends to do with anyone brave enough to answer its call. Be inspired, get your copy today at: Mad Mischief, A Novel