Is 'A Good Scent From A Strange Mountain' Based On True Stories?

What is the taste of betrayal? It’s bitter, like the fading fragrance of wilted roses. Camille, a talented yet proud perfumer, suddenly loses her sense of smell after a fateful accident. On the verge of despair and the collapse of her family’s fragrance brand, she is forced to collaborate with Antoine Moreau, a digital scent developer. Amidst the splendor of Paris, in a clash between tradition and technology, new scents begin to emerge – not only from the perfume bottles but also from Camille's heart, which she thought had long been closed.

Queenie Livingston, my best friend whom I have cared for over the years, gives me a bottle of perfume. I immediately turn around and pour its contents down the toilet. In my previous life, that perfume made me sprout hair all over my body and reek. I was shunned by my colleagues, and my then-boyfriend and superior, Preston Zimmerman, wasted no time in dumping me and hooking up with Queenie. I desperately sought medical treatment back then, but with nowhere left to turn, I died in utter agony and despair. Only after my death did I learn that the grotesque condition was caused by the perfume Queenie had maliciously tampered with. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the exact day Queenie gave me the perfume.

PSA: This book has high smut intensity, intoxicating chemistry and compelling family and sibling rivalry. Aanoni Adukolapo was raised to lead. He is disciplined, charismatic, egoistic, and heir to a fortune. At twenty-eight, he has carved his name into a perfume empire, a revolt against his father’s tight reins. But power has never unsettled him the way Ere does. Ereadurami is thirty-five: elegant and dangerously alluring. The kind of woman who should be sacred, a taboo, and off-limits in Yoruba culture. Her boutique displays her clothing artistry, work of a master. She is sweet, refined, but behind that subtle demeanor lies a hungry succubus. What begins as a random suggestion inside her boutique soon spirals into a hunger neither of them can resist. Every glance, every stare, every breath is calculated, meant not to seem weak. She is older, forbidden, and everything his father would use to destroy him. But the closer Aanoni gets to Ere, the harder it becomes to care about consequences. Desire is intoxicating, hypnotic and surrendering to her might be the most reckless, irresistible rebellion of all. Ere’s Scent is a sensual and erotic tale of age-gap temptation, power, and passion where legacy clashes with lust, where rebellion clashes with passion , and one forbidden woman could bring an empire to its knees.

I had worked for Customs and Border Protection for five years, but my unusually sensitive sense of smell was classified, so my husband always believed I was an ordinary office assistant. On our third wedding anniversary, I saw the husband who claimed he had to work late standing in the airport arrivals hall. He was gently brushing the hair away from his ex-girlfriend Celeste Vaughn's face, smiling at her tenderly. When he noticed me, he lowered his hand as though nothing had happened and instinctively stepped in front of her. "Nora, did you follow me? It's only a stupid anniversary. Is missing it going to kill you? "Go on, then. What do you want this time? A purse? Shoes? Jewelry?" The surrounding travelers looked me up and down with contempt. It felt like being slapped in public. I pushed the ultrasound image deeper into my pocket and pinched my trembling fingertips. "I didn't follow you." "Damien, thank you for meeting my flight, but your wife is more important. Be good and spend today with her. "And don't speak to a woman so harshly. Apologize." Damien Cole stiffly muttered, "Sorry." My eyes widened. I couldn't believe the proud, untouchable Damien had obeyed her so readily. My heart sank. Celeste patted Damien's shoulder, took the suitcase from his hand, nodded politely to me, and turned toward the exit checkpoint. Then a strange odor reached me. I stepped in front of her. "I'm sorry, but open your suitcase. Customs needs to inspect it."

Arman's life seems perfect - a happy marriage, a cheerful little daughter, and a life in a quiet town where nothing seems to go wrong. His life feels like a dream built from love, trust and years of happiness. But beneath the silence of the little town, something awaits. What begins as small, unsettling incidents slowly turn into a nightmare that Arman cannot escape. Secrets begin to surface, fear begins to creep into his home and the life he once treasured starts to slip through his fingers. As fear begins to consume his family, he realized that some nightmares begin with the ones closest to you. And by the time he discovers the truth, it may already be too late

Late at night, when I think I'm alone, I feel his breath on the side of my face, and I know--he's watching me. Ever since I moved into this ancient mansion to take care of my sick aunt, I've been experiencing strange things. When I discover she has a boarder, a mysterious, sexy artist who lives on the third floor, I think some of that is explained. The bumps in the night. The whispers from the shadows. But once Dalton and I are properly introduced, the strange occurrences don't stop. If anything, they are amplified. When I close my eyes at night, it's his face I see. It's his hands I feel. It's his lips I taste. The more I get to know him, the more I realize I don't know him at all. Dalton's not the kind of man that buys a woman flowers and makes her feel all warm and fuzzy. No, he's the kind of man your mama would tell you to run from. Cold. Dangerous. Complex. And now that he wants me, I learn he is more than that. Possessive. Controlling. Diabolical. I should leave this place before it's too late, but I know I can't. Whatever it is that's sunk it's fangs into him, it has me, too. He has me, too. For better or worse. 'Til death... Whispers of the Devil is a dark romance which some readers may find disturbing. Proceed with caution.