Sunday, February 28, 2016

Beware the Magical Jewel Thief #ScintillatingSunday #ParanormalRomance

He's got her right where he wants her...or so she's letting him think


 Excerpt of Story 2, The Bounty, from the Daydreams erotic paranormal short story collection

She scooted forward on her knees and further into the light. She leaned forward, her hair tickling the side of his face and whispered, "We have a few hours to play, Jake. Isn't that what you really crave? My body, my lips, my hands, my heat?" 

He gulped and leaned his head away from hers until he could look her in the eye. "Seduction won't change how this ends."

"I know." She sat back on her heels. "Why have I been toying with you all this time, Jake? Because I want what you want." 

He knew that this had to be another one of her manipulations, yet his cock twitched in response to the suggestion. 

"Do you ever stop lying?"

"The key to a successful con is to always mix in some truth."

He decided to test the dare by reaching out and grabbing the top of the zipper on her left shoulder. "Is this what you want me to do?"

She arched an eyebrow. "Isn't it what you want to do?"

From the back cover...

Daydreams, moments of what-ifs and possibility.


Imagine...a ghostly mariner haunting the shores of Ireland who reminds a lonely woman how beautiful life is...a bounty hunter who gets more than he bargained for with his bail-jumping witch of a jewel thief...and a bar owner who discovers the joy of being loved by two other-worldly visitors trapped in a desperate situation...Daydreams, a collection of paranormal erotic short stories.

Escape the madness of the world, indulge your naughty side, and lose yourself in fantasy.

**sexually explicit, paranormal, and some dark themes**


Currently exclusive to Amazon (until mid-March)
Indulge in fantasy today


Saturday, February 27, 2016

He Died Too Young and Can't Let Her Go #ParanormalRomance #MySexySaturday

"Death is no more than passing from one room into another."

–– HELEN KELLER


Excerpt of the deeply emotional and deliciously decadent erotic paranormal romance, Blurred Lines...


"You're so sad, I don't want you to be sad anymore."

Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes despite his words. "How can I not be sad? You were my world."

"That's not true." He kissed her, the touch like a breeze over her lips. "You had it goin' on when I met you, don't you remember? You ignored me because I looked like an uptight lawyer in my suit. You were at that restaurant with all of your artist friends and I couldn't stop staring. You avoided going out with me for a full month, always too busy working. Don't you remember? You never needed me. You wanted me. There's a difference."

She shook her head, unwilling to remember. Hanging onto sorrow had protected her from living without him. She didn't want to remember life pre-Shane...and she didn't want to think about life post-Shane. Limbo felt like a safer place to hide from reality. 

Now she had conjured him up from memory; that had to be the only explanation. She'd taken talking to the void a step further. 

"You can't be real." She touched her fingers to his face even as she said the words.  She shook her head 'no' as her thumb moved along his chin. The energy rippling beneath her fingertips zapped like electrical shocks rather than a solid form. Maybe she had lost her mind, which was the only explanation she could trust. She slid her fingers over his lips with fascination and relaxed against the sofa cushions. Eyes narrowed, she stared at the image above her. She wanted to believe, but her imagination had gotten her into trouble in the past. She whispered, "I see you everywhere."

"I am everywhere." His smile made her heart ache with longing. 

From the back cover...

Only the good die young. When Shane Weston is murdered before prosecuting a key member of the Mexican drug cartel, he can't accept the idea that all of the plans he had had for his life will never come true. More than that, he can't let go of the love he has for his fiancée.

Love never dies. Sierra Daniels is crushed after Shane's death. Head writer on a successful television series, she can't get back into the groove of life. All enthusiasm for work is gone. Ready to quit everything, she travels to her cabin in Lake Tahoe in hopes of escaping everyone's expectations and disappearing for a while.

The lines between right and wrong often blur. Alexander Blaine has risked his future on a career change from DEA agent to lead consultant and writer on hit television series. Sierra's grief has shadowed everyone around her, including him, and jeopardizes both of their careers. Unwilling to accept defeat, he follows her to Lake Tahoe determined to break through the barrier enveloping her and make her see that life is still worth living.

Letting go is like a death. Sierra never thought she would be caught in a love triangle between her writing partner, Alex, and the love of her life, Shane—especially because her ex-fiancé is now a ghost. Tormented with both guilt for moving on with someone else and a desire to be free of the past, she's into the gray area of right, wrong, life, death, ghosts, dreams—the part of life where all the lines are blurred. 

Start reading now at

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Writing Strong and Believable #Paranormal Characters



There's something incredibly freeing about writing paranormal stories where the imagination knows no bounds. Our characters can morph into another species, shoot fire from their palms, control the wind, read minds, and so much more. Despite the fantastical elements of a paranormal story, it's still important that the reader believe the characters are possible and are still able to relate to them. Whether writing about magicians, witches, wizards, mermen/mermaids, psychics, or any other character that is magical and mystical, there are a few traits to keep in mind.

Create a personality profile, just like you would with any other character, but remember that your paranormal character is larger than life, too. Witches, wizards, and demigods, for instance, need to convey a sense of power. Below are a list of personality traits to incorporate into your paranormal character--no need to use them all, but these are some to consider:

  1. Intelligence. Supernatural powers require an above average intellect, critical thinking, critical analysis, and the ability to make difficult, fast decisions.
  2. Excellent memory--for rituals, spells, ingredient lists, and things of that nature. 
  3. Creativity. Those in the supernatural world need to adapt quickly to new situations, be open-minded to the unexpected. 
  4. Self-disciplined and focused. A supernatural being or those with magical powers need to be able to shut out distractions, even under difficult circumstances. They must also be able to resist temptations that we mere mortals wouldn't.
  5. Patience. (especially true of witches) Magic requires endless practice and repetition and the impatient drop out long before they become masters. 
  6. Highly trained. Talent is not enough--an inclination toward the mystical is just that...an inclination and nothing more. Wizards, witches, demigods who wield the power of the Universe---are all trained how to manage their supernatural gifts. 
  7. Specialized. Not all supernatural beings are created equally---all have specialties that they've honed through practice combined with passion. Perhaps one can control the weather while another can manifest great wealth. Think of it like the medical field where doctors ultimately choose an area of concentration. 
  8. Musical. Many forms of magic or supernatural practices involve drumming or chanting or another form of musical communication. Think of your character...can you apply this somehow? 
  9. Spiritual. Most forms of magic are linked to religious beliefs and most myths are also linked to a higher form of power. Even an atheist will often engage in a form of meditation. 
  10. Well-organized and methodical. Supernatural characters always have more information than most or have ingredients on hand to whip up a magical concoction at a moment's notice. In comedic situations, of course, the disorganized witch creates disaster...but there is always a wizard or more skilled witch present to save the day. 
  11. Introverted. Whether it's because of their powers or their need to practice/study the craft, most supernatural and magical beings prefer solitude. After a night or a day in noisy places or with too many people, your character needs to retreat to solitude to recharge his/her energy. Even for the most gregarious and outgoing supernatural beings, there is usually a degree of retreat needed to reconnect with their power. 
  12. Ethical, except for your evil antagonist, of course. With supernatural power, comes the weight of moral judgement as to when to unleash it for the sake of the greater good or justice. These ethics may be connected to their spiritual connection or individual conscience. Modern magical ethics of "harm none" or "don't interfere with someone's free will" often come into play. This can be a powerful source of internal conflict with your hero/heroine as they debate on using their powers and the impact that choice could have on a broader scale. 
  13. Sharp senses. Supernatural and magical beings are in tune with the world around them, far beyond the senses of a regular human being. They can detect changes in energy, have excellent hearing, and keen eyesight. Their abilities have been fine tuned through intense training and years of awareness. But don't overdo this; for instance, don't make a psychic who can hear the dead also read the minds of the living because it provides little challenge and will ultimately create a boring story. Every character must have a limit to what they can do, even those with supernatural abilities. Remember that the reader must also relate and believe your character and that perfection is boring.
  14. Day job. Most supernatural characters interact with mortals every day--not only to pay the rent, but also to appear normal and make them connect to a community. 
  15. Pets. Most supernatural or magical characters have a pet of some kind. This doesn't need to be conventional. In my novel, Impact Zone, the merman has a pet sea lion. 
Paranormal stories are made extraordinary by being unique so use as many of the fifteen characteristics in your character as YOU deem appropriate; however, always remember that the reader must relate to and believe in your hero/heroine to keep them engaged.

Keep being sexy and sensational!
Dakota Skye
http://www.authordakotaskye.com

Author Dakota Skye is an erotic paranormal author fascinated with all things other-worldly and fantastic. She has seven paranormal romance novels and short story collections out in the world with four more novels slated for publication in 2016. Find details for all of her books at http://www.authordakotasky.com and follow her Facebook page at http://www.facebook.com/AuthorDakotaSkye 


Saturday, February 20, 2016

Embracing Primal Instincts on #ScintillatingSunday #ParanormalRomance

Welcome to the Scintillating Sunday Romance Blog Hop where multiple authors share eight paragraphs of their work that they find "scintillating." Here's some insight into the exciting erotic paranormal romance, Impact Zone, where a demigod named Nico Triton risks immortality for the woman he loves...

Excerpt...


God, she'd been starved for the taste of him. She nibbled his ear, slid her tongue over his neck, before locking her mouth on his. Tongues moved together as he walked, pausing to press her against the wall.

"I'm like a sex addict around you," he admitted against her open mouth. 

"Yeah, well, don't go to rehab. We can enable each other in this particular addiction." She sucked his lower lip. "Why is your house always full of people?"

He squeezed her ass, eyes gleaming with promise. "I need your kind of distraction." 

"Mmm...I'm happy to take your mind off things." She kissed him as if he were lunch and she'd die without him. 

He kicked open the door to his room before sliding her down the length of him until her feet touched the floor. He snagged her hand and backed toward the bed, giving her a chance to get a good look at him. Dressed in jeans and a black sweater with his ebony hair grazing his chin, he looked every bit as delectable as he had last night. "You can yell as loud as you want, my goddess. We have our own floor. Scream my name as much as you need." 

The words 'scream' and 'need' melted her on the spot. Damn, she wanted him in the worst ways.

"You bring out my primal instincts," he said against her neck.

 From the back cover...

He saved her life, but now he's being hunted.


Nico Triton has a secret. He's a merman who saved the life of a champion surfer. As the leader of the merfolk, his interference with Fate has had severe repercussions that only love will solve.

Murder on the beach.

Josie Wells knows how to conquer the waves, but when she witnesses a murder on her beach, the impact shatters the surfing community of Santa Cruz. The tragedy brings her up close and personal with her secret crush, the elusive billionaire, Nico Triton. 

Will their love be enough to bridge their two worlds?

Secrets become confessions and trust is tested as betrayal threatens their lives. When a merman falls in love with a surfer chic and two worlds collide, expect an Impact Zone of danger and passion.

*contains explicit sexual content


Catch a wave of intense romance and adventure now!

He Saved Her Life, Now He's Being Hunted #ParanormalRomance #MySexySaturday


He saved her life, now he's being hunted. 
A demigod, he's risked his world for the love of a mortal. 

Excerpt of Impact Zone, an erotic paranormal romance suspense, about Nico Triton, King of the Sea, and his love for a surfer chic named Josie that risks his entire kingdom of merfolk...


Normally, this is when she'd tell him to screw off and leave her alone because mind games weren't her thing; but nothing about this felt normal. 

"Do you also have a clan of some kind I need to know about?" she asked with a smirk. 

"I do, yes." He nodded without smiling and leaned closer until their bodies were a mere fraction apart. "There are things about me that the public can never know. Does that frighten you?"

Any woman with common sense would run like hell, she knew that, but her feet were rooted in place. The breath caught in her throat as she stared up into those riveting eyes of his.  Adrenaline surged past apprehension. She felt as if she were at a point break about to catch the wave of her life.

"I've risked a lot for you, Josie Wells." He touched a finger to the side of her face and grinned. "I need you to believe that I didn't kill that woman."

"You have a clan? What does that mean? Is it like a weird cult of some kind?" she whispered, terrified of being overheard. 

"No." He laughed and nodded toward the car. "Are you coming with me or not? Your choice. If you'd prefer never to see me again, I can easily go."

From the back cover...

He saved her life, but now he's being hunted.


Nico Triton has a secret. He's a merman who saved the life of a champion surfer. As the leader of the merfolk, his interference with Fate has had severe repercussions that only love will solve.

Murder on the beach.

Josie Wells knows how to conquer the waves, but when she witnesses a murder on her beach, the impact shatters the surfing community of Santa Cruz. The tragedy brings her up close and personal with her secret crush, the elusive billionaire, Nico Triton.
Will their love be enough to bridge their two worlds?

Secrets become confessions and trust is tested as betrayal threatens their lives. When a merman falls in love with a surfer chic and two worlds collide, expect an Impact Zone of danger and passion.

*contains explicit sexual content and some violence*

Let the adventure begin--start reading today! 

Friday, February 19, 2016

Savoring Sensations of Saltwater, Sunshine, Sea Air and Sensuality #Romance

Excerpt of the incredibly sexy and heart-pounding romantic suspense novel, Duplicity...Ready to head to Grand Cayman for the adventure of your life? Let's go. 


Adult content...


 Lexi felt like she danced on the edge of insanity. She'd gone to bed in her king-sized bed last night confident in her secure little world of privilege and prestige. Now she stood on the bow of a yacht looking at the distant lights of Grand Cayman blinking against the blackness of the night sea. Red lights glittered here and there along the waves indicating dangerous reefs. 

She gulped down another shot of whiskey, forgoing the offered soda. She craved the bite in the back of her throat. 

Auction. The word tormented her. She needed to stop it, but how? Maybe it wasn't even possible. Owen had dinner with Cayman government officials every time they were on the island. Just a few nights ago she'd enjoyed wine and candlelight at the wharf with them all, laughed with them, had made small talk with Luella over grilled shrimp and the weather. 

Had all of them known about Owen and Luella's true relationship status? Were they all living a double life? Had she been the only one completely clueless sitting at that table? 

"Don't jump." Larry's voice startled her from her musings. 

She twisted around to see him lounging on the bow looking too damn good for her current mood. "I bet you get laid a lot." 

He tilted his head back and laughed at the star filled sky. "Why do you say that? If you think that's part of the package—"

"Maybe I do think that." She ignored the shot glass this time and took a long drink directly from the bottle. 

His laughter faded. Face illuminated by moonlight, he resembled a pirate from long ago. Shoulder length dark blond hair—or brown that had been lightened by the sun, she couldn't quite tell—solid chest covered in tattoos, jeans that hung low on his hips, thick thighs that were solid muscle, high cheekbones, full mouth, and blue eyes that looked as if he'd seen his share of tragedy. Even with his smile and nonchalant air, his eyes betrayed him. 

"Why do you live here?" she asked, ignoring the slight slur of her words. 

"Gotta live somewhere." 

"Where are you originally from? Don't say Cayman—you don't have the accent." She waved the bottle at him in a warning. 

"Here and there and everywhere." He grinned as if he knew that answer would annoy her. 

"I'm kind of bitch," she admitted, sitting next to him and tilting her face toward the stars. "Typical mean girl."

He hesitated a minute, took the bottle from her, and drank a big gulp. "Not typical."

She pulled her legs to her chest and grinned. "Meaning?"

"Basic bitches don't usually admit their nastiness."

She laughed and shook her head at his observation. "As someone who gets laid a lot, I'm sure you're an expert about all sorts of bitches."

"I've met more than my fair share of lunatics, that's for sure." He shifted his position until he sat cross-legged, facing her side. "You're getting drunk. I don't want you throwing up on my boat so maybe it's time to go to bed."

"Really? Is that your best line? Come screw me so you don't puke?" She liked looking at him, wished she knew how to draw or sculpt or something like that because no photo would ever do him justice. He had that rugged appeal of a man—someone who probably knew all the right moves to make a woman melt. 

"I didn't say one word about getting laid or screwing." His eyes widened at her comment and he bit back a smile. "No line. I'm genuinely concerned about my boat. Who do you think would have to clean it up?"

"You think I'm uptight." She stabbed the center of his chest with a manicured fingernail. "You think I'd suck in bed, don't you?"

"I have honestly not given that any thought, not with you being on the run and all." His gaze dipped to her mouth, belying his words. He took another drink of the whiskey before offering her the bottle. "That's not an invitation for you to confess or something."

The world dipped and tilted a little. Maybe it was the undulation of the boat or the whiskey or the fresh sea air playing havoc with her equilibrium, but tension evaporated from her shoulders for the first time since she'd hidden in a closet hours ago. 

"Do you know no one would miss me if I disappeared?" she asked, leaning a bit too close to him. "Not one person."

"Don't say that," he whispered.

"Why? It's true and I'm a truth teller."

"Are you really?" His lips twitched.

"Not always, no." She pointed the neck of the bottle in his direction. "But I'm turning over a new leaf. One hundred percent honesty from now on."

"That's a little too honest."

Ripples of sadness moved her heart. She looked away from him and stared at the stars. When had she become so alone? When had life become about compromises and promotions? 

"You remind me of someone I used to know, someone who also thought she wouldn't be missed, and guess what? We all miss her."

"I bet she was nice." She took another sip of the whiskey. 

"Not really. She was pretty fucked up, actually, but...never mind. Another lifetime ago." He turned, faced the sea, and leaned back on his elbows. "None of that matters anymore."

She thought it must matter a lot for him to look so distant. "I'm from Dallas."

His lips twitched. "I figured."

"What does that mean?"

He lay flat on the deck with head tucked in his hands, and laughed up at the sky. "You've got an arrogance about you that screams Texan."

"Oh, really? Well, then let me ana-um-ana-analyze you." She tossed the now empty bottle aside and twisted to look at him. "You've got Californian written all over you. Am I right?"

He held up his tattooed arms and pretended to study his ink in the moonlight. 

She laughed and punched him in his side. "You're a smartass."

"Better than a dumbass I always say."

She hesitated, torn between emotion and logic. Whiskey warmed her from the inside out. "I've made a lot of questionable decisions today."

She crawled over him and kissed him, never one to shy away from what she wanted even in the face of a life-threatening situation. She wanted—no, needed—to forget it all for awhile. 

She wanted to feel, not think. 

"Careful, Lex," he muttered against her mouth, not making a move to touch her. "You can't undo this."

"I bet you're wild." She sucked on his bottom lip, looking him in the eye through the shadows. 

"Slumming are you?" He quirked an eyebrow, his breath hot on her skin.

"Make me forget." She licked her tongue over his lips and pressed her hips against his. 

"That's the whiskey talking."

"Who the hell cares?"

"I do." He grabbed the back of her head, fisting his hands in her hair and held her face a whisper away from his. "Do you really want to know how wild I can be? I'm not the kind of guy who holds back."

"Show me." 

He ground his mouth against hers in a kiss designed to scare her with its force. 

It didn't. 

Rather, it intensified the desire burning in her gut. 

Tongues slipped over one another. Breath meshed. Lips smashed. Hips ground together through their clothing. 

He rolled her over onto her back. Her skull ached from where he pulled her hair. His eyes glittered in the moonlight. 

"I'm not one of the nice guys who play fair," he warned. 

"Who said I liked nice guys?" She reached for the snap of his jeans and pulled it open. "And why in the hell do you think I play fair?"

He smiled, reached for the neckline of her shirt, ripped it down the center, and tossed the pieces of fabric aside. Without hesitating, he dipped his head and nibbled her neck while his hands claimed her bare breasts. 

She arched upward, craving skin-on-skin, needing the feel of his hard body pressing into hers. The sea breeze kissed her nude torso, the coolness contrasting sharply with the heat of his mouth on her flesh. 

She mimicked him by reaching up to the neckline of his already torn t-shirt and ripping it off of him. Shreds of material blew away in the wind. Sinking her teeth into his shoulder, she moved her hands frantically over his wide back. The more she felt, the more she hungered for more of him, all of him. 

In a daze of whiskey and desire, she dropped the back of her head onto the cool surface of the boat as his mouth claimed her breast. Eyes open, she stared at the stars and sighed when he dipped a hand inside her shorts. 

"We should go to the bedroom," he muttered against her mouth. "We might fall overboard."

"I can swim." She smiled against his mouth. 

He grinned before pulling them both to standing in one move. "Condoms are below deck, baby, and I don't want you showing up in a few months with an unexpected announcement."

He crushed his mouth to hers, not giving her a chance to respond, lifted her off of her feet and carried her. His tongue made her forget the where or the why—made her forget her name. 

Together they tumbled onto the bed in the master suite, hands frantically stripping each other of their remaining clothes until nothing separated them. He muttered words she couldn't understand in the haze of passion, and she honestly couldn't care less. Lost in sensation, she slid her feet along the back of his legs and practically begged him to fuck her. 

And he did. Hard. 

He gripped the headboard while she gripped his ass. Eyes locked on one another while their hips moved together in sync. His shaggy hair fell across his face, stuck in the sweat on his cheekbones. She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, caught up in the feel of him filling her while staring into her eyes. 

The orgasm ripped through her like an earthquake tearing her apart from the inside. She squeezed her eyes closed and moaned. 

He gathered her tight against his chest, ground his mouth against hers, and shuddered on top of her with the power of his own release. 

They lay entwined, sweat glistening between their joined bodies, mouths sliding lazily against each other. 

Larry pushed the hair from her eyes and rose up to look her in the eye. He rubbed his thumb over her cheek and grinned. That distant sadness she'd recognized earlier had returned to his blue eyes. 

"Get some sleep," he said before slipping from her. 

She propped herself onto her elbows and watched him walk naked from the room and close the door without looking back. 

Body still vibrating from the rocking orgasm, she blinked at the closed door and wondered exactly how much trouble she'd gotten herself into in one day.

* * *

Larry stood naked on the stern and guzzled a bottle of water. His mystery woman had stirred up unwanted memories and unwelcomed need. He didn't like the buzz zipping through his veins. 

He dove into the water and swam a few laps around his boat. The warm Caribbean enveloped him like a loving mother and soothed the constant ache in his heart. He swam until his limbs protested with their exhaustion. Treading water behind the dingy, he saw Lexi standing on the boat, wrapped in a sheet, and staring at him through the darkness. Silhouetted by the glow of the light from the interior, her hair looked as if a red halo had woven itself around her head. The wind tossed the sheet around her legs. 

She unsettled him. He avoided women who threw him off balance—women with an unseen power to rattle him down to his bones.

He swam slowly toward the boat, but by the time he'd pulled himself onto the deck, she'd returned to her cabin. He pushed his hair from his face and stared at the lights of Grand Cayman in the distance.

Despite himself, he wanted to know her story. What or who chased her? And why? Who had beat up Spike? If they had been hunting for information on Lexi's whereabouts, had Spike given her up—given them both up? 

He squeezed his eyes shut and remembered all the reasons he needed to stay emotionally disconnected. 

But she reminded him so much of someone he'd tried very hard to forget over the years. Hell, he'd even changed his last name so he would never be connected to that tragedy again. Muttering to himself about life being one strange fucking joke, he closed up the boat for the night before finding himself in his bed, staring at the ceiling, and listening to the water slosh against the hull. 

Alone. Just like he preferred it. 
 
Tap-tap-tap came a hesitant knock on his door.  

He sighed and tossed his arm across his eyes. "Sleeping!"

She opened the door and walked in anyway. Still wrapped in a sheet, she propped her hip against the bottom of his bed. She smelled like soap and toothpaste. Her long wet hair twisted over her bare shoulders. 

He stared at her from beneath his arm. "What?"

"What if I made a mistake? What if I misunderstood everything and have created a horrible mess?" she asked quietly through the dark. 

He knew instinctively that she wasn't talking about them and breathed a sigh of relief. "Want to go back?"

"No. I mean, I'm not sure." She grabbed his foot. "I know you don't have any idea who I am beyond my name, but I'm not the kind of person who has self-doubt. I'm not used to not knowing what to do—or running away from a fight. It's just that what I saw this morning is so—horrible—and the man involved has been an impeccable citizen—"

"Stop right there." He surrendered and sat up. "Do you have any idea how tired I am?" He grinned through the dark. "If you're never one to have self-doubt, then why are you questioning yourself now? What's your instinct say?"

"Run." 

He absorbed that and hated that he wanted to ask for every detail of what she'd witnessed that had caused an obviously educated, high-class woman to leave without packing any clothes. 

"He left me several messages. I listened to them while you were swimming. He says it's not what I think and that Luella was out of line..."

Her voice hitched on that last part and she allowed the words to fade. 

"Alexandra Nicole Dubois," he drew out her name with a smile, "I sincerely doubt that you're wrong about whatever it is you're thinking. You strike me as a smart woman who knows what she's doing."

"I know, I know. I'm breaking the rules." She released his foot and stood, adjusting the sheet as she stood. "You're not my confidante. Thanks for listening anyway. Get some sleep, Captain, My Captain." 

He smiled despite himself and remained silent as she exited the room with a loud rustling noise. Maybe tomorrow he'd ask more questions...or maybe not. He didn't know what he wanted to do yet and wasn't the kind of guy who liked to plan out every second of his life. Collapsing back onto his pillow, he laughed at the memory of her ripping his favorite t-shirt to shreds. 

He wanted more of that. Definitely. If that meant becoming her confidante...well...he'd been in worse situations and survived.

From the back cover...

Nothing bad happens in paradise...or does it?


Lexi Dubois is in trouble. On Grand Cayman for business, she discovers the company she's been working for is funding a human trafficking ring—and the money trail leads back to her. Scared for her life, she charters a boat for a week to hide from the men on the small island who want her dead and to buy time to find enough evidence to take them down. The last thing she expects—or wants—is a torrid affair with the hot captain and dive master.

Larry Gibbon has been running a charter dive boat operation in Grand Cayman for years. He's seen it all—and done his share of creating havoc. But when a mysterious woman charters his boat for a week—alone—he has no idea what trouble she's bringing aboard.

The ocean is vast and unforgiving, but will Larry's knowledge of the Cayman Islands and Lexi's relentless determination to survive be enough to save them?

**The Wanderlust Series consists of stand-alone adventure romance novels. Occasionally, characters from previous novels may make a cameo, but each story truly does stand on its own merits.

Let the adventure begin!