These five short tropical romances, spanning from 1901 to the present day, will put you in the mood for sunshine and love.
Romancing the Tropics
Volume 2
with stories by Leah Miles, Sara J. Walker, Vanessa Victoria Kilmer, Erika Kilmer Freidly, L.J. Green
Genre: Sweet Romance Anthology
These five short tropical romances, spanning from 1901 to the present day, will put you in the mood for sunshine and love. This collection offers sweet to edgy stories perfect for lazing on the beach or poolside.
Join these couples as they defy the conventions and expectations of their worlds to embrace love’s fullest connection with their happily ever after waiting to be discovered.
Here’s what's inside:
Not Another Jack by Leah Miles
Her final wedding gig takes an unexpected turn when a hunky Navy SEAL crashes the party, reigniting old flames and stirring new misunderstandings amidst the choppy seas of love.
The Gardener’s Secret by Sara J. Walker
In the tranquil beauty of the Keys, love and deception collide. Will their journey lead to healing or heartbreak?
Catch As Catch Can by Vanessa Victoria Kilmer
A private investigator is out to find an online hacker of billions of dollars. Will she catch the thief or find someone even more valuable on Grand Cayman Island?
R&R, and a Rescue by Erika Kilmer Freidly
A couple of soulmates travel to St. Thomas for a much-needed vacation. They get caught up in the theft of Blackbeard’s coin.
Where Trade Winds Meet by L.J. Green
This story captures the blossoming connection between William and Muriel as they bond over their shared dreams of exploration and adventure, defying societal expectations and forging a deep, resolute bond in the vibrant setting of Key West, Florida in 1910.
Proceeds benefit the First Coast Romance Writers, an independent non-profit organization that helps writers hone their craft and expand their knowledge of the publishing industry.
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CATCH AS CATCH CAN
He pushed his hands into his pockets to prevent reaching out as Rachel stepped off the elevator.
She smoothed her hair over her head, tightening her ponytail. The bright red pants with a matching mini tank covered in a white net top and white ‘sneaks’ had her looking ten years younger and ready for adventure.
When she saw him, her smile lit up her face. Her eyes were the same color as the water in the Caribbean.
He watched her cross the lobby, careful not to be too obvious about scrutinizing her movements and mannerisms. He had spent many hours last night looking into her background. She did hide in plain sight. Her business had a website. She had a couple of personal social media pages where nothing personal was posted. Her background trailed back ten years. Before that, Rachel Laban did not exist, all of which supported his hunch.
She stepped up to him, planting her feet together in a stance of semi-attention. He felt the urge to shake her, to get her to admit to her true identity.
Not yet. I must be sure.
“No purse or bag?”
“I’m a woman. All my clothes have pockets.” She demonstrated by pulling her phone from a back pocket and waving it at him. “Ready to visit Hell.”
“You seem very eager to get there.” He bowed her towards the doors.
“Been there before. This will be like going home.” She laughed.
“You’ve been to Grand Cayman before?”
“No. But I’ve been to Hell and back again several times.”
He closed the passenger car door after she got in. “That sounds like an interesting story.”
He sat behind the wheel, pulled his long, loose hair over his shoulder, and put the key in the ignition.
“You must spend hours each day brushing the tangles from your hair after driving this car with the top down.” She turned in the seat to face him.
“I only drive this car on special occasions, like my days off.” He pulled onto West Bay Road.
“And those are very rare.”
He nodded. “I haven’t cut my hair since I was a teenager. Growing up, my guardians forced me to shave my head. When I became responsible for myself, I promised never to do it again.”
“Looks like you’ve kept that promise.”
“I have. I keep all my promises.”
I promised to love you forever.
He maneuvered the car into a parking space before the Devil’s Hangout.
A man in a red body suit, with black horns on his head and a spiked tail, bounded up to them, waving a plastic pitchfork.
“How the hell are you?” He laughed, the prongs missing Joshua’s cheek by a hair.
“This is Ivan, the imp in charge.”
“You made a joke, Detective,” said the boisterous septuagenarian. “Did you sell your soul to me for some charm to impress the lovely lady?”
“Be gone with you, tempter. Let me show the lady around without your antics.”
Rachel swiveled her head as if watching a tennis match, eyes wide.
His unmistakable baritone carried over the crowd, and a bolt of panic had her jerking toward the rail. When she pivoted a bit too sharply against the one place with a short rope instead of a wood bar, she wobbled on her heels, and the world tilted in a sickening lurch. The horizon flipped, stars swirled, and a scream—her scream—shattered the festive air as she toppled over the side of the three-tier boat into the warm Caribbean Sea.
Saltwater stung her eyes, and her lacy top puffed around her neck as she treaded water. Above her, the yacht’s lights twinkled mockingly, and her friends hung over the top deck rail, offering suggestions and commiserations.
Splash.
Jack surfaced beside her, hooking an arm around her waist. “Are you alright?”
“Catch!” Ty tossed them a bright orange doughnut float.
Splash.
“Jack?” She choked as a wave washed over her face. “Why’d you jump in?” She asked, but she knew the answer. He was here because that’s who Jack Tanner was—protector, rescuer, a man who jumped into the unknown for other people. Of course, the yacht was anchored to the dock, but it was the thought.
***
“Grab on.” Jack pushed the orange float toward her while scanning the water.
“Seriously? I can swim to the dock.” She clung to the float, anyway. “This is crazy. You shouldn’t have jumped in.”
He agreed the situation was crazy. “I saw a shark,” he said tersely, his gaze fixed on what might be a dark fin about fifteen feet away.
“But we’re at the dock.” She enunciated her words as if he didn’t know.
“Yes,” he said with equal sarcasm, “people often throw leftovers and bait off the dock, which attract sharks.”
“Oh, my God. This can’t be happening.” She splashed awkwardly while hoisting herself into the float.
“Less splashing would be good.”
“I was trying to—” He boosted her so her butt was in the center and her knees hooked over one end. “How can you see in the dark, anyway?”
“It’s not that dark, and the water is clear.”
“Rose! Let him on the float!” someone shouted from above.
Another female voice said, “Where’s my cellphone? Rose is going to let Jack drown. We need this on Facebook. It’s Rose and Jack!” Gales of mirth followed from the crowd.
Marcus bellowed, “Don’t let her do it, Jack. Find a space on the raft.”
All his so-called friends hooted with laughter.
The fin seemed to have disappeared, but it was time to exit the water.
“Do you hear them?” Rose pursed her shiny red lips.
“Yeah, I do.” He’d like to kiss those lips and give their friends a proper show. “They’re talking about Titanic, right? Didn’t Jack and Rose kiss before she let him drown?”
“You’re not that Jack,” she said.
“Save him, Rose!” Rachel singsonged from above.
She cupped her hand on her mouth and yelled back. “You people are nuts!” Quieter she addressed Jack. “Were you serious about sharks? I mean, shark attacks are rare, right?”
“They’ll most likely leave us alone, but let’s get out of the water.” His hands gripped the float’s edge. “You’re safe.”
Her voice was shrill when she said, “This is so you. Jump in to save someone without caring about what could happen to you.”
Did she care? It was his fault they hadn’t spoken in almost a year, but something made him wonder if he hadn’t burned all the bridges. He gave her his best lost-boy expression. “Was that a firm no to the kiss?”
She flicked water into his face in response.
R and R and A Rescue
“Hi, we have a reservation for Drake,” I say as I hand over my ID and credit card.
“Ah, yes, Mr. and Mrs. Drake. We have you in the best room available. It has a jacuzzi tub.” The receptionist hands back my cards with the room keys.
I start to correct the receptionist on our names.
Bash takes a key. “Thank you, sir, we look forward to enjoying our stay here.”
“Yes, thank you. I’m really excited to tour the grounds again,” I say to the receptionist.
“Oh, you’ve been here before and loved it so much you came back.”
“One day was not enough time on this island and I’m glad I was able to come back again with my husband.” I hear Bash choke at the word husband, and I smirk, knowing that got him. The receptionist looks at Bash, a little confused. Bash grabs the bags and starts ushering me away. When we are out of earshot, I can’t help but start cracking up.
My eyes tear up from laughing, “Are you okay, husband? Did you choke on your own spit?”
Bash sighs. “As much as I love you, you know how I feel about marriage. I don’t care that he got my last name wrong because my last name never meant anything to me, but I am not worth being your husband.”
I give him the look I always give him when he is putting himself down. “I have told you once, and I am going to tell you again, and I will continue to tell you until you start believing it. You are worth it.”
I can see the muscles working in his jaw as he tries to bite back an argument. I stare him down, waiting to see how this conversation will go because I am prepared to defend him even against himself. He finally relents and sighs again as he walks away to put the bags down.
I head to the balcony and open the French doors to stare out at Charlotte Amalie Harbor. I see all the sailboats and cruise ships bobbing in the harbor.
Bash comes out behind me and wraps his arms around me, placing his head on my shoulders. These are the moments I cherish the most when he feels comfortable being himself and isn’t always on high alert like someone is going to jump out and attack us.
“I love you, Bash.”
“I love you, Thea.”
The Garnder's Secret
Cort frowned, wondering if Lisa was attempting to pass him off on Angela.
“You look familiar to me. Have we met?” Angela asked.
“Nope. I’m new around here.” He glanced away and back. “Glad to have you at Isamerada Resort and that you and Lisa have become friends.”
“We’re going to get something cool to drink,” Lisa said. “I’ll see you later.”
“Five o’clock.” Cort grinned.
“What’s happening at five?” Angela asked.
“Cort and I are meeting for a drink.” Lisa bit her lip, glancing between him and Angela. “You should come, too.”
Angela pursed her lips. “Are you sure three won’t be a crowd? I don’t want to intrude.”
So don’t intrude. He waited for her to decline.
“It’s fine, isn’t it, Cort?” Lisa asked.
He sighed. What choice did he have? “If that’s what you want.”
Lisa nodded. “This way, we can learn about each other.”
“Great. I’ll see you ladies at five on the porch.” He waved and hurried back toward the gazebo.
He pulled out his phone as soon as they were out of sight. His friend Al Dobson answered on the first ring.
“Cort, where are you, man? I called your office three times this week, and they gave me the runaround. You also haven’t been answering your cell. What’s up?”
“Everything is fine.” He stood far enough away that Manuel couldn’t overhear. “I told you about that money issue we’ve been having. Well, I’m handling it personally.”
“Personally? Wait—what?” Al’s voice squeaked.
“Calm down. Nothing as dangerous as your private investigator work. I’m posing as a gardener at my Isamerada resort.”
His friend guffawed with laughter.
“Shut it. I’m not kidding.”
“This is just … I can’t believe this story. It’s the juiciest piece of gossip I’ve ever heard. Poker night is tomorrow. Who else knows?” Al asked.
“No one. And you can’t tell anyone.”
“That’s not right.”
It was his turn to chuckle at his friend’s disappointment. “I need a favor,” he said.
“I’m here for whatever you need. After you helped me get my P.I. business up and running, I’ll never be able to repay you.”
“I met a woman this week,” Cort said.
“While you’re undercover?” He whistled. “Does she know who you are?”
“Not a clue. She thinks I’m an overage junior gardener.”
“Well, that’s something.” Al snorted. “She likes you for your sparkling personality? Is she aware you’re a workaholic?”
“Hey, I have other attributes. My overpaid personal trainer keeps me in shape. Just ask him.”
“I’m only joking. You’re the picture of health, and she thinks you’re a sexy gardener.” He wheezed with laughter.
Where Trade Winds Meet
Evil Lurks
Jealousy seared through him like the midday sun as he watched William place a hand ever so lightly on Muriel's back, guiding her away from the bustle of the dock to a quieter spot between stacks of cargo. There, shielded from prying eyes, they shared a laugh that Albert could almost hear that felt like a punch to his gut. A rage began to simmer within him, fueled by visions of what could be happening in those hidden moments.
"Who does he think he is, she was promised to me?" Albert whispered to himself, his knuckles whitening around the railing.
The authors participating in this anthology are members of First Coast Romance Writers (FCRW), and proceeds from this anthology benefit their organization. FCRW is a non-profit that welcomes both published and unpublished authors, as well as any individuals involved in writing and publishing. The chapter is dedicated to promoting excellence in romantic fiction through monthly meetings and workshops in a comfortable forum. They strive to help writers establish careers by providing innovative programs, networking opportunities and pertinent information on effective marketing techniques. Learn more about FCRW online at https://www.firstcoastromancewriters.com
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ReplyDeleteI like the cover for this anthology. Looks great. Sounds like something I would enjoy reading.
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