by Janni Nell
Island of Secrets
By Janni Nell
I’m a paranormal investigator without a home of my own. So when a wealthy client offers me a lucrative job on a private South Pacific island, I jump at the opportunity.
It’s not all fun in the sun, though. A dead merman—no, really—with an arrow in his chest has washed up on shore. My investigation reveals a century-old war between the mers and a goblin tribe, who believe the mers stole their treasure. But the real thief was a pirate! He buried the treasure and died before digging it up again.
Casper, my guardian angel and sort-of-but-not-really boyfriend, usually helps me out but he’s acting all weird and busy. The only person left who can help me find the treasure is the pirate’s former girlfriend, who happens to be a forgetful, alcoholic ghost.
Oh, and I’m not the only one searching for this treasure. Someone else wants it badly and they’re prepared to commit murder to prevent anyone else from getting it…
57,000 words
Dear Reader,
Inspiration comes from the strangest places. Every month, I whine a little when my coworker in charge of production, Jenny Bullough, emails to tell me it’s time to write a new Dear Reader letter. “But, but, I don’t know what to write about,” I say. This month, I added to my whine, “People have been telling me they actually READ these letters. Now there’s PRESSURE.” To which Jenny replied:
My usual offer still stands ;)
Dear Reader,
Angela is busy sunning herself on a beach somewhere; we’ll return to our regularly scheduled dear reader letter in August. Meanwhile, enjoy this book!
~Jenny Bullough
Unfortunately, since I write these letters months in advance, while this particular letter is going in the July books, and you’re perhaps reading this during the summer, the truth is, right now I’m dealing with allergy season, and not beach season. Though I did get to visit a beach in Florida a few weeks ago during a conference. Ahhh, memories…
But I hope, for your sake, as you’re reading this, you are sunning yourself on some beach. With a tropical drink or frosty beer in hand. And a good-looking cabana person of your choice serving it. Oh, and no biting insects (our beach has biting insects and they hurt!).
Still, I thank Jenny for the offer, and the inspiration to help me start off this letter. I have to admire the dedication of our authors who, every month, use their inspiration and write such fantastic stories that make great companions on the beach, by the pool, or even in your favorite reading spot indoors. This month, we have another creative and diverse group of releases for your reading pleasure.
Kicking off the month is a sweeping historical romance from Laura Navarre. By Royal Command offers everything you’re looking for in a great historical read: rich historical details, sweeping passion, intrigue and, I don’t think I’m giving anything away by saying this, an amazing happy ending! Joining Laura in starting off our month of releases is debut author Kait Gamble with her fascinating science-fiction romance Liar’s Game. Meanwhile, KC Burn keeps readers in the detailed science-fiction universe of Spice ’n’ Solace with her follow-up super-hot-and-spicy erotic m/m novella Alien ’n’ Outlaw.
Longing for a particularly delicious erotic romance to turn up the heat inside, while it’s hot outside? We’ve got you covered this month. In addition to Alien ’n’ Outlaw, check out erotic romance offerings from Delphine Dryden and Karen Erickson with The Theory of Attraction and A Scandalous Affair, respectively. And we’re proud to announce debut erotic romance author Samantha Ann King with her ménage novel Sharing Hailey, and debut author Zaide Bishop with her erotic historical novella Eliza’s Awakening.
Meanwhile, Michelle Garren Flye offers a compelling and emotional contemporary romance, Where the Heart Lies.
Also this month, join Allegra Fairweather in another paranormal adventure in Island of Secrets by Janni Nell. And make sure you check out Jeffe Kennedy’s Rogue’s Pawn, which kicks off her new fantasy romance series!
Other returning Carina Press authors this month include Natasha Hoar with The Ravenous Dead, the next installment in her Lost Souls series; Dee J. Adams’s Dangerously Close, which continues the high-octane Adrenaline Highs series; Anne Marie Becker, bringing you another slightly creepy and very suspenseful romance in Avenging Angel; and Hunter Raines with the paranormal m/m romance Sight Unseen.
In addition to Samantha Ann King, Kait Gamble and Zaide Bishop, we’re proud to introduce another debut author, R.L. Naquin. If you enjoy your urban fantasy with a cheeky edge and a sense of humor, while offering the urban fantasy and romantic elements you love, make sure to check out Naquin’s debut novel, Monster in My Closet.
I hope you these July 2012 releases as much as we do. And that you really do have a cabana person to wait on you ;)
Remember, we love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to [email protected]. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
www.carinapress.com
www.twitter.com/carinapress
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Dedication
To my editor, Liz Bass, with many thanks for her encouragement and sense of humor.
Acknowledgements
Medical romance author Dr. Leonie Knight was kind enough to help with details about peanut allergies. Sadly, Leonie passed away in December 2011. A terrific author and a lovely woman gone too soon.
Thanks to my osteopaths, Melanie and Helena, for keeping me mobile. (A bad back during edits is not pretty.)
A big thank you to Angela James for leading Carina Press from strength to strength.
Thanks to copy editor Christy Phillips and all the people behind the scenes: Aideen, Carly, Brendan, Amy, Eleanor, Jenny and Tara.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
About the Author
Copyright
Chapter One
If something seems too good to be true, it probably is.
I should have remembered that when I accepted this case, but all I could think of was the free accommodation on a South Pacific island.
So there I was, snorkeling around a coral reef in warm tropical waters. A very pleasant change from the chilly Boston weather of my last case. Even the few days I’d spent in San Diego moving out of my apartment hadn’t completely thawed me out. But this tropical sunshine was doing the job.
In case you haven’t heard of Lu’arna Island, it’s small, beautiful and privately owned. It isn’t part of Tahiti, but you can day-trip to Papeete and be back before dark. When I arrived—by private helicopter no less—three things happened:
My client was unable to meet me because he was “saying good-bye” to his supermodel girlfriend;
The embarrassed housekeeper apologized and showed me to my guest cottage (magnificent, I’ll give you the details later);
I decided that, since my client was unavailable, I’d take a swim to the reef. I’d packed my snorkeling gear for just this opportunity.
The reef was amazing. Okay, it was a little farther from shore than I’d have liked, but I’m a strong swimmer. I could make it back without any trouble. When I got tired of looking at coral, I pushed up my face mask and enjoyed the view of cloudless sky and azure water. I was taking it all in, minding my own business, when a fin pierced the water beyond the reef. My first thought was, Oh great, a dolphin. Yeah, I know I should’ve thought, Uh-oh, shark. But I’d just spent several days with my friend Wanda and apparently I’d caught some of her boundless optimism. Not that it took me long to realize it was a shark.
Still, it was on the other side of the reef. With luck it wouldn’t find a way through until I was safely on shore. I about-faced and kicked out for the beach. Pain shot through my toe. Had something bitten me? Not the shark—it was too far away. Perhaps a sea snake? Blue-ringed octopus? Sea slug having a bad day?
Clouds of blood billowed beneath the surface. Rolling onto my back, I struggled to float while lifting my foot out of the water to see how bad it was. A gash ran the length of my big toe. Uh-oh, coral cut. Double uh-oh—it would need stitches. Triple uh-oh—the shark, attracted by the scent of blood, had found a way through the reef.
Suddenly I was an extra in Jaws. I swam for my life. Like I could outswim a shark. Yeah, right. Any minute now razor-sharp teeth would tear me apart in a gluttonous frenzy. I swam fast, but the faster I swam, the more my heart pumped…and the more blood blossomed in the water. The shark closed in for the kill.
As it rushed at me, jaws wide, I ripped off my snorkel and goggles, and shoved them into its mouth. “Eat this.” The shark’s jaws crunched down and it dived, taking the snack with it. I knew the plastic wouldn’t satisfy it for long, but it might buy me some time.
As I stroked toward the distant shore, bits of plastic floated to the surface around me. I glanced over my shoulder, but I couldn’t see a fin. That seemed like good news until I felt the water swirling beneath me. Any minute now the shark would launch upward, grab my leg and pull me under.
A shadow passed overheard. I heard wings beating in a steady rhythm. Was it a bird? Was it a plane?
Nope. It was my guardian angel. And not a moment too soon.
Casper swooped down, locked his arms under my shoulders and began to pull me out of the ocean. As my torso and hips emerged, the water below roiled with big-shark activity.
“Hurry up,” I yelled.
My thighs emerged, then my calves and finally my feet. All in one piece. But the shark wasn’t done yet. It launched out of the water, snapping at me. I jerked my feet out of its reach just in time. It slid into the water, defeated. As it sank below the surface, blood dripped from my toe. The shark thrashed around, snapping at the blood, but I didn’t care. I was safe in Casper’s arms, which is my favorite place in all the world.
When I was six, Casper had pulled me from the path of a speeding car. Now he was pulling me from the jaws of sharks. He’s a good guardian angel, except that he’s hotter than he has any right to be. Golden hair, strong jaw, eyes the color of a sun-dappled forest. And then there’s his body, which is everything you’d expect in a Germanic warrior. He looks about thirty, which is pretty good for someone who’s been dead for two thousand years. By the way, Casper isn’t his real name. I called him that after the friendly ghost because he could appear and disappear at will.
He set me down gently on the beach and knelt to examine my right big toe—the one that itches when I’m in the presence of anything paranormal. Except Casper. Anyway, my toe wasn’t itching now. It was stinging like a bitch.
After retrieving my sarong from the sand, he wrapped it around my toe. “That needs stitching.” There was no doctor on Lu’arna Island, so we’d have to take a trip to Papeete. “Unless I stitch it for you,” offered Casper. “I’m quite capable. I’ve treated battlefield wounds.”
“In Roman times.” Call me unadventurous but I didn’t trust the medicine of the first century AD. “Thanks, but I’d rather go to Papeete. Quinn can take me in the helicopter.”
Casper wasn’t impressed that I had a helicopter at my disposal. Guess it isn’t that big a deal when you have your own built-in wings. But on this occasion Casper wasn’t thinking about flying. “My yacht will get there faster.”
“Since when do you have a yacht?”
“The Angel Awards. Remember? It’s my consolation prize.”
A few weeks ago he’d been the favorite to win the Sir Galahad Award for Honorable Treatment of Women, which would’ve given him a free pass to Heaven. Since that would’ve meant he was no longer my guardian angel, I was kind of glad he hadn’t won. Although he deserved the award more than Caligula, who’d got the sympathy vote because his mortal subject was bratty pop star.
“So,” I said, “lucky you happened to be in the neighborhood when I got in trouble with the shark.”
“Actually, I was in Hawaii. I flew to your rescue and the yacht followed me.”
“Like a well-trained dog.”
“Uh-huh. See how it stays without being anchored?” He pointed to the vessel, which bobbed on the water beyond the reef. Now that was a yacht. We’re talking state-of-the-art, tri-deck, and this thing was long, baby. Funny, I hadn’t seen it when I’d swum to the reef. Guess I hadn’t been paying attention.
“Must be nice inside.” I held the sarong against my toe, stemming the flow of blood.
“I’ll show you around sometime,” he offered. “I have full use of the yacht for a month.”
“Lucky you. Well, before I bleed to death, maybe we could get going to Papeete.” He lifted me in his arms and flew to the vessel. As we got closer I saw its name painted in black italics: Heavenly. He set me down on the gleaming deck and shrugged off his wings, which swirled around him in a cloud of golden feathers that disappeared before they hit the deck. I’d once asked him to explain the appearance and disappearance of his wings. He’d tried but I couldn’t understand the physics. His wings grew right through his clothing too, meaning I didn’t get a free peek at his pecs. Bummer.
There was no crew on Heavenly, but Casper explained he didn’t need one since the yacht would do whatever he wanted. He demonstrated by planting his legs apart like a captain on a rolling deck.
“Go to Papeete,” he commanded and clapped his hands three times. The yacht began to move. Interesting, because there was no wind, no sails and no sound of motors either.
“How does it work?” I asked, as he gently unwrapped the blood-soaked sarong from my injured toe.
“The physics are quite complicated,” he began.
“Are these the same physics that explain the appearance and disappearance of your wings?” When he nodded I said, “Right, I’ll just put it down to magic then.”
“Good choice. By the way, your toe is still bleeding.”
“Well, duh,” I said, as a puddle of blood formed on the deck. “You shouldn’t have unwrapped the sarong.”
“I’ll make you a proper bandage.” Straightening up, he commanded, “First aid kit,” and clapped his hands three times. When the kit appeared, I started to get excited about the possibilities of this magic yacht.
“Hey, if you asked for a million dollars…?”
“It would be granted,” he said, “but there’s a catch.”
“There always is.”
“The money would only exist onboard,” he went on. “If I tried to take it off, it would disappear.”
“So that would explain why you’re still wearing the kilt I bought you in Scotland.”
He nodded as though I was his star pupil. “I can clap for shorts and
a T-shirt to wear on the yacht, but once I get off they’ll disappear. So I change into the kilt when I have to go ashore.”
“Remind me to buy you some more appropriate clothes.” Angels don’t carry money so their morsubs—mortal subjects—buy clothes for them.
He poured antiseptic on my wound and I shrieked, “Holy crap, that stings.”
“Don’t be a baby.”
“Gee, thanks for the sympathy.”
As he began to bandage my toe, the puddle of blood on the deck magically disappeared.
“Is this a self-cleaning floor?” Now I was really excited. “That’s brilliant. Does it come in apartment-size? Oh wait, I no longer have an apartment.”
For years, I’d shared a place with my best friend, Wanda, but she’d moved to Massachusetts to begin an apprenticeship in witchcraft. I couldn’t afford to keep the apartment on my own and didn’t want to share with anyone else. I was currently homeless, which was one reason a stay on Lu’arna Island had been such an attractive prospect.
“The deck only comes in yacht size,” he said as he finished bandaging my toe. “How does that feel? Not too tight?”
“Nope,” I said, as the first aid kit closed itself and disappeared. “But I could use a painkiller. Preferably something alcoholic.” Without waiting for permission, I said, “Piña colada,” and clapped my hands three times. Nothing happened. “Hey, where’s my drink?”
“The magic only works for me,” he explained.
“Okay, so you order the drinks.”
“Best not to have anything until you’ve seen a doctor.”
He was right, but it was going to be a long trip to Papeete. “I thought you said this thing could go faster than a helicopter.”
“Your wish is my command.” Three more claps and the scenery started whizzing by.
When we passed a cruise liner, I asked, “Won’t they wonder why we’re moving so fast?”
“They might if they could see us, but Heavenly is invisible when it’s moving fast.” So that explained why I hadn’t seen it when I’d swum out to the reef.
