What do pirates, princes, Puritans, and propaganda have in common? Lacey Delahaye, forager and jelly maker, finds out in this romantic suspense set in the western Caribbean.
Paraiso, the island in Whirlwind Romance, is based on a real island in the western Caribbean that I discovered—how else?—mucking around on the internet. Called Providencia, it forms an archipelago with two other islands, San Andres and Santa Catalina, and five uninhabited atolls. Currently under the Colombian flag, it has been the ruled by an incredible variety of groups, from Henry Morgan the notorious buccaneer, to Spanish Conquistadors, Dutch traders, even English Puritans. Now part of the UN’s Seaflower Biosphere, it sports the third largest coral reef in the world. To reach it isn’t easy, which is why it’s not well known in tourist circles.
Its rich and odd history made it an intriguing backdrop for my story, but please be aware that most of the cultural and geographic description of Paraiso in Whirlwind Romance, not to mention the characters, is purely fictional.
Secret Cravings Publishing, 9/2/2014
89,000 words; M/F; 3 flames; Adventure/Romance
In the aftermath of a hurricane, Lacey Delahaye finds herself marooned on an island off the Florida coast with a mysterious man. Before he can confess his identity, they are kidnapped and taken to a tiny island in the western Caribbean. In a story laced with adventure and romance, Lacey encounters pirates, power-mad ideologues, and palace intrigue, not to mention the advances of three men, only one of whom she loves.
Excerpt (R) : First Mating
She looked at the water and then up at the sky, now pitch black. Heavy rain clouds obscured the stars. I sure as hell don’t want my last pair of shorts to get wet with no way to dry them. She shimmied off her shorts and pulled her tee shirt over her head and tossed them under the kayak. As if on cue, the moon broke through and bounced off the water, illuminating both the yard and Lacey’s body, clad only in panties. She heard a gasp, and hastily sank under the water. Poor guy, I shouldn’t have subjected him to a nearly forty-year-old physique. She held out her arms. “Sorry about exposing myself, but we’ve no electricity and I don’t want my one clean shirt to get soaked. Now come on. I’ll hold you.”
He raised his eyes from her breasts and nodded. With the moonlight full upon him, she saw that he sported a rough, dark beard and shaggy hair. Homeless? Or grooming for a movie role? He was younger than she’d thought at first. His dark eyes glittered in the pale light.
“If you’re ready…” He slid down the ramp into her waiting arms. She bent down and pulled the torn jeans off, then unbuttoned the remnants of his shirt. He clung to her, his body trembling. She tried to ignore the stench rising from him, but as she worked, somewhere down below her bellybutton parts of her kindled and something that wasn’t bay water oozed out of her. It had been five years after all—five, long, desolate years since she’d been with a man. She’d accepted the possibility that she might never have sex again. Haven’t thought about it in weeks. Now the steady throbbing of a hard penis on her thigh unexpectedly liberated buried desire and she butted against him.
He fell over in the water and came up spluttering. “What did you do that for?”
Good question. Hand to mouth, Lacey backed away. Her foot landed on a crab, which did not take kindly to the assault and chomped down hard on her instep. Yowling, she lunged forward, landing in the stranger’s arms again. This time he took advantage and crushed her to him. One hand pulled down her panties. She didn’t argue, but spread her thighs so his cock could slide into her vagina. The water and mud made entering her all the easier, and they clung to each other, swaying back and forth. He must have found a purchase on the ramp for his thrusts grew stronger. Lacey reveled in the power of the man. She loved that he took control, that she could simply acquiesce and enjoy. The orgasm floated up from the depths and roared out of her mouth. “I’m coming! I’m coming!” He redoubled his pistoning and as she began to shudder, he gave one last shove and sighed. She felt warm liquid mix with the cold bay water in her vagina. The man didn’t speak, but, keeping his penis inside her, bent to kiss her lips.
Lacey let the water ripple around her, washing off the mud and the smell. After a minute, the man released her and ducked under the water. He came up shaking his head. A passing cloud veiled the moon and all she could make out were two brilliant eyes, streaks of starlight flashing in them. He whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
The words smacked into her like her father’s belt did that day he caught her smoking in the alley. Oh. My. God. What have I done? How wanton could I be? And how stupid? This guy could be a rapist, an escaped convict—or worse, married! Here she was, acting like some Hollywood harlot screwing in an airplane lavatory. Yeah, it felt wonderful. But…oh, dear. What to say? “Never mind?” How about, “I do this with all shipwrecked sailors?” “Do it to me one more time?” Instead, she slogged up the bank and turned. “You coming?”
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About the Author
Although she has lived or traveled in every continent except Antarctica and Australia (bucket list), M. S. Spencer has spent the last thirty years mostly in Washington, D.C. as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, kayaker, policy wonk, non-profit director and parent. She has two fabulous grown children, and currently divides her time between the Gulf coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.
Ms. Spencer has published nine romance novels. The first two, Lost in His Arms and Lost and Found, were published by Red Rose Publishing. The other six—Losers Keepers, Triptych, Artful Dodging: The Torpedo Factory Murders, Mai Tais and Mayhem: Murder at Mote Marine (a Sarasota Romance, Lapses of Memory, and the Mason’s Mark —were published by Secret Cravings. Whirlwind Romance, her ninth, was released September 2014.
Check out my board at Pinterest for photographs of Providencia and jelly making–