This has been a passion project for the incomparable Brian K. Morris and me, over three years in the making! My imprint, “What If…Publishing,” which I originally crafted for my new adult/more mature content, and I was so grateful to find two new, aspiring authors (who were fans of our works too) to take under my and Mr. Morris’ wings with their adult historical-romance fiction idea. And now…the first book is about to be released! ^_^
This book is ADULT FICTION (18+) as a note!
Kendal Callaway and Kevina Drake; we are so immensely proud of your story being shared with the world!
Check out a sample HERE BELOW:
**********************
Chapter 32: Daimol:
“Oh, sh**…” I grunt through my teeth.
I swivel to stare at Miss Caitlin. “Please keep Miss Silke here until I return.”
I hand her the boxes, practically tossing them at the poor girl. “Seems like it was a dog…” Miss Caitlin states her observation.
It takes all my strength not to groan. I start to throw open the door when a quiet, frantic utterance pierces through me:
“Cap…Cap…tain?’”
I halt, wincing, my head pounding from the two directions I am being pulled. I stare apologetically at my Goddess, then say with some urgency to Caitlin, “It wasn’t just a dog. Please watch Silke until I get back!”
Then I take off.
Time stretches against my searching, aggravating my impatience. I take a hard left on the opposite side of the docks where my ship is anchored. That’s when I see two familiar frames in our standard bending down to pick up something that is squirming. I catch up to the chaos, seeing my two youngest crew members. I huff from sprinting through town in my fine garments, my lungs burning, steam crackling through my sharp tone toward my junior sailors who have their backs turned.
“MEN! What are you doing?!”
These blunderbusses both leap up, shivers visibly going through their spines when they turn slowly to my voice. Nathaniel has a splatter of dark mud on one spot on his shirt, trying to hide a smear on his cheek. Randel, however, is covered in mud, his uniform barely recognizable. In his arms is a towel; he is gripping something wiggling, wrapped up from my sight. The boys look petrified, their eyes buggy to my satisfaction.
“Gentlemen…” I attempt to stay calm, feeling onlookers gawking behind, but I feel my eyebrow twitch. “What in the holy hell is going on here?” My words are clipped.
They both struggle to speak, but Randel starts, his voice quaking. “Sir, we, Nathaniel and I, were exploring the town when we saw this… movement in a… deep muddy dip by the water… and we found, well…” He has trouble keeping the bundle in his arms steady, trying to show me what was worth all this madness. What poppycock are they dealing with?
I look at the bundle with a glare as sharp as one of my precise daggers. “What is it and why were you chasing it?”
Nathaniel’s silky voice even sounds apprehensive, “It’s a puppy, Sir…Only a few months old it seems. Randel went down there to grab him with a towel we bought. But it jumped out of his arms, probably because he held it too long…”
Randel flushes and jerks his nob full of rusty-tinted hair to his taller crewmate, the swiftness making the hidden dog bark, “Excuse me, but who went down to the trench to get their clothes so messed up because someone else was afraid ladies were nearby?”
Nathaniel squares his jaw tightly, “At least I can hold things better than you. You couldn’t even get a second of a lady’s attention if you tried all day.”
Randel opens his mouth again, his face hot. And I lose all composure.
“Be quiet!” My outcry echoes across the waves, making the boys nail their mouths tight.
**********************
YOU CAN READ ANOTHER SAMPLE ON MY WEBSITE HERE:
**********************
