I'm happy to report that Santa heard my plea, and is sending me my very own Kindle! In fact, with a small assist from my DH (LOVE that man!) my lovely little ereader will arrive in a few days. I hope you have your very own ereader too, because my new release High Seas Deception (Can't get enough of that gorgeous cover!) will be available in electronic format. Of course, even if you don't have an ereader, you can still download the story and read it directly from your laptop or desk top.
Here's a little excerpt to whet your appetite:
From the balcony of the ninth story condominium, the Irishman drained his coffee cup and walked to the railing. Lifting a pair of small field glasses to his eyes, he focused on the boxy white ship gliding across the smooth waters of Banderas Bay. Through the early morning haze, he took a moment to distinguish the black, stylized ‘A’ on the vessel’s smokestack, but once he did, the tingle of anticipation zipped along his nerve endings. Adventure Cruise Lines Intrepid – his objective, was right on time. He saw the harbor master’s gleaming metallic cutter rushing out to meet the huge ship and guide her into the port. Slipping the field glasses into his pocket, he walked back inside to ready himself for his own meeting with Intrepid.
Forty minutes later, he slumped in the shade on a wrought-iron bench and sipped a bottle of water. Through his sunglasses, he watched the first passengers emerge through the gate in the chain link fence that separated the pier from the tiled plaza in front of the flea market a few meters to his left. A score of eager taxi drivers descended on the new arrivals, crying out in accented English. “I take you on a tour of the city…” “… to Mismaloya…” “… to the tequila factory…” “… good price!” “… cheapest price!” He’d seen the same scenario in every tourist port he’d ever landed in, though he had to admit that as tourist towns went, Puerto Vallarta was one of the prettiest. When the first hardy group negotiated their way past the gauntlet of aggressive drivers, he tossed his empty water bottle into the nearby trash bin and listened closely to their chatter. Their accents matched his intel which said most of the eighteen hundred passengers were from the US or Canada. He’d have no problem posing as one of them. As a second, larger group made their way toward the shops in the flea market, he looped his backpack over his shoulder and joined them. Ignoring the calls of the pushy vendors, he took less than five minutes to spot a likely mark. The man at the counter stood close to his own height, though huskier in build. His personal identification stuck out of the back pocket of his shorts when he pulled out his wallet to pay for a tube of sunscreen. This really is child’s play, the Irishman thought as he side-swiped the man’s shoulder. Then he murmured, “Lo siento mucho,” at the same time his unsuspecting benefactor said, “Excuse me.” The man scooped up his change, dropped the pesos in the bag with the sunscreen and hurried out the door, wallet still in hand. The Irishman followed at a safe distance just to be sure the American didn’t notice his missing ID card. The Irishman glanced briefly at the white and blue plastic sea pass card before he zipped itinto the inner pocket of his backpack. “Thank you, Robert Adams,” he murmured under his breath.