Here is the cover reveal for my new YA Paranormal Romance: Bluewicked (A Watermagic Novella). It is book # 3!
Here's the synopsis:
Laurent and Sabine are matched to be together forever, but Laurent discards her like trash. It doesn't matter that she is one of the most beautiful, seductive creatures that ever walked on land or swam the depths of the sea. He won’t have her. But Sabine can’t accept that. She will kill any girl who falls in love with him.
That is until she meets Scratch Morrison. She just can’t figure that gangster out. He seems to be a deadly killer like her and she is set on unraveling the mysteries to his gang, the Boys of Mutiny. She soon suspects that he is not what he seems. Certainly he’s not just the bad boy player he appears to be. He has secrets and she will unravel them. And she just might fall crazy in love while it’s happening. Or will she?
Here is the Preface of Bluewicked:
My three sisters, mother, and I lounged on the huge black rocks enjoying the full moon overhead and the gentle rain on our naked jeweled bodies while we gazed out at the dark Atlantic. Our long hair draped alluringly over our breasts. In my mind, I could hear my two brothers and father laughing and joking around with each other as they swam down below the rocks.
“There’s the yacht,” Emily said, pointing. Her tropical blue eyes twinkled in the night. I could tell she was excited.
Upon seeing the boat, I felt a surge of adrenaline from my entire family at once. What a rush! We were ready.
Even though I wasn’t born into this American group nor was I even raised in the same country, our minds were interconnected. I experienced the pain in Savannah’s mouth as she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek like it was my own. I felt Logan’s long brown hair tangle in some sea grass at the bottom of the ocean as his head jerked up in response to the intensity of the moment. Together, our hearts beat fast—the pounding rhythms overlapped hard in my chest.
At once, our heads fell back involuntarily. Our backs arched as our bodies quivered. The girls and I lifted our faces and began to sing. Our song was like that of the angels, clear and perfect—penetrating. We sang of legends, celebrations, beauty…
Through the drizzle, the sounds carried out toward the teenagers on the yacht. They were a group of four, two guys and their girlfriends. In their drunken stupidity, they had stolen a yacht that was docked at one of the islands in Key West. They were just out partying and wanted to have some fun. But now, they listened to our song.
“You hear that?” one guy asked his girlfriend. With my attention on him, I read his mind. I could feel his thoughts reeling. He loved our melody. He was an easy catch.
As the enchantment took effect, his feelings became amorous. Now he turned the helm in our direction. I felt the texture of the wheel on his hands as the rain poured down on him.
I didn’t know what he looked like yet, but his girlfriend was fixated on a pimple on his cheek. I felt how much it bothered her. She wanted to pop it. “I don’t hear anything.” I sensed that she mumbled the words, but I wasn’t sure. The rain upset her too.
“Oh, I hear it,” the girl said suddenly. Now she felt lightheaded. And then the sensations grew. Such pleasure. She longed for the promises we alluded to—a life of infinite delight, romance, and adventure. Her heart rate sped up. I could feel the blood rushing through her veins.
Her boyfriend brushed her hair out of her face with his fingers, caressed her cheek, and then took her into his arms. They began kissing heatedly.
First thunder sounded and then lightning struck in the air like a loud explosion. My attention switched to the other couple as I sang. From what I sensed, they were in the living room on the couch. I felt skin against skin. Sweat. It seemed as if this couple was making out too. We expected that. There was a lot of passion and heavy breathing. Oh, the breathing was fervent. The tastes. We had them.
Minutes passed. They were entirely under our power, immersed in the song. The yacht was approaching fast, moving in the direction of our music now. Our voices grew louder and more intense. The rhythms were hypnotic. We bellowed out in heavenly symphony.
I felt the anticipation growing inside me. The teenagers were so close that I could see the silhouettes of the four figures standing on the deck now. They were coming for us. I felt their eyes focused on our wet, jeweled bodies as we lounged on the rocks. They saw us under the moonlight. I was certain of that. The boys were desirous and the girls were fixated on our beauty.
Our heads rolled side to side now and our hands slid down our chests as we sang. “Dive into the black waters.” Our voices were liquid and intoxicating, evoking rapturous thoughts. “Fantasies await.”
Without hesitation, the four kids climbed up onto the side rail of the yacht. My eyes honed in on them—their cheeks were flushed, their eyes glassy. One after the other, they dove into the ocean.
Still on course, the boat progressed forward rapidly toward the rocks where we lounged. I was so eager that my singing became shaky. I wanted the kids now. We all did.
The yacht was coming right at us. I loved the danger, the thrill. My sisters, mother, and I stood at the edge of the rocks, wet wind blowing in our faces, our long hair dripping in the rain.
The engine of the boat hummed, mixing with our high pitch. And right as the boat crashed into the rocks, we dove to the side into the sea. We heard loud tearing of metal and shattering of glass from the now capsized yacht as we swam.
There was no stopping our strong, lithe physiques. My body felt so alive in the water. Tingling sensations rushed through me, through us. My brothers and father swam up to join in. Our faces stretched into form, teeth elongating with razor sharp edges. The sensations of the transformation felt like ecstasy. Our eyes paled in color to a milky blue.
First Logan tore off one of the girl’s arms. Her eyes were so wide and horrified. We felt her pain and loved it.
Oh, how the blood spread out in the water. Prickly sensations of pleasure poked through our pours. We could smell the red liquid. Blood was an addiction, a need. It beckoned us to lose control.
At once, we went into a hedonistic frenzy like sharks tearing away flesh, devouring it entirely. Oh, so delicious. Heavenly. The taste of blood in the mouth is like a drug.
So that's the little teaser.