Hi ,
I’m excited to announce the release of Book Two, “Beneath His Hands,” in the Psychological Thriller and Romance Duology. If you were wondering what happens next, now is your chance to find out. For one more week, the price of $0.99 cents USD will remain in place, and then it will be going up to $2.99 USD.
I’m quite excited to announce, as well, that Book One, “Her Prison, His Game,” hit #1 in Psychological Thrillers on Amazon, and I want to say thank you to everyone who purchased or downloaded a copy. Your support has been amazing, and I couldn’t be more grateful to you all. I hope you enjoy Book Two.
Please don’t forget to leave a review. I would love to hear what you think of the duology. I’ve included an excerpt of Book Two below.
Blurb:
“Ethan Barrett loves his solitude, hence his boat the Em-Dash and the wide-open ocean. It is exactly what he needs to finish his script and celebrate his 30th birthday in peace.
His hopes are quickly dashed when two storms roll in. One with reddish blond hair, and the other which sends him overboard in an attempt to rescue the ninja lady from the worst storm he's ever experienced in his lifetime.
As his boat goes down and their hope for survival darkens, will he be able to gain the trust of the mystery woman full of secrets, and work together to survive? Or...
Will she be their downfall in an already merciless environment?”
Excerpt from Chapter One
Ethan Barrett stood there with his arms crossed, staring at her, as she walked down the dock towards his boat. She wasn’t the kind of person he wanted on board. Young and cute. She would be a distraction. But his long-time steward, Craig Peterson, was away on medical leave, and Ethan ended up having to call the temp agency his family often dealt with.
The last thing he wanted was a woman to fill in for his friend. He needed a testosterone-filled boat, not an estrogen-filled one. As he watched her, he couldn’t help but notice she walked with a slight limp. He was tempted to lift her long black skirt to find out the cause. His gaze traveled up the length of her body until their eyes locked. Flames swam in her hazel eyes, like a blazing inferno.
“Yes, I know. I walk with a limp,” Jenna McCay said, placing her hands on her hips. “Do you want to see the ugly reason why, so you don’t keep staring at me this whole trip?”
“Don’t you think that should wait until we’re in bed?”
Her hands rolled into tight fists, and before he could prepare himself, she shoved him off the dock and into the frigid waters below. His entire body stiffened as the water closed over him, knocking the wind out of him.
Breaching the surface, he gasped for air and swam back to the dock as quickly as his frozen body would let him. Hauling himself out of the water, he stood up. She turned to run, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her into a cold, wet hug.
“Welcome aboard,” he said, teeth chattering.
“Let me go, you big buffoon,” she said, giving him another shove.
He flailed backwards, almost toppling into the water again, but this time, he regained his balance. She may be small, but she definitely had some power behind those puny little arms.
“You’ll find I don’t enjoy being groped or touched, Mr. Barrett. If you try that again, I’ll knock you on your fine ass.”
“You think my ass is fine?”
Jenna shook her head. “Oh, God. This is the strangest interview I’ve ever had.”
“I can’t say I’ve ever been pushed into the water during one before,” he said, motioning for her to follow him. “Let’s go inside. Once I get changed, I’ll show you around.”
“You deserved it,” she quipped.
He left her in the saloon and headed to his stateroom. Somehow, he had a feeling she wouldn’t be a distraction at all. He’d be able to get his work done in peace and not have to worry about her hanging all over him.
His screenplay had to be completed within the next two months to meet his deadline. If it wasn’t ready, his agent, Jen, would smack him up the side of the head. She had already pitched his story to producers who were gung-ho to get it.
Peeling off the last layer of wet clothes, he shivered as the air hit his cool body. He hadn’t planned on going for a polar bear swim. They didn’t live in the tropics where the water was warm twelve months of the year. It was mid-May, and the weather wasn’t quite swimmer friendly.
When he returned to where he’d left her, she was staring at the Oscar trophy in his display cabinet, all wide-eyed.
She hooked a thumb towards his award. “So, you aren’t just some rich kid who mooched off his parents, huh?”
“Is that what you’re after? A rich kid?”
“I’m not after anybody, Mr. Barrett. I just have more respect for someone who works for a living.”
“Please call me Ethan. The recruitment agency said you have experience working on a boat?”
“Ask me anything.”
Approaching her, he ran his finger down her cheek. “That’s a dangerous request, Ms. McCay.”
In lightning-fast movements, Jenna knocked him flat on his back, knocking the wind out of his sails again. His head slightly grazed the edge of the glass coffee table as he went down.
“Hell, woman!” he said, propping himself up on his elbows. “Maybe I should hire you as my bodyguard instead.”
“Let me make one thing clear again, Mr. Barrett. I hate being touched.”
“Then why would you choose to work on a boat that puts you in close corridors with others?”
He stood up and moved a safe distance away from the cute, crazy, ninja lady. Having her around was going to make for an interesting few months. But at least she wouldn’t invade his personal space, like others before her.
Turning away from him, she stared at a picture of his sailboat on the wall and wrapped her arms around herself. “I have my reasons.”
There was a hint of pain in the tone of her voice, and it tugged at something inside him. He suspected that she was running from something. Why else would you hide out on the water? Heck, even he had to admit that it got him out of the clutches of his own family. There was always someone who wanted something, and he enjoyed being a loner.
Maybe that’s what drew him to writing. It was a solitary job, which suited him just fine, and he liked that he could do it from just about anywhere. All he needed was a computer and Microsoft Word.
When he’d saved up enough, he bought his pride and joy, “The Em-Dash,” a 114-foot catamaran. It cost a pretty penny but was worth every hard-earned cent. The peace and quiet allowed him to devote much of his time to his career.
“What do you think of my galley?” he asked.
Jenna ran her hand over the back of the couch, as she rolled her eyes. “Either you’re stupid or you think I am.” She’d worked on boats long enough to know it was the saloon, not the galley.
She did have to admit that this boat was more deluxe than others she’d been on before. Her apartment could probably fit into this one living space. There was a sectional teal couch that lined one side of the room, along with a glass coffee table that she had almost shattered with Ethan’s head earlier, and a huge fifty-inch television that sat mounted on the opposite wall. On the far side of the room, there was a mahogany bar, fully stocked with liquor bottles lining the wall behind it.
Every square inch of the room appeared to have some use. He even had a reading corner, which had a large built-in bookshelf and a comfortable teal lounger. A place she could imagine herself sitting during her breaks.
“On this floor, we have the outer deck, the saloon and my office. Above, we have the upper deck and the cockpit. Below, we have four staterooms, all of which have their own heads. And I can’t stress enough how I like things kept tidy.”
Jenna nodded her head and followed him down a set of stairs.
“There are two aft staterooms and two at the bow. In-between, you will find the galley and mess hall. Oh yes!” He snapped his fingers. “If you mess up Roger’s galley, he’ll be none too happy. So, if you want anything, ask him. He’s quite the stickler.”
“Aye, I heard that, boss,” yelled a voice from the galley.
Ethan grinned before continuing to walk down the hallway, stopping at a closed door. “This is your room, and the most important room on the boat.”
Pushing open the door, her eyes fell upon a washer and dryer. Next to the machines was a pantry where they stored the linens. Along the opposite wall were a few rows of shelves, housing various cleaning supplies.
“You’re a pig,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him.
“No. I’m a writer.”
He started walking again, taking her down another set of winding stairs. They entered a narrow corridor, only wide enough for one person at a time. “On this floor, we have the engine room and the crew corridors. There is a comfortable place for the crew to relax down here, but I’m not too stringent in that regard. I like my crew happy, so they have freedom to roam, just as long as they stay out of my way when I’m working.”
That was fine by Jenna. She didn’t go on trips like this to mingle anyway. Getting away from the world and her past was all she wanted to do. She hated the questions and the looks she got from people when she walked by. Everyone seemed to know her face. It hadn’t help that she’d been prominently in the news for weeks. Reporters and television shows kept calling her, even years later. All she wanted was to be left alone.
But no one cared that her horrific nightmare happened five years ago, and she didn’t want to keep being reminded of it. Her limp was memory enough. Jenna leaned down and rubbed an ache in her calf. Thankfully, her injury hadn’t stopped her from learning how to protect herself. No one would ever get the drop on her again.
And what better way to minimize the amount of people she came in contact with than to serve on a small vessel. She got a chance to see the world and get paid for it. Most of her trips were along the west coast of Canada and the States, but this time, they were going to travel to the Caribbean. She couldn’t wait to see the turquoise water.
“Will anyone be traveling with you?” she asked.
His eyes hardened, and his lips pressed together, forming a thin, tight line. “No. It’s just me and the crew.” Turning, he went back up the stairwell they had just came down.
She hurried after him. “How many crew members?”
“More people equals more noise, and I hate noise, so there will only be five of you. Roger-the cook, Jerry-the Captain, Mark-the Deckhand, Chris-the Engineer, and you. And you should know I’m pretty ticked off at having to bring someone new on board who doesn’t know my routines, let alone a woman.”
“Don’t make me push you into the water again.”
Spinning on his heels, he backed her up against the wall. “I don’t put up with dangerous antics on my ship either.”
Jenna kneed him in the crotch, making him double over. “And I don’t allow myself to be bullied into submission. If you can’t handle that, you can go without a stewardess.”
“Let me guess, no boyfriend, right?” he asked hoarsely, breathing through the pain as he held his crotch.
She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. Unable to stay aboard for another minute, she took off towards the saloon. “I’ll see you Monday.”
Jenna made it off the boat and halfway down the dock before she broke down, her body shaking uncontrollably. Taking a seat on the nearby bench, she leaned over and covered her face with her hands.
Men! They were all men. The temp agency hadn’t told her that. Would she be able to hold it together long enough to work with just guys on a daily basis? Most of her other jobs were a mixture of men and women, or just all women, which was her work preference.
That way she never had to worry about a guy taking advantage of—
Damn it.
She couldn’t even think about what happened without her mind freezing up. Yet, at the same time, it was all she thought about. God. She hated her head.
It was always there, like a dark storm assailing her mind. Therapists tried to help, but what good were they when they couldn’t change what happened? Those days were long gone, but the memories were like a never-ending movie. She wanted to forget her nineteenth birthday, but the scars and nightmares were a constant reminder of the events that followed.
Even learning martial arts didn’t take away the pain, although it did help her gain a bit of confidence again. And if she was going to face this crew, she would need every ounce of it, providing she didn’t go into hiding first.
Standing up, she walked over to the bus stop, shaking her head along the way. She was torn between feeling guilty for tossing him around and feeling elated that she managed to take him down three times in a row. Letting out a loud whoop whoop, she gained some attention from the people passing by.
Tucking her chin to her chest, she hid her heated face as she pulled out her phone, dialling her best friend’s number.
“Cleo, you’ll never guess what I just did. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
***
Once Ethan regained his equilibrium after Jenna hit him in the crotch, he rushed to the upper deck and looked around for the woman, but she was gone. Smacking his hand on the railing, he cursed into the afternoon air.
“You okay?” Jerry asked, walking out of the cockpit.
“What do you think? I’ve been knocked in the water, flipped, and kicked in the crotch,” he said, his groin giving him another twinge of displeasure.
“By that tiny wisp of a thing?”
Ethan glared at him. “Shut up.”
The captain threw his head back and laughed, his belly shaking. “It’s about time a woman got the better of you,” he said, patting Ethan on the back.
“Hey, you’re supposed to be on my side!”
“If she’s that feisty, she has my loyalty. I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.”
Growling, he shoved by the captain and went back inside, only to hear the man burst out laughing again.
“I should fire you, Santa,” Ethan yelled.
“Then who would put your presents under the tree?” his grey bearded, red-cheeked friend shouted back.
Shaking his head, Ethan went over to the bar and made himself a double scotch on the rocks before wandering into his office. He couldn’t help but wonder if she would leave him high and dry. She was definitely spooked. He could see it in her eyes, despite her attempt to put on a strong front. It was that little weakness which drew him in.
She could be the best thing that happened to his boat or the worst thing. And which one she would be, he had no idea. Worst of all, there was something inside him that was in an uproar, and he couldn’t tell if it was because of her or the nightmare he had last night. They had all drowned in a freak boating accident. He could still feel the water in his lungs.
That was probably why he wasn’t on top of his game in the interview with Jenna. He wasn’t usually so unprofessional, and the last thing he needed was a sexual harassment lawsuit, especially when he was at the height of his career.
He couldn’t afford to have anything derail his goals. One of his screenplays had been bought not that long ago, and it was being filmed. The same Hollywood producer was vying for the one he was writing now. No rest for the weary writer. They figured this new fantasy story would top the charts.
Turning on his laptop, he stared at the blank page before him. He was three quarters of the way through, and it wasn’t going smoothly. The characters had him backed into a corner, and he wasn’t sure which way to go. His initial plan wasn’t working out the way he’d wanted it to, and now he had to re-think his strategy. It reminded him of why he liked the freedom of flying free, writing whatever came to his mind, as opposed to having a strict outline.
But since everyone was expecting a particular story, he had to stay as close to the original synopsis as possible. It was giving him a bloody headache. However, being out on the water had a way of opening up his mind, and he knew it would be the same this time if he could forget his drowning nightmare.
Taking another sip of his scotch, he leaned back in his chair, attempting to visualize the screenplay scene in his mind. But it was her face swirling before him, her hazel eyes mesmerizing him. And he found himself making a character of her in his head. She’d be the perfect assassin in his next story.
Grinning, he wrote the thought down in his idea journal, hoping to return to it at a later date, and then placed it in the bottom drawer of his desk. The book had better be kept under lock and key if he was going to have her work on board. She’d likely toss him overboard again if she read it.
Ethan ran his hands through his dark chocolate-coloured hair. He was thankful to still have a full head of it, unlike his dad, who had started going bald by the time he was twenty-nine. In a month, Ethan would turn thirty, and his goal was to be floating through the waters of the Caribbean by then.
Roger poked his bald head in the door, looking rather sheepish. “Sorry, I know you don’t like being bothered while you’re working.”
“What’s up?”
“I’m about to head to Costco to stock up. Is there anything you want me to get?”
“Can you pop by the liquor store on the way back and get a bottle of Scotch? I have a feeling I’m gonna need it by Monday.” When Ethan looked back down at his laptop, he still felt Roger’s eyes on him and glanced up again. “Anything else?”
“Do you need me to cook dinner tonight, or will you be okay on your own?”
“I’m sure I can figure something out. Why?”
With a shy smile, he said, “Mark asked me out to dinner.”
Ethan grinned. “That’s so gay.”
“Well, duh,” Roger said with a wink.
“Have fun. I’ll see you guys later.”
His friends were going to have more fun than he would tonight. He hated deadlines. They took the fun out of everything. As soon as this script was finished, he was going to take a nice long break, spend some time enjoying life.
The phone in his pocket vibrated, and the specialized tune he’d set for his mom filled the air. Groaning, he pulled it out of his pocket and answered the call.
“So, do you like her?” she asked.
“Ya, she was a barrel of laughs.”
“Now you be nice to her!”
“Tell her to be nice to me. She’s the one that knocked me on my ass.”
The phone went silent on the other end, and he’d thought she’d hung up for a second until her laughter made him hold the phone away from his ear. “She didn’t?”
“She did. Three times in fact.”
“Good. You need someone who can stand up to you.”
“Stop playing matchmaker, please! Trust me when I say you won’t get any grand-babies from her.”
“We’ll see.”
“I gotta go, Mom,” he said, hanging up the phone before she could say goodbye. Great. She was at it again. He could bet one hundred percent she was the reason they sent a female stewardess and not a male one like he’d requested. If it was the last thing he ever did, he was going to prove to her once and for all that he was fine on his own. He didn’t need or want a woman.

xoxo,
Patricia
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Thank you for all of your support! I truly appreciate you! Until next time,
Patricia
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