From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Tricia O’Malley, comes a brand new romance series about love, self-discovery, and embracing your inner mermaid.
She shouldn’t be on this island.
If she was smart, Samantha Jameson would turn around and march right back to the plane that deposited her at a faded hut of an airport on Siren Island. Yet, Samantha just can’t muster the energy to do so, not after the hellish week she’s had. Her whole life has been spent playing by the rules, and for what? An empty apartment, a career with no upward movement, and one failed relationship after another. When it all blows up in her face, what’s a girl to do but book a last-minute trip to the ridiculously named Laughing Mermaid Bed & Breakfast on an unknown speck of an island in the Caribbean?
Lucas Mosteron knows all about burning out from first-hand experience. Over the years, he’s discovered that he isn’t the only one, as everyone has their own unique story for landing on Siren Island. His lovely and mysterious neighbors at The Laughing Mermaid Bed & Breakfast are no exception. Little does he know that there is more to their story than he could ever have imagined possible. When Samantha Jameson arrives as their guest – depleted and needing respite, Lucas can’t help but feel like he could be the man she needs. Irresistibly drawn to her uptight demeanor, Lucas is determined to unwind Samantha and show her that life on Siren Island could be the answer to all her problems.
As interruptions went, it was a doozy, Sam thought, glad that the sunglasses shaded her eyes and hoping her hat hid the fact that her mouth had dropped open. A man had pulled his kayak to shore down the beach, where Sam just now realized a house was all but hidden on a hill among swaying palm trees. Tanned skin rippled over lithe muscles as he hefted his kayak with an easy grace and put it on a small dock. Sam wondered if he worked for the owner of the villa. Tattered board shorts hung loosely from his hips and wraparound sunglasses shaded his eyes. Deep brown hair with just a kiss of sun at the tips had been left to grow a little long, and Samantha was astonished to find herself itching to run her hands through it. Now where had that thought come from? Sam was not one to fantasize; she hadn’t even allowed herself to date since the disastrous end of her engagement. Her eyes slid to the cover of the romance novel on the table next to her, where a pirate readily embraced a woman whose bosom – it was always a heaving bosom in those novels – threatened to break free from her tightly laced bodice.
“Have you seen our dreamy neighbor?” A voice at her shoulder shocked Samantha out of her reverie; she’d been staring at the man like he was a piece of cake and she was on a diet.
“Excuse me?” Samantha asked, pulling her shoulders back and leveling a look at the woman who’d plopped into a lounge chair beside her.
“Him. The man you’re looking at like you’re a cat who wants to lap up a bowl of cream?” the woman said. All rounded curves and tumbling curls, she evoked a confident sensuality that Samantha could never muster even on her best days.
“I was most certainly not looking at him like I wanted to eat him,” Samantha sputtered.
“Ignore her. Jolie would lap up every man she came across if she chose,” Another woman slid into the chair on the other side, and Samantha turned to see another voluptuously beautiful woman smiling at her. Great, Samantha thought, refusing to look in the direction of the man who undoubtedly could see them. She was bookended by curvy knockouts and probably looked like a staid stick-in-the-mud tourist plastered in sunscreen and boring books.
“And every man would be lucky to have me if I let him,” Jolie preened. She stretched languidly on the lounge, her screaming pink bikini leaving little to the imagination, her midnight curls tumbling everywhere.
“It’s a blessing to mankind that you’re more discerning, then, isn’t it?” The woman on Sam’s right was just as luscious in a simple white bikini, her blonde hair woven into intricate braids that reached almost to her waist.
“Don’t act like you’re so pure, Mirra. I saw you cuddling with that yacht captain from Antigua just last week,” Jolie said, twirling a curl around her finger.
“I never said I was pure,” Mirra demurred. “I merely told our guest here to ignore you as you’re embarrassing her.”
“I’m not –” Samantha protested, but Jolie had already sat up straight.
“Am I embarrassing you? I’m so sorry. My mouth gets ahead of me sometimes. A strength and a fault of mine, I suppose.”
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About Tricia O’Malley:
New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author, Tricia O’Malley, lives in the Caribbean with her much doted-upon dogs, Briggs and Blue. On a typical day you will find her lost in the worlds of her making or gearing up to go scuba diving. Tricia loves fun vacation reads, hates wimpy characters, and hosts a serious addiction to traveling the world. She finds inspiration on the go – and you’ll often find her books set in beautiful settings with characters tangled in affairs of the heart…or murder.
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