Title: Sea Hunter
Author: D. V. Stone
Genre: Action adventure / Paranormal romance
Book Blurb:
A wisp of smoke, a swirl of promise, a breath of destiny…a message within the Mortar & Pestle for those who want to believe. Throughout time people have sought their heart’s desire. But true love is often elusive. Carved with ancient Norse runes, the Mortar & Pestle shows paths to happily-ever-afters. Once you capture the Mortar & Pestle’s scent of magic, you’ll want to read all seven individual romances.
Sea Hunter:
On the turbulent high seas, an archeologist must protect a historic shipwreck from treasure hunters—not fall for one.
Zahra Corbyn.
I’m a Sea Hunter. As an underwater archeologist and professor of antiquities, it is my duty to stop treasure hunters and looters from raiding Sea Wraith. But fate is a funny thing. Now I find myself working with Jack Alexander, a treasure hunter, to protect history from a known looter. Did my heart’s desire change?
Captain Jack Alexander.
I’ve been told women on a ship are unlucky, but this one has the two pieces of the map I need to finally claim Sea Wraith. Now I find myself in a deal that makes me one-third partner with her and a known scoundrel.
Can the two unlikely allies work together while safeguarding their hearts against the power of the Mortar and Pestle?
If you like Lara Croft and Indiana Jones, you’ll love Zahra Corbyn and Jack Alexander.
Excerpt:
“Come on, gorgeous.” Hugh slunk up behind her again, his plummy voice sliding over her like mold on fruit. “You like the attention. Stop playing hard to get.”
Zahra Corbyn flinched. Between the wind blowing and her fascination with the choppy waters off Cape Cod, she’d missed the sound of his approach. This man needed to leave her alone. The jerk saw her USO dancing-and-singing act overseas and decided she was easy. Though World War II was over, this battle raged on. She turned and stiff-armed him to keep him away. “I’ve told you more than once—I’m not interested.”
“Listen, chippies like you are nothing but teases.” He grabbed her wrist. A greasy lock of dark hair fell across his forehead. “I…”
“It’s lady, jerk.” She let her arm go soft as she kicked out and broke the hold. “And I said, ‘no’.”
Taking a boxer’s stance, she fisted her hands. This guy picked the wrong woman to mess with. Zahra knew how to take care of herself.
A sneer crossed his face under the bushy eyebrows and wide flat nose, but he turned away.
Zahra relaxed. After being released with the last USO troop, she was tired and wanted nothing more than to be left alone. Besides, the ocean waves called to her.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw him swing back around with a viper’s speed.
She whirled about.
His shoulder hit her stomach.
“Oomph.”
“You tease. I’ll show you.” He rushed forward. “Filthy Jezebel.”
Zahra flailed when he pitched her over the rail of the steamer.
The sneering smile got smaller, and he saluted before the frigid Atlantic water closed over her.
Splashing into the rough water, she suppressed her initial gasp. As an experienced diver, she understood the peril of aspirating saltwater. However, her heartbeat was out of control. When the disorienting shock of hitting the cold ocean in the darkness dissipated, she kicked toward the surface, following the bubbles up. Gasping and sputtering, she stared at the disappearing ship while treading water in its wake.
The fall hurt, but it hadn’t killed her, not like the cold water would. Already her arms and legs were becoming uncoordinated. Tingling along the nerves turned into stabs of pain. Her muscles contracted. Thinking became muddled.
In the distance, a lighthouse flashed a beacon before another wave swamped her.
Zahra kicked her way back to the surface, but a current dragged at her legs like a sea monster’s tendrils.
So close to home, and she would die out here. Alone. Killed by the elements she loved and researched. Maybe another underwater archaeologist would find and study pieces of her clothes and jewelry.
She’d survived two ocean crossings, a world war, and a stint working for the Office of Strategic Services.
Boston was only about fifty nautical miles away.
She’d read most deadly accidents happened close to home.
Stop and focus, Zahra.
Surfacing once more, she coughed and turned three hundred sixty degrees, looking for anything to help her. A buoy, a plank, floating garbage.
She wasn’t shivering anymore. Uh-oh, this was it. Her body was shutting down. Slowly, she descended below the surface. A flicker of light caught her attention. Was that a ship? Or rather the wreck of one? She must be hallucinating.
The depth of the water here wasn’t bad, considering. Only about twenty to thirty feet. Could it be Sea Wraith? Archeologists and fortune hunters had been searching for her for years. The figurehead poking from the sand and silt resembled a specter with its gaping maw and tendrils like an octopus. Spots developed in her vision. The last thing she saw was the shape of a man standing on the ship’s figurehead.
Jack Alexander wiped the spray off his face with one arm while hanging onto the ship’s wheel. He cursed again while dodging a medium-sized passenger ship. The conditions obscured the red and green lights until it was nearly on top of him. Obsession with locating the Sea Wraith kept him out searching long after he should’ve returned to shore at Cape Cod. And being alone since his mate bailed on him last week, it would be a miracle if his ship, Freya, didn’t go down and join the Wraith in Davy Jones’s Locker.
Suddenly, something flew off the passenger ship’s deck. It splashed off the starboard side of Freya.
He darted to the rail and peered into the dark waters. Whatever it was, the ship kept going, and it was caught in the wake of choppy water.
Jack cut the engines and grabbed the spotlight. The light reflected off the whitecaps. There. Just ahead and caught in a current. A pile of rags was heading out for the open waters. Then the beam lit up the features of a woman before she went under. “Great Caesar’s ghost.”
He fired up Freya, moved closer to the area, and then stopped again. Using the search beam, he spotted her on a slow descent. With the blunt-ended boat pole, he leaned as far over as possible. A wave hit, and he almost joined her in the drink.
Missed.
Despite the sharp, frigid spray, he was sweating when finally, on the fourth try, he hooked her coat. “Gotcha.”
The woman was deadweight when he hauled her first onto the dive platform and then up onto the main deck of the boat. Jack dropped to the floor next to her and tore her coat away, and then raised her arms overhead. He did a few chest compressions on her, Muttering, “Come on, come on.”
Finally she sputtered up water and gasped.
He helped her to a sitting position.
Holding her chest, she coughed up more water and then gulped in air. “Where am I?” She coughed. “What happened?”
“Come on, let’s get you below where you can dry off.” He steadied her as she rose and almost fell. “I have some dry clothes you can change into. I’m Jack. What’s your name?”
Nodding, she clung to his arm. “Za……”—Cough—“Zahra.”
“Okay, Zahra. Let’s get you warmed up.” Jack eyed the choppy surf before leading her through the midship bay and below into the galley. “I’ve got to get us back to Cape Cod before we both end up as fish bait.”
She’d started shivering. That was a good sign.
“Here we are.” He opened the small door to the galley and then ducked to follow her.
The compact cabin boasted an eating booth with a tiny kitchen. His bedroom was just forward of that. A couple of bunks were flanked by storage on the rear wall.
Jack yanked one cabinet open and grabbed a towel and some dry clothes. “These will be big on you, but you’ll be dry. Will you be okay, or do you need help?”
“Thank you. I’ll be fine.” The woman took the items with shaking hands. “I’m actually a diver. It just happened so fast.”
“These conditions would take their toll on anyone, experienced or not.” He opened the door to a blast of icy wind, reluctant to leave her alone. “Just wait down here.”
Zahra nodded.
Velvety-brown eyes shone out of her wet, bedraggled, and miserable face. Well, at least she was alive. He jogged up the stairs. Now he needed to return to shore so he could keep her that way. Once he was back on deck, he checked the conditions. Thank God, the wind was calming. Thank God. Maybe the storm was abating a bit.
Jack would never admit it to anyone, but tonight’s experience shook him. The feeling deep in his bones that he was closing in on the location of Sea Wraith after all these years had urged him on. Then the storm came out of nowhere. It was as if the ship didn’t want to be found.
And the woman? What if he’d lost her? If he hadn’t been able to snag her clothes with his pole? No! He wasn’t going down that path.
The revolving light of the Race Point Lighthouse pierced the darkness and beckoned him home.
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Link to series https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BS42PKHZ
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BookBub review:
What a fun read! Magic, treasure, and opposites having to work together? What more could you want? It's definitely a quick read you won't want to put down.
Giveaway –
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Runs June 29 – July 6, 2023.
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Author Biography:
D. V. Stone is an award-winning, multi-genre, traditionally and independently published author. She writes books people want to read. Whether romance or fantasy, her stories are about the importance of friends and family. About overcoming obstacles while doing it with humor.
Since retiring, she has been a full-time author and blogger. Around the Fire is a popular weekly blog where she introduces both established and new authors giving an insider’s look into their lives and books as well as tidbits about her own life.
A former Emergency Medical Technician, she volunteered in New Jersey and Pennsylvania and worked professionally in a women’s state prison. D. V. was the proprietor of a coffee shop and then a small restaurant/ice cream stand. The years following were as a manager in an animal emergency hospital, while her last position was in a human medical office.
When not behind the wheel of 2Hoots—a 41-foot long 13.2 feet high 5th Wheel camper, she rambles around town in Northern New Jersey in a white Camaro. She also loves travel and history.
D.V. is a wife to an amazing husband, mother to one son, and not your average grandma to three beautiful grands. A woman of faith, she believes and trusts in God.
“My greatest pleasures are spending time outside with friends and family, cooking over the open fire, sipping a glass of wine, and reading.”
Hali, her rescue dog, always reminds her to let readers know, “Woof, woof.” Which is loosely translated as support your local animal rescue.”
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