Storms, sand, surf, and romance

Just when Nevada Noble begins to feel a part of the Salem Crossing community, a storm on the Florida coast threatens to upend her new life. Will the terrible lies she’s been telling destroy her future with the man she loves? Can uncovered secrets ruin lifelong friendships? Unexpected romances strike like lightning, sending thundering reverberations along the coastline. New dangers arrive on fierce winds, shaking the foundations of the community to the very core. Will Neve survive the hurricane of mystery and danger blowing through town, or will everything she cares about be laid to ruin as the storm tears through the lives of everyone in SX?

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Release Date: October 29, 2024
Genre: Contemporary Romance

~ A Red Satin Romance ~

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Excerpt

Alistair Salem stood in the sand along his favorite beach. Sure, the stretch of coastline back in town had his name on it. Towers along Salem Shores featured the family’s brand up and down the oceanfront property. Intricately developed and immaculately maintained, experts routinely rated the resort area in SX as one of the finest stretches of sand in the world. Yet Alistair had his feet planted here. He’d rather be nowhere else in the world.

But he couldn’t stay long.

A storm was coming.

The palm trees inland swayed in the strong wind. Sand swirled at his feet, blowing against his legs in an abrasive friction he could feel through his beige chinos. The waters of the Atlantic churned wildly, whitecaps promising danger, waves repeatedly clapping against the shores in ominous applause. Gray clouds menaced offshore, a line of rain holding at bay, as if assessing the resistance before making its deadly strike. Alistair could respect that.

This island represented everything Alistair wanted for his future. Years ago, his family had commissioned him to develop the offshore paradise into a resort. After the Salems became fully established with development on every square inch of family-owned land, they had to acquire more real estate or develop the remote sections of property they already owned.

The Salems acquired the stretch of islands scattered along the coastline of Florida in the original purchase deed that divided the land between the six original families. No one thought the coastal properties would be worth anything a hundred years ago. They still owned everything except for Hahkv Island—also known as the cursed Nightmare Island. His sister, Jackie, had sold Hahkv Island off to the Mascolo family, who’d used it for nefarious purposes. It worked to Alistair’s advantage, as everyone always focused on that damned isle and paid little attention to any activity on the other plots of land scattered offshore of Salem Crossing.

“We need to evacuate before the weather gets any worse.”

Alistair turned and looked at the woman beside him. She was an essential part of his plan. The secret of her family had been revealed by the snoopy newcomers in SX, but he could use it to his advantage. The Iblīs family had made a splash when Nevada Noble and her entourage discovered Neil Halloweather’s connection to a long-lost original family of Salem Crossing. Neil was a descendant of Ebrahim Iblīs who had foolishly sold his family’s share of SX to Nathaniel Salem, Alistair’s ancestor, in 1897. Neil confessed to killing Alistair’s cousin, Domino, and her brother, Sean, before being gunned down by a Graham. Alistair had no use for Neil, anyway. His niece would make a much better partner, and she looked a helluva lot better in a bikini.

Britney Zhang faced into the wind, her blonde hair trailing behind her. Alistair corrected himself—Britney Iblīs. She finalized her divorce from Owen Zhang yesterday and reclaimed her proper family name. As the illegitimate daughter of Alistair’s father, she could’ve claimed a place in the Salem family. Instead, Alistair’s half-sister honored her maternal heritage. Liz Halloweather was an Iblīs.

Britney could turn the terrible events perpetrated by her uncle Neil into sympathy for herself. Neil Halloweather’s confession would only strengthen her position in SX. She could play the stoic martyr making amends for her uncle’s awful actions. Everything continued to work in Alistair’s favor. His plan was progressing ahead of schedule.

“The yacht is prepped and ready to depart,” Alistair said. “One hour.”

He turned and looked inland. Aunt Tessa, the influential matriarch of the Salem dynasty, had put Alistair in charge of the island resort. Four years later, it neared completion. The finished product would be far beyond anything Tessa imagined for this project. Alistair’s accomplishment would alter Salem Crossing forever. He was about to transform this town.

“What if the storm ruins everything?” Britney asked.

“The resort can withstand a Cat-5 without suffering a single leak,” Alistair said. “Nothing to worry about.”

“What about the rest of SX?”

“The hurricane is going to do our job for us,” Alistair said. “My plans are malleable. We can make this work to our advantage.”

Britney gave him a dazzling smile. “Perfect.”

“Damien’s ready?”

“Like a rabid dog straining at its collar,” Britney replied. “I only need to let go of his leash.”

“Soon,” Alistair said. “Wait for my word.”

Britney leaned into the wind. The gale force plastered her dress against her form. Alistair remembered summers on the beach ogling Britney Halloweather before she became Britney Zhang. It turned out Britney had always been half Salem. He looked away before his thoughts turned lustful. Alistair Salem will have enough to atone for without adding incestuous fantasy to his pending list of sins.

“I need to check on the guest one last time before we depart,” Alistair said.

“Ask him if he thinks he’s a guest,” Britney challenged.

“It’s for his own good,” Alistair said.

“What about the prisoners?”

“I don’t care if they survive the hurricane,” Alistair dismissed. “You can check on them.”

“Not a chance. I’m getting on the yacht before the rain starts,” Britney said, forging toward the ship docked in the bay. She was right—they needed to get to the mainland before things worsened. Otherwise, they’d be waiting out the hurricane while sheltered in an unfinished resort village.

The storm was coming for them. After taunting its direction for half the day, the front turned toward the peninsula and headed inland from the ocean. Current models put SX smack dab in the bull’s eye and projected Hurricane Marlena would make a direct hit on the town as a Cat-2. Soon, the swells would make the ocean between here and Salem Shores impassible.

A skeleton crew would remain on the island. Maintenance, security, communications, and his resort manager. And Nestor Iblīs with his secret project back in the Bungalow Bunker. Alistair never bothered Nestor unless necessary. That dude was creepy as hell. But Nestor’s insidious plans for SX dovetailed perfectly with Alistair’s grand designs for the town.

Alistair modeled the architecture after prestige resorts all over the world. He flew in renowned designers for consultations that he hosted at the SX Club and Salem Manor, where Tessa Salem could see his efforts. The parade of visitors presented portfolios and pitched proposals. Alistair gave the artists the grand tour of Salem Shores and promised to consider the fantastic suggestions seriously. Ultimately, he copied the Pirate Cove Resort floor plan from up the coast down to the last Spanish tile and disregarded all the other suggestions.

This was never going to be a resort.

It was a lair. Alistair intended it to be under perpetual construction, and now, the hurricane would provide the ideal opportunity to delay the inevitable questions on the lack of progress. By the time the town recovered from the storm, his nefarious plans would be underway.

The fantasy island vibe created the perfect front for a despicable undertaking. The fun and sun acted as a façade disguising a whole enclave of chambers designed to keep people locked out or locked up. Nestor’s Bungalow Bunker housed some truly disturbing science experiments. The insidious genius took a page right out of Dr. Moreau.

Not precisely a jail cell or a mad scientist laboratory, the Rocco Chateau featured lavish accommodations and an open floor plan even though the guest couldn’t leave of his own accord. Britney called Alistair’s guest a prisoner, but there were no bars on the doors or chainlink over the windows. The person who’d occupied this place for the last few years knew he had no choice but to stay put.

The interior was dark. The electricity came from a generator and would stay on through the storm. An extensive network of underground cables connected the structures, ensuring the island would sink into the sea before the power went out. The deep shadows that concealed every corner of the room remained dark by choice.

“You there?”

“Where the hell else would I be?”

“You can go anywhere you want,” Alistair offered. “I’ve told you a hundred times that the Rocco Chateau isn’t a prison.”

“Not all cages are made of steel and bars, Alistair. Sometimes life can shackle as securely as any irons.”

“Not exactly a fortune cookie anecdote,” Alistair quipped. “I’m heading into the mainland before the storm keeps me here. I have business that needs attending.”

“Does any of that business concern my future?”

“We’ll see,” Alistair said. “You’re an integral part of the plan. Depending on the storm, we might be able to move the agenda forward by weeks. Maybe months. You could be activated before the end of the year.”

“Activated. Like an insurance policy.”

Alistair didn’t mean it that way, but that described it exactly. He didn’t disagree.

“What about her? You leaving her out on the island with me?”

“Stay away from the cells,” Alistair warned. “I know you already sneaked a peek while she was asleep last night. You show yourself, and you’ve wasted all these years of work and sacrifice.”

“I’m not making any new friends,” came the guest’s forlorn tone from inside the shadows.

“Plenty of food,” Alistair said. “Stay away from the Bungalow Bunker and don’t go anywhere near the capti—”

“Is it who I think it is?”

“Who else would it be?”

“I haven’t seen her in a long time. Hell, it could be anyone.”

“You know who it is,” Alistair said. “And you know why you have to stay away from her.”

Alistair turned and left his guest. He knew damn well Britney would leave his ass on this isle if he didn’t get to the boat in time. They were partners and half-siblings, but Brit didn’t care for Alistair any more than she did her cheating ex-husband.

Alistair had to lean into the wind to get to the yacht. The captain would never refuse to taxi Alistair across to SX, but he wondered if the trip might have become too dangerous. The origin story of his family’s history in Florida featured a sunken ship with fabulous treasure—he couldn’t let another Salem vessel become wrecked.

He barely reached the gangplank as the captain ordered the crew to weigh anchor and set sail for Salem Shores. The deck rose and fell as the ship started across the sea. Alistair had spent more hours on a boat of any Salem other than his sister, Naomi, but this rough surf may make him seasick.

Britney waited on deck, observing the approaching chaos of the storm. She smiled as she stared at the impending Armageddon. Lightning crackled across the horizon and rolling thunderheads advanced as the captain tried to stay ahead of it. The storm moved on a direct path toward SX. Hurricane Marlena was a monster unleashed from Hades, coming for all the world’s sinners. It would certainly find no shortage of miscreants in Salem Crossing.

“I started to think you were going to stay behind,” Brit said.

“And miss the fun?” Alistair said. SX was about to get torn apart piece by piece. “Not a chance in Hell.”

 

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