Welcome to America’s Most Haunted City where pirates once roamed.
Or maybe they still do!
One plundered relic has left them immortal.
The Sentinels of Savannah series kicks off with MAGNOLIA MYSTIC and you can preorder Book 2, PIRATE’S PASSION now! It’ll be out in October….
Two words: Immortal Pirates. It doesn’t get better than that! Sexy, spicy, and so much fun–I can’t wait for the next one! – Alyssa Day, NY Times bestselling author
Skye Olson is a psychic like her mother, and her grandmother before her, but a bad break up with the man she thought was her soulmate has left her confidence in her abilities shaken. While she’s in crisis, a real estate tycoon from Atlanta swoops in with his eyes on her shop.
Colton Hayes spent his mortal life plundering royal ships with his pirate crew, but one holy relic changed everything. Now he and the rest of the crew protect the port of Savannah from their captain who traded his cutlass for a fountain pen.
When Colton discovers the captain wants to build a hotel in the heart of historic Savannah, he sets out to stop him, but nothing could prepare him for the sexy smile and violet eyes of the Magnolia Mystic.
Magnolia Mystic was previously a part of the Magnolias & Moonshine collection.
To celebrate MAGNOLIA MYSTIC’s big release day I’m hosting a Facebook Book Launch party tonight and you’re invited! Hope you’ll come and join in the fun! Click the pic and click Going….
TEASER –
“Pirates, or privateers as they sometimes called themselves, were actually very democratic. Everyone got a cut and the entire crew elected their Captain and Quartermaster…”
The tour guide’s voice faded as Skye Olson made her way toward the stern of the ship. She didn’t come onboard to listen to pirate stories. Growing up in Savannah, she’d heard all of them before, even the faint whispers of the pirate spirits that still walked among them. She was grateful every day that she couldn’t hear the dead.
She’d have to move away.
But the past few weeks had her thinking along those lines anyway. Catching glimpses of the future was her trade, she’d grown up with the sight, but somehow she’d been blindsided when she discovered Curt had been living a double life.
The deceit, and her lack of foresight, had shaken her to the core. How could she offer guidance to her clients if she couldn’t even protect herself?
She stared down at the Savannah River. The water was always changing, just like the boats that had come and gone from this port for centuries. Was it telling her to cast her sails to the wind and get a new start?
Last year she never would have imagined pondering that question. Indecisiveness used to be foreign to her.
She twisted the ring on her finger until it slid free. The engagement—the entire relationship—had been built on lies. Expensive, costly lies. She gripped the ring tight in her fist. She’d left her shop this morning determined to toss it into the moving water.
But now…
“Tour’s up on the bow.” A tall shadow fell over her.
She didn’t take her eyes off the river. “I know, thanks.”
His boots thumped on the deck behind her. “I wasn’t givin’ directions.”
She sighed and glanced over her shoulder. Her gaze traveled up his body, way up, to focus on his dark eyes. “I just need a minute.”
He shook his head, crossing his tan muscled arms over his broad chest. “Plenty of minutes are available with the tour. This area’s off-limits.”
He was just doing his job, but her tolerance for men was at an all-time low at the moment. “I’m not going to touch anything.”
His eyes moved to her feet and back to her face. “Seems you already are.”
Heat burned in her cheeks. “What is it with you men thinking you can just make a law and judge us when we question it?” She jammed the ring in the pocket of her jeans. “I’m sick of your shit. So if you want me to move, you’ll have to do it yourself.”
He raised a brow. “You finished?”
His calm only fueled the tempest inside her. “No, actually, I don’t think I am.” She matched his posture: chest out, arms crossed. “My family’s been in Savannah since it was settled. I know the pirate stories, and I didn’t buy a ticket for a tour and ‘swearing in’ ceremony under the pirate mast. Forgive me for wanting a few minutes peace with the Savannah River.”
He pointed to a sign.
Area is for Crew Only
A spark lit in his eyes. “If you’d been sworn in, you might be able to sway me to let you stay.”
She blew out a frustrated breath, her hands falling to her sides. “Look, I just wanted to toss my engagement ring into the river without getting arrested for littering. I figured no one would see me from up here.”
He relaxed his stance a little. “Must be an idiot to allow a fiery lass like you to get away.”
“Please don’t get flirty.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not in the mood.”
A hint of a smile curved his lips. “Wasn’t flirtin’, just stating a fact.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Speaking of facts, you should pawn the ring. Feedin’ gold to the fish won’t cure heartache.”
“Sage wisdom from a guy working on a pirate ship for tourists.”
His jaw tightened, but he didn’t take the bait. “Time to rejoin your tour.”
She chuckled. “Whatever they’re paying you for security, it’s not enough.”
“It’s my boat. My rules.”
She lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she peered up at him. “You own the Sea Dog?”
“Aye.”
Skye took a step back toward the railing. He couldn’t be much over thirty, if that. And the massive Spanish galleon ship had to be worth…more than she’d ever seen. “Wow. You come from old money?”
He tightened the knot on the bandana covering his head. “Something like that.” He tipped his head at the main deck. “Tour’s almost over.”
“Fine.” She narrowed her eyes. “Thanks for nothing.”
She stomped across the deck to the tour group, taking satisfaction in the clunking of her boots on the hard wood. Men and their freaking toys. The masts snapped above her head, pristine without a single rip or tear.
Okay, so this was an incredibly well-loved, amazing, historic toy, but still.
She crossed the gangplank after the tour, glancing over her shoulder just in time to catch the hottie pirate climbing up the riggings toward the lookout at the top of the mast. Sweat had his period appropriate shirt glued to him like a second skin.
God bless him, his back and shoulders were so chiseled, Michelangelo would be jealous.
Forcing herself to stop staring, she dropped the ring into the river from the plank. Not nearly as dramatic as she’d envisioned, but the deed was done. She was moving on.