Wednesday, October 3, 2018
#BookQW word is LONG. Here is an excerpt with the word from the #Tirgearr #eroticromance series, City Nights-- One Night in Havana
LONG is the Book Quote Wednesday word. From an excerpt in ONE NIGHT IN HAVANA, a New York marine biologist is dropping off artwork on her cruise ship. It's common for tourists to Havana, Cuba to stay on their ship instead of finding a hotel. A hotel would have been safer!
Stepping along the empty pier, she braced against the wind. Above her, clouds swelled and sailed across a full moon. A sudden gust blurred her vision. The heavy parcel put her off balance, and she tripped.
"You okay, lady?" The security guard wore her cruise ship’s light blue uniform, stretching tight over his double-wide body.
"I'm fine. My heel caught in the grate on the ramp. I dropped my purse."
With a menacing air, the guard rocked the pier as he came toward her. “Storm’s coming. Not for a few hours, though. When it does, we’ll get rain, wind, thunder, and lightning.”
“Sounds like the whole enchilada.” Alone at the end of the long pier with wide-hairy-brawny, her heart pounded with dry-mouthed panic, but she stood tall.
He puffed up his chest. "Hey. You're the marine biologist. Veronica Keane?"
"That's me. I’m dropping this parcel at my cabin."
“Artwork?” The ape's glare traveled down her body from the scoop neckline to her bare legs. She fought the urge to tug at the bottom of the knee-length dress.
It struck her as ironic a cruise ship smuggling cocaine employed guards. Wait a minute. Were guards hired to keep guests off the ship so that drugs could be loaded onboard? "You remember me, right?” she asked.
"Oh, yeah. I've seen you onboard." He shifted into an apologetic slouch. “I’m Chuck, by the way.”
"One more day, Chuck. Then it’s back to winter." She didn't explain her business in Havana or why her hopes of winning a grant were dashed. Dashed because of Dr. Carlos Montoya.
Chuck picked up her purse and handed it to her. "Most guests are partying in Old Havana. I'll put that tube in a locker for you.”
“Okay." Catching his gist, she gave up on the idea of getting into her cabin.
“I’ll label it.” He took it and smiled ear-to-ear, no doubt familiar with dressed up women in high heels. "So, are you going?"
"Of course. I'm a party-goer." She injected buoyancy into her voice while clutching her hands around her purse. The most recent party she'd attended was a fundraiser for Saving the Seas where tea and mini bundts were served in snooty Greenwich Village.
The guard spread his lips wide, but his lecherous gaze aimed below her waist.
"Okay, then." Her legs shook. Not a good time since all she wanted to do was walk in the opposite direction.
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