The Shucker's Booktique by J.C. McKenzie

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    After her fiancé dumps her and her beloved Aunt Jenny goes missing, Willa Eklund travels to Lobster Cove with a broken heart to search for Jenny while running her bookstore. When a mysterious man visits the Shucker's Booktique on a stormy night drenched in rain and covered in mud, Willa's heart melts under his stormy gaze. She wants Lon and the answers he may have, but he also has a secret. Can Willa trust him?
    Lon Devlin is a Tempest, a water sprite who can only take a human form during stormy nights. He rides the waves, lives by the tides, and nothing can hold him down, not even a beautiful woman. When he visits his mortal friend, he discovers she's missing and her intriguing niece has taken her place. He wants Willa, but he also wants answers. What happened to Jenny?

    Rating: Spicy
    Page Count: 111
    Word Count: 28100
    978-1-62830-659-0 Digital


    Thump! Thump! Thump!

    No! She gasped. It couldn’t be. The banging on the front door of the booktique had to be a figment of her imagination. She couldn’t will Lon into existence. Why would he come back? Especially if he was involved. Unless…cold ice prickled up her spine…unless he needed to eliminate her.

    No. Crazy thoughts, Willa. He could’ve taken care of her the night before. No, her heart hammered against her chest for a different reason. But it didn’t matter. The knocking on the door wouldn’t, couldn’t be him.

    Thump! Thump! Thump!

    Could it? She clutched her hot mug in both hands and turned toward the doorway leading to the bookstore. From the kitchen in the back room, she had a clear view through the store to the front door, but not who stood on the other side.

    “Willa!” Lon growled. “Wake up and let me in!”

    Willa gasped and almost dropped her cup. The tea sloshed around, and some spilled over her hands. It burned, but she didn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Somehow the air got trapped inside her throat. Why was he here? What did he want?

    Oh god, let it be me!

    She bit her lip. Foolish woman! He wouldn’t want someone so plain. Maybe he had news of her aunt. She set her cup down on the table and scrambled to the booktique’s front door.

    Thump! Thump! Thump!

    “Willa! It’s hailing!” Lon yelled.

    “Shush,” she hissed back. “I’m coming.” She flicked on the lights, unbolted the door and swung it open.

    Lon stood with his arms at his sides, pelted by large, marble-sized balls of hail. His hair lay plastered to his face and his storm gray eyes burned with each lightning flash.

    Kiss him!


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The Shucker's Booktique

The Shucker's Booktique

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