RealLife Rum

ISBN Digital: 978-1-62830-720-7
Page Count: 80
Word Count: 17959
Rating: Hot

The Hard Stuff

Who determines your destiny? The gods or the gods of money?

After she's invited to Dusky Beach, Florida, Marina Winston believes she'll finally meet her mysterious benefactor. But sometimes fate is a twisted bitch. One minute she's flirting with the security guard, the next he's been shot. RealLife Shares, a spy who loves her, a pink pistol, and Mr. X, the mysterious multimillionaire who lives on his own private island... All this has something to do with Marina, but she has no idea what.

She only knows Officer Handsome, the detective interrogating her, has clear blue eyes like an Alaskan dog, and boy, does he turn her on. He really doesn't want to go there. Yet to her, the cool cop represents the chance to demonstrate her freedom of choice. And Marina is determined to choose her own destiny.


The police officer was really good looking. Tall and beefy, prematurely gray. Sexy, stern, quietly in charge. My kind of hero. Especially when I was in the kind of trouble it appeared I was in.

I gave him a sweet little smile. I tried tossing my head so my long blonde hair would catch his eye. I hummed softly, shifted around in my seat. Yawned and stretched like a sleek cat.

He didn’t respond. He didn’t even glance my way. Instead, he kept studying whatever he had up on his computer screen. Frowning at it, clicking through it. Not looking at me. In fact, he’d been ignoring me for like fifteen minutes.


Maybe the green-tint fluorescent light coming from the saggy plastic strips over our heads was unflattering. You think? One of them was buzzing. So annoying.

I hummed a tiny bit louder. No reaction from the cop. Maybe I looked hideous, all pale and wishy-washy. Drained of sex appeal. That would suck.

Or maybe he thought I was a mental wreck. Totally freaked out. Which I was. But I had good reason to be. Watching a man get killed was not something I was used to doing. Even though I was from Los Angeles. Home of the everyday gore murder.

So yes, I was shaken up. Plus, I was bored, tired, and not sure what was coming my way next. This particular brand of craziness had not been on my agenda for this two-day trip, my first to the east coast. No wonder I felt like going straight to a dive bar and ordering a big slushy daiquiri. But I couldn’t. I had no choice. I had to sit there, in the joke of a police station, in a boxy office, directly across a cluttery desk from Mr. Serious Law Officer. So that’s what I was doing.

Copyright © 2018 The Wild Rose Press, Inc.