SEA SHENANIGANS SERIES
Buy in ebook Release Date May 20, 2019
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What could possibly go wrong when a Mermaid and a Werewolf are sent on a dangerous mission by the drunken, diaper-wearing God of the Sea?
Better question. What could possibly go right?
Unlike my sisters, I haven’t found my HEA. And I’m looking—hard. But finding a man who wants to blowhole dive in Hawaii on the first date is more difficult than you might imagine. I’ve been forced to settle for a few meaningless orgasms with men who disappear when I suggest fun activities, like scaling twenty stories while blindfolded.
Look, I know meaningless nookie won’t help me find my happily ever after, or even a guy who believes tightrope handstands over the Grand Canyon are fun. But there is someone out there for me so next time I do the horizontal mambo, it’s for keeps.
May the gods help me. Well, me and whoever I boink next.
READ AN EXCERPT
“Just another freakin’ day in paradise,” I muttered to no one as I dipped back down under a crashing wave.
I was playing hooky. I was supposed to be manning the front desk of our tropical island tourist trap, but I decided a forty-two-minute power swim in the ocean would help my frayed nerves. Our tourist business was sucking less than usual. We had a lodge full of both human and immortal guests at the moment. Not real sure who decided picking an island smack in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle was a good plan, but that was exactly what my sisters and I had done a century ago.
And now? Now the Mystical Isle was our home.
“Five more minutes, guys,” I told the pod of dolphins that had joined me while I shirked my responsibilities.
The icy cold water on my overheated skin calmed me. Weaving in and out of the waves, I let my tail do most of the work. White foamy caps on the waves burst and slid back into the sea, morphing to a clear teal blue. The feeling of gliding through the salty water was almost indescribable. However, the restlessness I could sense from the sea creatures around me made my swimming almost manic. Moving fast enough was impossible. And I wasn’t sure if I was swimming toward the unrest or away. Something strange, or bad, or weird was going to happen… or possibly strange, bad, andweird. Kind of like my luck lately.
Was something coming for my island and the people I loved? Or was it coming for me?
I searched the horizon as I floated in my favorite place in the Universe—nothing but clear blue skies and enormous puffy white clouds overhead. My island home was a small dot in the distance. Was there an omen of impending doom in the roar of crashing waves? Was it the agitated behavior of the fish in the sea? Was my imagination working overtime… again?
My shimmering pink tail twitched under the waves as a school of minnows circled me and tickled my scales. Maybe Iwasimagining things. Living forever could do that to a person… or Mermaid, in my case. Remembering to find beauty in the simple things was fast becoming an effort.
Sharing everything with my sisters had made immortality less mundane, but they’d all found luuurve recently—and they were sharing their everlasting lives with their newfound other halves. Tomorrow was my eldest sister’s wedding to her idiot Pirate.
Tallulah, Misty and Ariel had all found their HEAs.
Me? I didn’t have one of those yet. I wanted one, but finding one was tying my tail in knots. Problem was, I was an adrenaline junkie who wanted adventure, life-threatening danger and to scale twenty story buildings while blindfolded. Finding a man who thought blowhole diving in Hawaii was a good date was seriously difficult.
Whatever. Settling for a few meaningless orgasms here and there with dudes who disappeared when I suggested sky diving without parachutes was going to have to suffice for now.
Wait. No. Maybe I was doing this all wrong… Meaningless orgasms were not going to get me a happily ever after or a guy who thought doing a handstand on a tightrope over the Grand Canyon was no biggie.
Fine. Not a problem. I was no longer going to have sex for fun. Next time I did the horizontal mambo, it was going to be for keeps. Finding a keepermight be a challenge, but there had to be someone out there that was as batshit crazy as I was…
May the gods help me, and whoever I boinked next.
“And so by the power vested in me by the online nuptial course I took last week on me pilfered laptop, I now pronounce ye, Pirate and Purple Swimmin’ Hooker,” Bonar shouted, raising his fists high in the air and pumping them like the dolt that he was. His puffy shirt had so much material in the sleeves that his face was completely obscured by the billowing yardage as he danced a spastic little jig around the wildly alarmed bride and grinning groom.
The small crowd was silent, surreptitiously glancing around trying to figure out if Bonar was joking or serious. He was serious and seriously looking to get his butt handed to him. Even the glorious surroundings of our lovely little island with the sun setting over the sparkling teal blue sea couldn’t negate the truth that the bride had just been called a working girl.
“Holy hell and seashells,” I muttered, biting back a grin. We were Mermaids, not humans. A human ceremony was bound to go wrong but I had no clue it would go thiswrong.
My sister Tallulah had just married Pirate Doug aka that colossal mess of immortal idiocyin a human ceremony. The Pirate-Vampire was the very same immortal dimwit who had stolen her heart a century ago. He’d also stolen all of our money because he was a jackass. However, the heart wanted what the heart wanted. Tallulah wanted Pirate Doug and she was getting her wish. Thankfully, he was growing on all of us—mostly like an irritating yet non-fatal rash.
My other two happily mated sisters, Ariel and Misty, glanced over and tried not to laugh. The wedding was turning into a shit show. I had to suck my bottom lip into my mouth to keep from bursting into giggles.
Tallulah most certainly did not need to be called a purple swimming hookeron her wedding day. The Pirates had a very bad habit of referring to Mermaids as hookers. We were not hookers, occasionally loose in the morals department, but not hookers. The use of the term didn’t bode well for the Pirates’ lifespans—immortal or not.
It was all I could do not to wiggle my fingers and send a blast of glittering pink magic to set Bonar on fire. The heinous shirt and lacy breeches would go up in flames beautifully. Besides, a little fire might distract from the fact that the questionably qualified ministerhad just called the bride a streetwalker.
Bonar was immortal just like the rest of us. If he lost an arm or leg in the blaze, it would grow back in a few weeks. Granted it would be itchy, but he deserved a little discomfort for the confusing sermon about eyeliner wearing dingy danglersand cod faced tar stains. The Pirate, who quite accurately referred to himself as an arse, was dimmer than a single watt bulb. I was still shocked that Tallulah had agreed to let him officiate her wedding to the brain challenged love of her immortal life, Pirate Doug. But love and great sex did strange things to people.
All three of my Mermaid sisters had fallen head over tail in love in the past several months. It was wonderful even though they’d all three chosen oddballs. Ridiculously, they insisted I was next, but I couldn’t for the very long life of me figure out who my happily ever after would include.
“Fabulous ceremony,” Pirate Doug bellowed to the crowd. “I shall now bed my hooker.”
Tallulah flipped off her groom and decked him. Most of the guests applauded her violent behavior. Immortals tended to enjoy a little brawling at their gatherings.
Ariel giggled and tossed her teal blue locks over her shoulder. “We certainly go for the asshole idiot types.”
“Speak for yourself,” I chided my youngest sister with an eye roll.
“Umm… I was,” Ariel shot back with a laugh as she snapped her fingers and produced two piña coladas with colorful little paper umbrellas perched on the rims of the glasses.
Thankfully, she handed one to me. I downed it in a single gulp. It was difficult for a Mermaid to tie one on, but I was going to try.
Ariel sipped her drink and watched me wince as the brain freeze kicked in. “Want another?” she inquired with a grin.
“Yessssss,” I hissed, pressing my fingers to my forehead. “Make it a triple. Watching this wedding end in bloodshed requires alcohol.”
“Your turn is next, Madison,” Ariel replied, handing me another fruity drink.
I just rolled my eyes and secretly hoped she was right.
Ariel’s mate Keith was a Selkie with the maturity level of a fourth-grade boy. However, the big dummy loved my blue-haired sister to distraction and she loved his questionably intelligent ass right back.
Ariel’s name wasn’t really Ariel—it was Joan. My baby sister had watched The Little Mermaidso many times she’d adopted the name. Of course, I had no room to talk. My real name was Cindy. However, Splash was my favorite movie. Madisonwas far superior name to Cindy.
“I’m so happy I didn’t opt for a wedding,” Misty said, joining Ariel and me as we watched our sister Tallulah kick her groom’s ass.
Misty’s mate was a freakin’ demigod—Cupid no less. He wasn’t as dimwitted as Keith or Pirate Doug, but he came with his own set of challenges, which included an ego the size of the continental US.
“When you find the man of your dreams, I’d suggest eloping or just living in sin like I do,” Misty said, taking the drink out of my hand and swigging it.
“Noted. Anyhoo, I’m not in the market for a keeper. The single life suits me just fine,” I lied through my teeth. “I prefer blowing stuff up and bungee jumping.”
“Riiight,” Misty muttered with a laugh as she quickly made her way toward the smackdown between the bride and groom. Or to be more accurate… the smackdown of the groom by the bride. It wouldn’t be a Mermaid-Pirate gathering without a little massacre of sorts.
“Life isn’t complete without someone to bungee jump with,” Ariel added with a wink as she too went to separate the bride and groom before we needed a doctor.
“Again. Noted,” I said with another eye roll. Having my sisters feel sorry for me made my scales itch. I was perfectly fine being single and lonely. Not.
My sisters meant well. They were all ridiculously happy and wanted the same for me. Pulling on my pink hair, I sighed. Being a Mermaid was all kinds of fantastic and all kinds of sucky at the same time. Living alone for eternity came with its own set of challenges. We were colorful female warriors with healthy sex drives and deadly magical skills.
At least we’d given up the habits of our Siren ancestors. Eating our paramours was veryold school and seriously gross. Hence the reason being called hookers didn’t exactly fly with us.
Our hair and our eyes were set from birth. My color was pink, Ariel’s was blue, Misty’s was emerald green and Tallulah’s was lavender. Each Mermaid’s hair and eyes were unique to them and no two were alike. However, the color of our tails changed with our moods and our fashion choices. I always matched my tail—or when in human form, my sarong skirt—to my bikini top.
“Did that arse Bonar make a joke, for the love of everything salty?” Poseidon grunted in confusion. “Not sure if I’m supposed to laugh, clap or twerk. These human rituals are bizarre. And if I’m correct, it looks like my idiot son might not survive his wedding.”
“Sadly, Bonar wasn’t joking,” I told the green-haired, man-diaper wearing God of the Sea with an eye roll. “Bonar’s a nard. Pretty sure he has no clue he just insulted the shit out of my sister. As for your son, Pirate Doug is really hard to kill. I’ve tried thirty-two times so I’m gonna go with serious injury, not death. And if you twerk, I’ll zap you bald. You feel me?”
“Is thatthe way you speak to the God of the Sea, Madison?” Poseidon demanded with a raised brow.
“Umm… yep,” I replied with a grin. “It’s a human rule. All grown men wearing what amounts to an adult diaper with a crown and carrying a scepter are not allowed to twerk at nuptial ceremonies. It’s punishable by death or baldness.”
“My gods, humans are such bloodthirsty bastards,” Poseidon hissed, touching the top of his head to reassure himself that his long mossy green—and wayout of style—hair was still present.
Simply shrugging, I smiled. While the God of the Sea did deserve respect, any full-grown man sporting Pampers and not much else was difficult to take seriously.
“I’m nota swimming hooker,” Tallulah shouted at the still dancing Bonar as she stepped on Pirate Doug’s head. “I’m a Mermaid and I have a name. Do the vows again, Bonar or you’ll be dancing the hempen jig.”
I didn’t even try to suppress my laugh. My sister was the freakin’ bomb. All three of my sisters were amazing and I adored them with every scale on my tail. However, even though Tallulah was technically our leader, I was never going to follow her lead if I ever found a keeper and have a wedding. This fiasco was a total shit show.
Bonar, fearing for his life, took another stab at the vows. Pirate Doug seemed thrilled at having had his ass handed to him by my sister. They were a perfectly violent yet loving match. Take two of the wedding began.
I eyed Poseidon who was eyeing me as well. He was my dysfunctional father figure. When the choices for a dad were slim you went with what was available.
“So when do we dive to the bottom of the sea to repair the tear in the abyss so no more demons slip through?” I quietly asked Poseidon as Bonar tried again.
“We’re not,” Poseidon whispered in reply as he popped open another bottle of rum while watching Bonar do his best not to refer to Tallulah as a hooker. The God of the Sea was getting progressively drunker. Whatever. He was usually soused. Maybe he was too tipsy to remember we were supposed to dive down and fix the tear… or maybe not.
“Wait. What?” I asked, feeling deflated. Not that I was jonesing to spend time with my de facto father—he was every kind of insane—but I needed an adventure. Being around all the happiness of my sisters was depressing. A little something potentially deadly was necessary.
“It’s already done,” he informed me, offering me the rum. “Hades owed me for losing the karaoke contest on Mount Olympus last month so I made the evil bastard fix the problem.”
“That’s not fair,” I complained, taking the bottle and downing the rest of the contents. At least it wasn’t frozen. No brain freeze this time, just a slight gag. Straight rum wasn’t my thing, but this day was not turning out as planned… for anyone.
“Not to worry, my little pink haired Mermaid,” Poseidon said, pulling another bottle of rum from his diaper.
I immediately dropped the bottle I was clutching and gagged again. Note to self—wash my hands as soon as possible. How was I to know the God of the Sea carried his alcohol next to his junk? Gross.
“Can you cook?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied, wondering how soused he was.
“What do you think of Gnomes?” he went on.
“Excellent. You’re hired,” Poseidon told me.
“A shit show of epic proportions.”
I stared at the dummy and tried to figure out what plan he had up his sleeve, or in his diaper, since that was all he was wearing. Honestly, I didn’t care. If it was dangerous and I could throw daggers at something, I was in.
“I’ll take the job.”
“Of course you will,” the God of the Sea replied with a grin. “What I command is law.”
With the smallest eye roll possible, I nodded my head in respect to him. “So what’s the mission?”
“The Gnomes are kidnapping lesser gods and torturing them. I need that shit to stop. It’s cutting into my golf time,” Poseidon explained.
“Mmmkay,” I said, glancing over askance at the large freak.
Did he play golf in a diaper? Wait. That wasn’t relevant at the moment. It was appalling, but not important. Lesser gods were being tortured by Gnomes. And what the hell did my cooking skills have to do with any of this?
“Not following,” I said, still picturing the God of the Sea wearing Pampers at the Mount Olympus Country Club.
Poseidon sighed and let his head fall back on his massive shoulders. “Do I have to explain everything?” he grumbled.
“Umm… yes,” I snapped.
“Fine,” Poseidon said with a belch and then took another swig off his bottle. “You will pose as a cooking show star. I’ve already set that up for you. You’re expected on the set of the show shortly. The fucking Gnomes are addicted to cooking shows. You will draw Stew, the Gnome King out of hiding with your beauty and kitchen skills. Once you have him, I’m cool if you’d like to castrate him and skin him alive.”
“Ooookay,” I said, holding back my bile and wondering if Poseidon had lost his debatably sane mind.
Poseidon went on, oblivious to the fact that I’d paled considerably at the horrifying proposal. “Of course, the de-balling and epidermis peeling is simply an added bonus. What I really want is to get my gods back and to send the Gnomes a very clear message that it’s not nice to fool with Poseidon.”
“Or Mother Nature,” I added.
“What the hell does shehave to do with this?” he demanded with a shudder. “She’s insane.”
I really wanted to call pot, kettle, black,but decided it wasn’t in my best interest. He was correct. Mother Nature made Poseidon look normal.
“It was a joke,” I told him as he sagged in relief. “So I’m doing this cooking show alone?”
“Nope,” he said as his smile grew wider.
I didn’t like that one little bit. Poseidon was always up to no good. “One of my sisters is going with me?” I pressed.
“Care to be less cryptic?” I snapped.
“Do you have a man friend at the moment?” he inquired, not making eye contact.
“What in the Seven Seas does that have to do with anything?” I demanded as my fingers began to spark with the need to zap the god sky high. It was bad enough that my sisters gave me crap. I didn’t need the perennially soused God of the Sea all up in my non-existent love life.
“Nothing,” Poseidon replied with a grin. “I’m nosy.”
With an eye roll that deserved an Academy Award, I lifted my middle finger to the dolt. His roar of laughter made a few guests glance back at us. Quickly retracting my finger, I narrowed my eyes at Poseidon and waited.
“The mission?” I hissed quietly, getting him back to the matter at hand. I didn’t need my sister getting pissed at Poseidon for making me angry. She had her hands full with Pirate Doug and Bonar. Thankfully Bonar had not uttered the word hooker once this time around.
“Fine,” Poseidon said, pouting a little. “There’s a Werewolf who owes me. At least I think he does.” My stomach began to churn. I had a teeny tiny bit of a weakness for hairy howling dudes and Poseidon knew it. “But most importantly, he has a death wish like you do.”
My eyes narrowed further and I truly considered zapping Poseidon, but I was smarter than that. “I don’t have a death wish.”
The huge god tilted his head to the side and stared at me with a raised bushy green brow.
“Fine,” I conceded with a drawn out sigh. “I kind of do, but it’s the type of death wish where I don’t really want to die. You feel me?”
“I do indeed,” he replied with a laugh. “This is why I have chosen you. What do you think of Tennessee?”
“Never thought about it,” I told him. “Is that where I’m going?”
“Aye. It is.”
“It’s landlocked,” I pointed out. As a Mermaid, I needed water to survive.
“They have tubs,” Poseidon countered. “Plus it’s where the Gnomes have their main palace.”
“They chose Tennessee?” I asked, confused. Of all the places in the world to live, why would Gnomes choose Tennessee? Of course, I was one to talk. My sisters and I had chosen the Mystical Isle—right smack dab in the heart of the Bermuda Triangle.
“Yessssss,” Poseidon replied, shaking his head. “Gnomes have no taste. Just get my gods back. You might not know this, but I’m in charge of DIC now. I was voted in—kind of—sort of,” he explained with a grimace, downing more of his rum.
I was aghast. It was one thing to carry your booze by your balls. It was entirely another to rule over all the dicks in the Universe. No wonder Poseidon drank so much.
“You’re in charge of all the dicks?” I choked out. I mean, the visual alone was enough to make me want to grab the bottle of rum and down the entire contents even though it had come out of his diaper. And why did I need to know he was in charge of all the dicks? That was TMI—father figure or not.
“Gods, no,” Poseidon said with a bellow of laughter. “DIC—Divine Immortal Circuit. All the gods have to take a turn at governing the other idiot gods, demigods and lesser gods. I lost at strip poker a few months back and have to run the damned thing for the next hundred years. It doesn’t bode well to have the fucking Gnomes absconding with my gods.”
“So that’s it?” I asked, aware that it probably was. Poseidon was good at assigning tasks, but not so hot on the details.
“Yep. You leave tomorrow,” Poseidon said. “Go hug your sister. I’m going to congratulate my son for making it through his nuptials alive. Oh, and there is no need to let any of the humans you come into contact with know of your species. The Gnomes are fucking idiots. Let them think you’re human as well. Do me proud, little Mermaid.”
Bowing my head to the God of the Sea, I grinned. We lived openly in the human world—Mermaids, Werewolves, gods, Gnomes and even Vampires. The human realm was very aware that the Otherworldexisted, but not all were happy about it. “I will. I promise. I’ll bring home your gods.”
And I would. I never broke my promises. Working with a Werewolf would be a piece of cake as long as he wasn’t seriously hot. However, it wouldn’t matter how hot he was. I never missed business and pleasure.
Series: Sea Shenanigans, Book 4
Publisher: Robyn Peterman
Publication Date: May 20, 2019
Genre: Paranormal Romance, Romantic Comedy
Length: 226 pages
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