First, I apologize for not updating you more often, but I got distracted by the story. Second, …
Currently, St. Andrew’s Bay Chronicles is under beta read and the cover is ready. Therefore, I should be submitting it with plenty of time. I joined Camp NaNoWriMo at the beginning of April and it’s working pretty well. I’m also sprinting on Facebook with a group of great writers to get the word counts going.
There’s not much else in this front. I’ll let you know when final edits are completed.
Enjoy the excerpt below, see you all soon.
By the time they made it back to port, the constable was waiting. The raging fire gave them away. Perhaps Andrew could jump overboard without calling much attention. He really disliked all the formalities of his stature. He just wanted to be left with his sorrow as his only companion. The last couple of days away from his sanctuary had taken a toll on his demeanor. Not that he was a friendly lad, but at least when alone he had a chance to enjoy his thoughts. With the storm season getting closer, the Valero’s trips to the other islands were going to be limited. He was ready to mourn his love in peace, without pretending to be anything other than a common pirate. Only one more challenge before his escape could be complete.
“Permission to come aboard, Captain Callaghan.”
And there went his last hope. He should be used to it by now, but every time he heard the man’s voice, he felt a strong need to mock him. The constable tried very hard to impress everyone with his Spanish accent, but everyone on the island knew he was as criollo as any of them. At least Andrew got the deep tone of his Irish ancestors tamed enough that no one could tell he was not another American in the New World.
“Granted,” Andrew responded. “My valued constable, glad to see you this afternoon,” Andrew said as a greeting to the infuriating man.
“Tales of another killing precedes you, Captain.”
“I am becoming suspicious of your ability to find the truth so easily, Constable Villa Real.”
“Ah. So it is true.”
“Indeed. I had to defend the Valero from a ruthless captain and his crew. As always, we tried to avoid their ship, but were unsuccessful in the endeavor.”
“I see, and you boarding their ship was just your way to get away from them, correct?”
“Yes. You know me so well, Constable. I offered myself in exchange for the safety of my crew and was allowed on board. Unfortunately, they instantly tried to kill me. I just defended myself.”
“And your men followed you?”
“Yes, they are just a great group, my mates.”
“Very well, Captain. I see you are being as helpful as always. I will talk with the prisoners and your crew at a later time. In the meantime, please try not to kill.” And with that, the constable walked away.
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Lila Leigh Hunter 
Dear Author,
Doesn’t this merman look sad and lonely? Can you put a smile on his face?
Matthew Arnold’s 1849 poem The Forsaken Merman tells the story of a merman whose human wife leaves him and their children to return to life on the surface. The haunting final lines of the poem are:
Perhaps the merman in your story is the same one from the poem; perhaps he is a different merman altogether. One thing is for certain: if mermaids keep falling in love with human men, as they do in fairy tales and princess movies, there are going to be a whole lot of single, lonely (and horny?) mermen left in the ocean.
What’s a merman to do?
What will you write? My “favorite” would be a GFY, First-Time or Friends-to-Lovers type of story. But it’s up to you! Sweet romance, kinky merman sex, ménage, MPREG, shifters, tentacle porn— all fine. My only requirement is that one MC be a merman and the other MC(s) be, if not mermen, at least non-human. And of course, a happy ending!