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If you enjoy more traditional or historical romances, my novel Havana Curves is a satisfying and exciting story set in 1950s Cuba during the revolution. It features heart-warming romance and exciting action set against one of the most significant events of the late 20 th century. Please enjoy this excerpt:
We had just enough time to maybe share an intimate moment, get our belongings and drive to meet the charter boat to America. However, we never made it to Marco’s home. As we approached the row houses in Marco’s Cadillac, we saw men waiting outside. There was no doubt why they were there. Marco took a side street before they could identify us and we drove away towards the docks. “We will buy clothes in Florida,” he said and squeezed my knee to reassure me.
“What if we’d been home?” I asked but Marco only looked at me. His eyes told me what I suspected already. We’d have been arrested. Marco took us out of Havana, choosing side streets instead of the wide boulevards to avoid being seen. We drove in silence. Every car we passed I was sure would turn and chase us down. I had never wanted to be somewhere else as much as I did right then. When Tony threatened me, it was only I that would suffer. Now Marco would suffer too if we were caught. I couldn’t bear the thought.
Finally, we arrived at the docks after what seemed like hours. The docks served fishermen mostly and the boat Marco had charted seemed far too big next to the small dock. It wasn’t a large boat but it dwarfed the fishing skiffs that would normally use the wooden docks. Many of the other refugees were already there and waiting including Enrico.
“Ah, Marco. I was worried,” Enrico greeted us.
“With good reason, my friend. Castro’s thugs were waiting for us at my home. If we wouldn’t have left to get dinner, we wouldn’t have been able to join you,” Marco explained. Enrico didn’t look surprised.
“I have heard rumors. I am sure I am on their lists too,” Enrico told us.
“We must leave right away,” Marco said.
“Some of the others haven’t arrived,” Enrico told us. Marco looked at his watch. It was nearing midnight.
“We will wait for a little longer. Take Nancy to the boat and I will wait for the stragglers and keep watch,” Marco told Enrico. I looked at Marco, taking his hand and squeezing. “We will leave as soon as they arrive,” he assured me. Enrico led me to the boat and I took a seat near the stern. It was a charter fishing boat and lacked any real comforts but it was only ninety miles or so to Florida.
“I will go to wait with Marco,” Enrico told me. I was nervous but not for myself. I was worried about Marco and until he was on the boat and we had departed I couldn’t relax. Only a little while more.
“Thank you,” I said but as soon as I had, Marco began shouting.
“Salir, salir!” he yelled. Enrico went to the side and then turned to the passengers and told them to get down in Spanish. I rose and pushed my way to the rail on the opposite side from the dock. Two cars skid to a stop as Marco ran towards the boat but before he could get to the dock, men emerged from the cars and shouted for him to stop. Marco didn’t halt immediately but when the men fired their guns into the air, Marco stopped just short of the dock.
“Marco!” I yelled as the boat’s engines roared to life. Enrico hesitated to order the boat to leave but Marco told him to go.
“Tell Nancy that I love her,” Marco shouted. I tried to climb from the boat as it drifted away from the dock but Enrico grabbed me and held me.
“No! Marco! Marco!” I shouted as the boat turned. The men seized Marco and more pointed rifles at the boat and yelled for the captain to stop. The captain shook his head and once he had the room, he turned the boat and threw the throttle
If you enjoy more traditional or historical romances, my novel Havana Curves is a satisfying and exciting story set in 1950s Cuba during the revolution. It features heart-warming romance and exciting action set against one of the most significant events of the late 20 th century. Please enjoy this excerpt:
We had just enough time to maybe share an intimate moment, get our belongings and drive to meet the charter boat to America. However, we never made it to Marco’s home. As we approached the row houses in Marco’s Cadillac, we saw men waiting outside. There was no doubt why they were there. Marco took a side street before they could identify us and we drove away towards the docks. “We will buy clothes in Florida,” he said and squeezed my knee to reassure me.
“What if we’d been home?” I asked but Marco only looked at me. His eyes told me what I suspected already. We’d have been arrested. Marco took us out of Havana, choosing side streets instead of the wide boulevards to avoid being seen. We drove in silence. Every car we passed I was sure would turn and chase us down. I had never wanted to be somewhere else as much as I did right then. When Tony threatened me, it was only I that would suffer. Now Marco would suffer too if we were caught. I couldn’t bear the thought.
Finally, we arrived at the docks after what seemed like hours. The docks served fishermen mostly and the boat Marco had charted seemed far too big next to the small dock. It wasn’t a large boat but it dwarfed the fishing skiffs that would normally use the wooden docks. Many of the other refugees were already there and waiting including Enrico.
“Ah, Marco. I was worried,” Enrico greeted us.
“With good reason, my friend. Castro’s thugs were waiting for us at my home. If we wouldn’t have left to get dinner, we wouldn’t have been able to join you,” Marco explained. Enrico didn’t look surprised.
“I have heard rumors. I am sure I am on their lists too,” Enrico told us.
“We must leave right away,” Marco said.
“Some of the others haven’t arrived,” Enrico told us. Marco looked at his watch. It was nearing midnight.
“We will wait for a little longer. Take Nancy to the boat and I will wait for the stragglers and keep watch,” Marco told Enrico. I looked at Marco, taking his hand and squeezing. “We will leave as soon as they arrive,” he assured me. Enrico led me to the boat and I took a seat near the stern. It was a charter fishing boat and lacked any real comforts but it was only ninety miles or so to Florida.
“I will go to wait with Marco,” Enrico told me. I was nervous but not for myself. I was worried about Marco and until he was on the boat and we had departed I couldn’t relax. Only a little while more.
“Thank you,” I said but as soon as I had, Marco began shouting.
“Salir, salir!” he yelled. Enrico went to the side and then turned to the passengers and told them to get down in Spanish. I rose and pushed my way to the rail on the opposite side from the dock. Two cars skid to a stop as Marco ran towards the boat but before he could get to the dock, men emerged from the cars and shouted for him to stop. Marco didn’t halt immediately but when the men fired their guns into the air, Marco stopped just short of the dock.
“Marco!” I yelled as the boat’s engines roared to life. Enrico hesitated to order the boat to leave but Marco told him to go.
“Tell Nancy that I love her,” Marco shouted. I tried to climb from the boat as it drifted away from the dock but Enrico grabbed me and held me.
“No! Marco! Marco!” I shouted as the boat turned. The men seized Marco and more pointed rifles at the boat and yelled for the captain to stop. The captain shook his head and once he had the room, he turned the boat and threw the throttle
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