: Lizbeth Dusseau 2017-06-28
: The Marquis' Book of Pleasure& Property of the Marquis
: Pink Flamingo Media
: 9781938897528
: 1
: CHF 5.90
:
: Erzählende Literatur
: English
: 195
: kein Kopierschutz
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB
Shipwrecked on Marquis Island, three couples are drawn to an aging estate house. Its caretaker tells them the bizarre history of the island, then presents them with The Marquis' Book of Pleasure a unique book that none of them can put down.

Chapter One

The thirty-foot boat rocked on an unseen, unwieldy sea, water splashing over the sides, the craft groaning as though any moment it would break apart. The moon, shrouded for hours by a clamoring sky, tried peeking from its hiding place behind the clouds, but it was repeatedly blackened by the night, sinking the tiny ship into a darkness penetrated only by the light of one bobbing lantern.

“What the hell are we going to do now!” Laney Priestly’s scared voice screamed as the bobbing boat jostled in the waves, knocking her from her feet while she grabbed for a rope at the side of the boat.

“Dammit, Laney, if you’re going to complain, get below deck,” Erik scolded his wife with his reply.

“Don’t swear at me,” she got up sparring.

“And don’t act like such a girl!” Eyes fired, expression determined, it was enough to make Laney shrivel and retreat below where Sandra and Elise were already hibernating. Closing the cabin door, she closed out the sounds of the howling wind and the three men still arguing with the sea, the wind and the cold storm.

“Are we going to survive?” Elise asked, as she huddled under a blanket in the corner, looking like a wet mouse, her two eyes, shiny and startled, her mouth capturing the tiny stream of water dripping from her bangs. Her long bedraggled braid looked like a black sinewy tail plastered to her white skin.

“Hell, I don’t know!” Laney sighed as she slumped next to Sandra on the couch, and grabbed the old wool blanket to share.

“It’s an adventure,” the blond-haired woman reminded her ruefully as she tugged the blanket back.

“And we let them talk us into this over Jamaica. Never again,” Laney shook the water from her short dark hair, and grabbing for another blanket tried toweling it dry.

“You suppose we’ll find the island?” Elise asked.

“In this storm? It would be a miracle. There are dozens of uncharted islands in this chain. Right now, I’d take any of them just to feel my feet on dry land again.”

The boat rocked, taking another nasty dip toward the water and the three women held their breaths. Best friends since college,