Storms of Passion Read Online Free Page A

email to the author, requesting the next three chapters for preview, was a delight in Vivian’s day. The author was an unknown, but if the story kept the momentum going, Vivian was sure they would have a winner. But she was getting ahead of the game. She would have to wait and see what the next chapters brought.
    As she sat at her computer composing the submission report, she had an urge so strong she acted on the impulse before she could second-guess what she was doing. She typed learn to sail in the search prompt. She wanted the adventure she always read about. Now was the time.
    What am I doing? I can’t just fly off somewhere to learn how to sail. Especially alone. Mother would have a hay day, saying my actions were foolish. Maybe if I were still a kid—still in my twenties. Maybe, hmmm, but I’m going anyway.
    She looked at the manuscript. A piece of the sea, the adventure of being in the open ocean, and a sexy man at the helm. This was the theme she loved in every romance. A theme that would make for an exciting and unusual vacation. Vivian grew more excited with the idea.
    Before she could think too much about a sailing cruise where she would learn how to sail, she went on Expedia booking her flights, hotel, and the boat charter.
    “You did what?” Vivian’s mother screeched in a most unladylike fashion during their family dinner. It was Sunday and her mother had just placed the turkey on the table. Her mother didn’t cook often, but when she did, the meal consisted of one of three dishes—turkey, pot roast, or ham.
    “What are you going on about?” Vivian’s father, Peter, chimed in with his resolute, accountant’s voice. He placed a turkey leg to the side of his plate. “Didn’t you learn anything with Mark? Get your head out of the clouds. My gawd learning to sail, that’s crazy!”
    “Your father’s right. It’s simply not proper for a woman to go off alone. You don’t know what the crew members will be like. In fact, it’s complete foolishness. Cancel the trip.”
    Vivian explained how much she anticipated learning something new. “Geez, can’t you see what a great opportunity this is for me. I don’t want to be that person that grows old watching other people live their exciting lives on TV. I want to be the person having fun.” Vivian cut into her meat, stuffing a chunk in her mouth without tasting it. “As for the crew members, they’re a lovely maritime family who have built ships for generations. They now take tourists out and teach them the ancient art of sailing.”
    “Listen to you. What romantic rubbish,” Peter said in an all-knowing smug way, determined that he knew all and no one could tell him different. He mixed the turkey gravy with his mash potatoes, picking up a scoop-full of the creamy vegetable on his fork. He was poised, ready to place the blend in his mouth when he paused. Waving the heaping fork in gesture, his lips parted in a slight sneer. “You sound like you wrote the ad for them.”
    Vivian loved her family. She had to. Loving her family was a pre-requisite. No matter what, you have to love your family. Do other children feel like me? Like they were plucked from a stork, because I can’t imagine how I came from my parent’s loins. I’m different. Too different. They know and I know, but still try to change me. Why must everything be an argument? Some grand debate?
    “You’ve both made up your mind about this trip without actually listening to a word I say.” Vivian lowered her fork to the side of the china plate, finished with arguing with them and resolute in her decision to proceed whether her parents supported her choice or not.
    “We’re listening,” her mother said with an exaggerated strain in her nasal tones. She dabbed her over-lined lips with her snow-white napkin. Lowering the large cotton square back to her lap, and taking the time to fold the linen just right over her perfectly creased pants, she finally raised her green-melon coloured