Expedition Indigo by Stacy Allen
Riley Cooper Series (Book 1)
Romantic Suspense
Cover Artist: Jess Small
Publisher: Fiery Seas Publishing, LLC
August 18, 2014
Blurb:
Archaeologist Riley Cooper is offered the chance of a lifetime: a chance to find the Crux Fidelis, the coronation cross of Charlemagne. Under Water Sea Adventures members believe they have found the remains of the Indigo, a heavily laden cargo ship commissioned by Charlemagne and presumed lost on its maiden voyage off the coast of southern Italy in the early 800s. If Riley can find the cross, it will prove Charlemagne’s coronation as the First Holy Roman Emperor by Pope Leo III on Christmas Day had not been a spontaneous act, but rather a desperate political maneuver by a Pope in need of protection.
When Riley joins UWSA off the coast of Sorrento, Italy, tensions and tempers fly as a competing team arrives in search of the treasure and an approaching hurricane gains strength and heads straight toward the dive site. And when one of the crew is murdered, Riley must find the strength to fight back and keep the treasure out of the other team’s hands.
About the Author
Stacy’s passion for adventure has taken her to five continents to explore over fifty countries. Stacy also plays guitar and sings, when she isn’t traveling around the world in search of new locales and new stories.
Stacy served on the Board of Trustees of the Pacific Northwest Writers Association, the Pacific Northwest Mystery Writers of America chapter, and currently serves as Vice President of the Southeast Mystery Writers of America (SEMWA) chapter. She is represented by Jill Marr of Sandra Dijkstra Literary Agency. She lives in Georgia with her husband and a very large house cat named Valentino.
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http://www.amazon.com/Expedition-Indigo-Stacy-Allen-ebook/dp/B00LT4PJS4/ref=as_sl_pc_qf_sp_asin_til?tag=fierseaspubl-20&linkCode=w00&linkId=DS7GUCSJJ7QVKK62&creativeASIN=B00LT4PJS4http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/expedition-indigo-stacy-allen/1119952358?ean=9780990475712
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Book Excerpts
In her grandmother’s world, behavior was clear and concise. There was no room for tantrums, self-pity, or melancholy. Period. Grandmother wasn’t interested in hearing reasons or excuses. The reasons were unimportant. Grandmother believed there was never a reasonable excuse for cursing.
She had come home from school one day and was running up the stairs to her room, angrily stomping and talking to herself. Without realizing her grandmother was within earshot, she vented her frustration about losing a competition to another piano student. Grandmother had heard the cursing and called her to task before Riley even made it up the stairs.
“Riley Cooper, you come down here at once. I will not tolerate that language. You have no excuse for expressing yourself with words that are coarse or vulgar. I am not sending you to the best school in Boston to learn how to curse. Ladies do not act that way.”
Riley snapped to attention and turned on the stairs to look down at her grandmother, who was standing in the foyer, glaring up at her. She stood for a moment, trying to think of a better way to express her feelings, since it was clear Grandmother was waiting to hear one. Riley slowly descended the stairs.
The woman had a frightening ability to stare for an unending period of time, with not as much as even one blink. Her eyes were like a double-barrel shotgun. Riley felt like a trapped fawn seconds away from certain death. Her grandmother walked into the parlor and Riley, though frightened, followed.
Riley found her wits and began again, this time in the most controlled tone of voice she could muster. “I apologize, Grandmother. I meant to say… I meant to say that I’m disappointed. I’m disappointed and frustrated. Dawn Beechum won the competition. It’s just because her father is on the board of trustees of the school. It isn’t fair.”
Grandmother’s pencil-thin eyebrows flickered. “Miss Beechum is very talented. You can hear it in her performance. She interacts with her audience. You completely disregard everyone, not even making eye contact or smiling out into the crowd. You play the piano as if you are alone in a faraway tower in some imaginary world. You should have picked a piece that audiences recognize and can relate to, but instead you insisted on choosing an obscure overture, written by an obscure German composer. Your audience does not recognize the piece, so they cannot hum along in their heads. They have no idea where the piece is going or how long you are going to play. They just sit there, waiting for you to finish, enduring the notes without feeling anything.”
Riley seethed inside but knew to keep silent. Since when was Georg Philipp Telemann obscure?
“I will pick out the appropriate piece for you to learn. You will spend this next year perfecting your performance. You will know the piece without even trying. Next year, when the tryouts are held again, you will shine. You will win the audition and you will represent the school. I have to think about what piece would be appropriate. Until then, you will run your scales and work on your other exercises for at least two hours each day.”
“Grandmother, Telemann is—was a magnificent composer.”
“Riley, you will play what I tell you to play.”
And, just like that, it was done. Riley turned to leave the parlor.
“I am not done with you, young lady,” her grandmother snapped.
Riley froze mid-step, then turned back to face her sentence.
“Now, as to your cursing. It is obvious that you are involved with the wrong crowd down at that community center. First you began to use slang and speaking in contractions constantly, which you know I find appalling. Now you are picking up their coarse language. You will resign from that swim team immediately.”
“Resign? Grandmother, please. I can’t resign from the team, especially now. What about Saturday? It’s the regional finals.”
“You will not continue swimming. You will not take even one day off from piano practice until you are chosen next year to represent the school.”
“Grandmother, the team won’t win without me. I have to go Saturday. I’m… I mean, I am the only one who can swim the eight hundred meter fast enough.”
“As of this moment, you are no longer swimming. Saturday or any other day from now on. Your focus is to be on school work and on your piano lessons. You will practice every single day until next year’s try outs.”
“We’re nearly to the final meet of the season, Grandmother. Please let me swim one more time. They need me.”
Her grandmother stood rigid, then took Riley by the shoulders and held her firmly. “I have tolerated this all I am going to. I let you go swimming when you first came here because I thought it could be helpful for you to have a distraction from dealing with Elizabeth’s death, but it has been a year now, and you need to snap out of whatever it is you are going through. Your mother and father are dead. Life is full of disappointment and pain. It is high time you realized that you are living under my roof and by my rules.”
“I know you don’t approve of them, but they are my friends. I can’t let them down,” Riley whispered softly, tears swelling in her blue-gray eyes.
Her grandmother released Riley’s shoulders. “Those young women come from questionable families. I realize it is not their fault that they have not been given adequate supervision. They have never been taught how to behave, but it does not change the fact that their behavior is unacceptable, and now you bring home this type of language? Riley, these friends of yours go to public school. There is no telling what kind of environment they are exposed to there, but their bad influence is rubbing off on you, and I will not tolerate it anymore.” Grandmother waved a bejeweled hand to indicate Riley was dismissed.
There was no point in arguing. Riley retreated, making a conscious effort to walk softly up the stairs. Tears stung the corner of her eyes before she opened her bedroom door, and she sobbed softly as she buried her head in the numerous decorative pillows that covered the top half of her bed.
She wondered what piece of music Grandmother would choose. Something excruciatingly common, no doubt. The level of difficulty wouldn’t intimidate her. It was the idea that Grandmother’s selection would be the same piece that at least half the other contestants would play at their auditions. Riley couldn’t stand to be ordinary.
Excerpt #2
The truck blocking the road finally moved. The driver behind swerved out and around them. Niccolo threw his hands up in annoyance and shoved the van into gear. He drove on, honking when necessary and waving to people he knew.
“How are things going out there on the Pandora? What’s your job? I’m sure it’s something important.”
“I’m a diver. I work, I lift, I repair. I do what I’m told to do,” he said, an edge of boredom to his response. “I’ve been working for Stefano for seven years. Someday he’ll learn I have more to offer.”
The bitter tone in his voice tugged at Riley’s heart. “It must be difficult being the youngest. That’s how I felt at the Vatican. I was just an intern, and I was working for people who had spent years working there. The curators made me feel like I didn’t have enough experience to be of much use. A counselor told me it would teach me humility, and it was all part of being an apprentice. There will always be someone who knows more and who does the job better. Someone to answer to. Someone, regardless of their abilities, will get more respect because they have more experience. Someday your brothers will realize you are not just their baby brother. Someday they’ll see you as a man. Between now and then, have faith in yourself and do the best job you can. Respect yourself, be true to yourself. Decide to excel whether anyone is looking at you or grading you. You’ll know that you’ve done your best. You’re the only one you have to impress. Only you know what you’re truly capable of, Niccolo.”
Niccolo looked at Riley. “Please call me Nikki,” he said, nodding and turning his eyes back to the road. He said nothing more as they continued to Sorrento. He parked, and they removed luggage from the van, two men with dark leathery skin coming to their aid. Riley followed Niccolo and the men, carrying only her tote bag. The two men were telling Niccolo about a fisherman who lost a net full of fish while trying to balance it across the bow of his boat.
The speed boat Stefano promised was waiting at the dock. Riley introduced herself to Roberto as he and Niccolo loaded her luggage. They waved goodbye to the men, and Roberto started the engine, which roared to life. Riley clutched the sides of the boat tightly. Niccolo took over as captain, and if he piloted boats like he drove cars, she expected a vigorous ride across the Bay of Naples.
They whipped across the dark blue water, the cool foam flying up on both sides of the boat and misting Riley’s face. She could see Mt. Vesuvius majestically presiding over Napoli, and in the distance, the island of Capri was nestled in the Azure waters of the Mediterranean.
Her excitement rose as they neared a large blue and white ship twenty minutes later. The boat bounced through the choppy water, and she squinted to read the name in large blue capital letters across the bow. So, this was the Pandora. She had arrived. Her breath caught in her throat as she blinked, but the ship remained, blocking the sun and enveloping them in shade as they came alongside a metal landing at the end of metal stairs that led up to the deck. It became quiet except for the lapping water when Niccolo turned off the small boat’s tiny, raging engine.
“Ciao, ciao. Siamo qui!” Niccolo yelled in a booming voice upward toward the deck of the Pandora.
As the smaller vessel bobbed on the swells, Riley took it all in, breathing in the fresh salt air and feeling anxious. She glanced upward and saw men moving above them on the deck, twenty-five feet off the water.
Niccolo reached out a hand to her, his legs spread wide to maintain his balance in the bobbing boat. He helped her to her feet, pointing with his free hand to step out on the platform and head up the stairs. “I’ll get your bags. All of them.”
Riley hadn’t realized it was going to take such an enormous effort to get her large bags on board, and it embarrassed her.
Niccolo waved her ahead with a warm smile.
“Mille grazie,” she said to him before concentrating on the bottom of the rocking boat and stepping over and around her luggage, gas cans, tools, and coils of ropes. The gas fumes were making her lightheaded. She stood for a moment to judge the distance from the edge of the boat to the landing, then took a brave leap across the abyss and landed firmly on the metal plate. She grabbed the handrail leading up the steep metal stairs and glanced backward at the undulating swells she had jumped across.
How deep is this? she thought as she gazed at the seemingly endless water. Deeper than the SCUBA pool, that was certain. Would she have the nerve to step off into it and sink below?
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