Hook by Laney Kaye

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  • ISBN Digital: 978-1-5092-2464-7

    Page Count: 139

    Word Count: 30716

    Rated: 2 Roses

    The Lure of the Mer Book One

    Marine biologist, Jayde Collins, has a love affair with the ocean. Lucky for her, because lately, swimming is the only way she can get wet without investing heavily in rechargeable batteries. While out diving, she's caught by the crew of a trawler, beaten, and dumped as shark bait. Rescued and magically healed by a hot lifeguard, she's not sure if she's dreaming, but with the erotic fantasy he offers—sex with two men—she's not sure she wants to wake up.

    Trent Okeanós leads an elite group of Australian lifeguards who hide a secret; they are the last of the Mer. His law forbids sex with humans unless another Mer joins them, but when he saves Jayde, he's unprepared for the jealousy warring within him. Yet if he dares let his lust turn to love, Jayde will be bonded to him for life and he'll be stripped of immortality.


    “Jayde, you do remember what I told you earlier?”

    “Which bit in particular?”

    He ducked his head beneath the water, then shoved both hands back through his hair to force it from his face. “About me being Mer.”

    Doubt raced through her. Why had she believed him so easily? He’d shown her nothing to evidence the absurd claim. A bed filled with sand and a house that looked like it was made of rock tunnels but could surely be fiberglass was hardly proof of anything but a weird design flair. Even the opulent shower, completely at odds with the minimalism of the bedchamber, with floor and walls glistening with mother-of-pearl inlay, proved nothing except extravagance and maybe a certain degree of wealth.

    Trent nodded solemnly, as though he read her thoughts. Held up one hand. One huge hand. Despite his size, both his hands and feet were large, elegantly shaped. Big hands, big feet. In her experience—oh, okay, according to what she’d read, because she had stuff-all experience—large hands and feet supposedly indicated the size of certain other appendages.

    Trent chuckled. “Yes. They do.”

    Before she could respond, he spread his fingers. Then he shook his wrist. Fine mesh appeared between each finger, thin and transparent, like the most delicate Irukandji jellyfish.

    The breath huffed from her in sudden realization. “Oh my God, that stuff makes your hands work like flippers, right? That’s how you were swimming so fast?” He wasn’t lying, and she wasn’t crazy. He was a god, a beautiful, sea-dwelling god.


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