Tangerine Morning: Jezzica's Story (Serenity Cove Series)

 

 

                           

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright © Rita Garcia, 2012. All rights reserved

KINDLE EDITION

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

Scripture references are from the following sources:

Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica Inc,
 
®
 Used by permission.

All rights reserved worldwide.

 

Author Bio Image by Joe Garcia

 

Cover and book design by

THE KILLION GROUP

www.thekilliongroupinc.com

 

 

 

Dedication

 

.

For my daughters
~

 

A daughter is a joyful treasure of love,

and more cherished with each passing year.

 

 

I’m thankful to God for His mercy, grace and love.

 

To my dear husband, whose love and encouragement keeps me writing. Love you.

 

To my daughters and grandchildren, this mother and grandmother couldn’t be more blessed.

 

To Marita Thelander, Barista Extraordinaire. Thank you for the names and flavors of the lattes for the Serenity Cove Series. The Chantilly Rose restaurant, located in the Sea Crest Inn, was named for the signature latte created by Marita.

 

Titles by Rita Garcia

 

 

Serenity Cove Series

Kaleidoscope Summer

 

Serenity Cove Novella

Christmas Future

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“But those who hope in the Lord

will renew their strength
.

They will soar on wings like eagles;

they will run and not grow weary,

they will walk and not be faint.”


Isaiah 40:31

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

Jezzica pushed her red polished toes into the grains and tilted her head back to allow the shimmering rays to
bathe her face. She could almost allow herself to forget the horrors of the past, and bask in the hope of better times, but not quite. Revenge intercepted hope and flung it away as if nothing more than a Frisbee being tossed among the waves. With a shake of her head, she pushed herself off the mat, and refused to tolerate the uninvited inner voice taking her down that well-trodden path.

Her towel flapped in the breeze as she shook off the sand. At the sound of her name, she used her book to shield her eyes, and spotted Detective Zack Johnston.
Suppose I have to be polite.
She called hello and waved, wishing he’d go away—no such luck.

He trudged through the sand, smiling as he approached her. “Hi, Jezzica. Nice day to catch some sun.” It was obvious he appreciated more than the sun.

She tied a sarong over her black one-piece that left little to the imagination. “I was just heading back to the cottage. What brings you here today?”
Certainly wasn’t detective work.

A mischievous smile sparkled in his eyes. “Spent the day moving into the Wilson’s cottage. Appears we’re neighbors.”

Okay, definitely not the bright spot in my day.
“Aren’t Audra and Steve Wheeler renting that cottage?”

“They were, but they moved into their newly renovated home this past weekend.”

“Welcome to the shore.” Her eyes held his longer than she’d intended. Without thinking, she placed her hand on her stomach to still the butterflies—the first time she’d reacted to the nearness of a man since her husband’s death. She stepped back, unwilling to betray her guarded memories.

She glanced in the direction of her cottage, surprised by the sight of Catylen kicking off her flip-flops and traipsing toward her. “If you’ll excuse me, my sister is here and I’d like to spend time with her.” Glad for a reason to end their conversation, relief replaced the dancing butterflies.

He nodded. “See you around—being we’re neighbors.”

“Yeah, see you around.” Her eyes followed him as his pace grew to an easy jog along the water’s edge.

“Wow. Now that’s one gorgeous male specimen.” Her sister had a penchant for declaring the obvious as though it were an obscure fact.

“I’m not interested in dating anyone, definitely not a detective.” Her smirk revealed her irritation. “Suppose Mom sent you.”

“Who said anything about dating? And we’re all concerned about you.”

“Where are Mike and the kids?” She untwisted her sarong.

Catylen took a visible deep breath, her grimaced expression filled with anxiety. “The girls are still at college—they’ll be on summer break soon. Mike—” Her words stopped as though she’d thrown on the brakes and swerved to avoid a cat in the road. Jezzica knew her sister well—she didn’t push.

From a distance, the sisters could have been mistaken for twins, even though Catylen was older by eight years and three months. Their chocolate velvet hair was pulled back and large sunglasses covered more than just their brown eyes, the same rich brown as their hair. To most observers, it might have seemed the two sisters were simply out enjoying a delicious summer day. The hurt well hidden, they walked in silence toward the cottage.

The seaside home held many magical memories of childhood summers. Set in a row of similar houses, it bore the telltale wrinkles of age. The blue that once gave it a presence as it overlooked the crashing waves had weathered to gray. The white strips bordering the windowpanes aged to a softer gray. Curiously, the gray on gray gave the cottage a perfect ambience, as though nature had held an opinion about the way it should look—now proven right by the passing of years.

Jezzica climbed the wooden steps and paused to remove her shoes. Catylen mimicked the habit learned early in their childhood, once again kicking off the sandals she had reclaimed before clambering up the stairs.

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