Last month, I featured my newest summer read in the
Key West Heat series, “Cuban Fire.” Today I’m going retro by revisiting the
first story in that series, “The Last Sunset” (2017, eXtasy Books).
“Tess Carter went to Key West after being abandoned at
the altar, intending to let herself be washed out to sea. Her attempt at ending
it all is thwarted by a rugged beachcomber she encounters who has a unique
outlook on life. Is he on the level or hiding something sinister? Will Tess
decide to give life and love another chance?”
When I began this series of shorts, the only constant
I had in mind was that they would all take place in or around Key West. Each
story is self-contained, and so far, there are no recurring characters. That
makes them challenging to write, since I have to develop new personalities with
each installment. Here’s an excerpt from my maiden effort:
Tess Carter stood alone at the rushing water’s edge on
Broken Bottle Beach in Key West, watching the sun make its final descent over
the horizon. A light evening breeze ruffled her long auburn hair as she looked
from side to side, satisfied that she had the beach to herself. She fingered
the engagement ring dangling on a gold chain around her neck, gave it one last
lingering look, then shifted her eyes to the sunset. The sky had changed from
bright blue to a mix of yellow and orange. We always liked looking at these
together. Now you’ll be watching them with someone else, but this will be my
last sunset. She kicked off her sandals and unwrapped her sarong, pulling
it from her lithe frame. She folded it neatly, then set it on her sandals,
followed by her small handbag resting on top.
She faced the ocean naked for a minute, finally wading
into the white foamy surf. She stopped and stared ahead at the sea that
stretched to infinity. The water pulled back to gain strength for another run
at the shore. She took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. I decided this
was the best way, so let’s just do it. She waded tentatively into the
surging surf but stopped when it was up to her knees. She let the warm water
splash against her skin and choked back a sob. Before she could proceed, she
was startled by a gruff male voice that called out from behind her.
“If you really want to kill yourself, I can show you a
half-dozen great ways that are a helluva lot more fun.”
She spun around and gasped when she saw a lone figure
thirty feet away, sitting against the trunk of a palm tree with one leg drawn
up toward his hips, the other stretched in front of him, his hands resting in
his lap. She ran to the shore and gathered up her sarong, holding it
protectively in front of her.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
The man tilted up the brim of his Panama Jack hat and
looked at her. “Last I heard, it was still a public beach.”
Tess quickly put on the sarong and tied it tightly
around her waist. She picked up her sandals and handbag, then began to make a
fast, barefoot retreat along the white sands. She looked at the stranger, but
he didn’t move. She stopped to stare at him for a few moments, then took
cautious steps in his direction. When she was within ten feet, she stopped to
examine him more closely. He was probably in his late thirties or early
forties, but in the dimming light, it was hard to tell. He wore a sleeveless t-shirt
that had once been white with a faded sunset adorning the front, along with a
pair of black cargo shorts and no shoes. His lean, tanned face sported at least
a day’s growth of beard. She found herself involuntarily intrigued and slowly
took a few more steps. He looked at her through slate gray eyes and offered a
small smile.
“Do you... uh... live here on the beach?” she asked.
He laughed. “Not everyone in Key West sleeps in a
hammock beneath the palms. I come here to enjoy the sunsets and the solitude.”
“Are you a native?”
He shook his head while looking at her. “I’m what
you’d call an expatriate northerner who got tired of freezing my ass off every
winter.”
She looked at him for a moment while deciding if she
should stay or run like hell in the opposite direction. The man didn’t make a
move, so she decided to stay. “What’s your name?”
He shrugged. “Mack, Jack, Larry, Moe, Curly—pick one.”
She grinned. “Since you’re wearing a Panama Jack, why
don’t I call you Panama?”
“Better than some of the things I’ve been called. What
would you like me to call you?”
“Tess.”
“Very pretty. I always liked that name.” He gestured
at a nearby stump. “Sit down. I won’t bite.”
Tess hesitated,
then sat. She kept her knees tightly together and her hands folded in her lap,
ready to make a hasty exit. She glanced down. “How did you know...”
“That you wanted to end it all? A couple of things.
For one, you kept hesitating when you hit the water. If you were planning a
sunset skinny-dip, you would’ve dived in. The other was that monument you built
to yourself, leaving your bag on top so someone would find it and know you were
here.”
She raised her gaze. “What makes you such an expert?”
He hesitated while staring into her blue eyes.
“Because I contemplated the same thing myself once.”
“Who stopped you?”
“Me, myself and I. I decided she just wasn’t worth
it.”
This is a lighthearted read, similar in tone to a
Lifetime rom-com. It also has a nice surprise at the end. You can find “The
Last Sunset” at the link below, or anywhere excellent e-books are sold. Happy
reading!
Amazon Kindle
Tim Smith is an award-winning, bestselling author of
romantic mystery/thrillers and contemporary erotic romance. His website is www.timsmithauthor.com.
