Since I can’t serve Margaritas or Sangria on this holiday weekend, here’s my summer sizzler that features a Hispanic love
interest, “Cuban Fire.” This is book number 4 in my series called “Key West
Heat,” but the stories aren’t connected by characters or plot. It’s a
lightweight romantic comedy, similar in tone to what you’d see in a rom-com but
with adult situations. You know the premise—a guy meets a girl in an exotic
place, he isn’t sure if she’s really interested in him at first but finds out
she is, and hot animalistic mating ensues.
“Take one newspaper writer who goes to Key West for an
assignment, add a cute Cuban vixen looking for a good time, stir carefully with
a Key Lime twist and let the beach party begin. Brad didn’t know what to expect
when Chiquita set her sights on him at the bar, but he certainly didn’t think
she’d change his cynical outlook on life. The free-spirited pixie with a
natural flair for hustling opens his eyes to a different world, but can he
adapt to her laidback, carefree lifestyle? Is there a future beyond the sunset?”
Brad took another sip, then nearly choked when he felt
a splash of water from behind. He turned around in time to see a young woman
climb onto the stool next to his. Brad automatically glanced over her frame,
clad in a string bikini with a floral print. She looked to be about five-two
and slender, with skin the color of café au lait and sun-bleached blonde hair
with light brown streaks, cut into a shag style that covered her ears. Her
figure was so petite that handle-with-care was the first thing that came to
mind, while a posture that said don't-mess-with-me was the second.
She looked at him and offered a shy smile. “Sorry,”
she said in a thick Spanish accent. “Didn’t mean to get you wet.”
Brad recovered from his initial shock and smiled. “No
problem. I was getting too hot anyway. It actually felt good.”
The young woman giggled, making a pleasant sound, not
nasal or forced. “You mind if I sit here?”
“Not at all.” He hesitated for a moment to summon his
courage. “Would you care for a drink?”
She released a deep breath. “Yeah, that’d be nice.
Whatever you’re havin’.”
Brad signaled for the bartender and ordered her drink
plus a refill for himself. When they arrived, she took a long sip.
“Gracias,” she said. “You not from ‘round here,
are you?”
“How can you tell?”
She gestured at his torso. “Not enough tan.”
He laughed. “Looks like you got me. I’m from up
north.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Atlanta?”
“Further north than that. I’m from Ohio.”
Her face scrunched in confusion. “Not sure where that
is.”
Brad eyed her for a moment. “I’m guessing you’re not
from around here either.”
She shook her head. “Havana. Came here few years ago.
What you do in this Ohio place?”
“Whatever it takes to survive. What do you do here?”
“Waitress at the Palm Garden. You ever been there?”
“No. Is it any good?”
She shrugged. “Not bad. Tourists sure like it,
‘specially the ones who come from the cruise ships. What’s your name?”
“Brad. What’s yours?”
“Chiquita, like the banana.”
He looked her over again. I’d like to see what she
could do with a banana. “Pretty name. Are you staying here?”
She shook her head again. “I live in Olde Towne. This
is my day off.”
“I thought the pool was just for hotel guests.”
She leaned in close and lowered her voice. “Supposed
to be, but the bartender’s a friend. He looks the other way when I sneak in.
You not gonna bust me, are you?”
Brad laughed. “What fun would that be?”
She laughed with him. “I can think of things that
would be whole lot more fun.”
You can find “Cuban Fire” at the links below. Happy
reading!
"Cuban Fire"--Amazon Kindle; Smashwords
Tim Smith is an award-winning, bestselling author of
romantic mystery/thrillers and contemporary erotic romance. His website is AllAuthor.com
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