A Sailor's Love

Here is the opening page from my erotic ghost romance “A Sailor’s Love.”
https://www.draft2digital.com/book/34522

Jannine cried into her pillow, “Not again, not now, why me?”
The loss of her lover, Helmut, came back to haunt her every night. He had been lost in the caves below the old house. Her previous lover, a fisherman named Ian, had been lost at sea. She believed lightning never struck twice in the same place but she lost two lovers to the sea.
The story began several years ago, when a stranger entered “The Lobster Pot,” a small inn at Bartlebay. He wasn’t tall and handsome but he carried with him a sense of being. The man had a way about him which made you wish to learn more about his life.
The bar of “The Lobster Pot” began to fill up. The smoky atmosphere to which the many pipes of the sailors contributed made a heady feeling as Helmut entered the inn. Most of the men in the inn at this hour were fishermen. The office folk shunned “The Lobster Pot.” The office folks considered being seen near ‘The Pot’ beneath them. Big money passed hands in the village’s main pubs and bars. While in the dockside inn the talk remained mundane and down to earth.
The rain-lashed figure of Helmut Charbrier entered the inn and all eyes turned to the stranger. He was definitely new to the area and this made the regulars uneasy. Helmut took no notice. He walked to the bar, with a smile which shone through to the window of his soul. After viewing the drinks he said, “Can I have a pint of bitter please?”
Strangers are viewed as intruders in Bartlebay. Here was a tightly knit fishing community. Everybody who went to ‘The Pot’ knew everybody else and viewed strangers with contempt.
Young Jannine was only just old enough to be a barmaid. She found herself taken in by the stranger’s lack of concern for opinions of others. His strange tonal range intrigued her as she said. “We get a lot of Poles and Russians around here, and even a few Scandinavians. I’ve never heard your accent before and I am good at detecting accents.”

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