Three Star Island by Kat Caulberg Book Tour and Giveaway :)
Three
Star Island
by
Kat Caulberg
Genre:
Historical Time Travel Romance
Stepping
through a time portal into 1716, historian Penny Saunders didn't
expect to get stranded in the past. Five years later, now a pariah to
the townsfolk of Three Star Island, she endures solitude and ridicule
until a hurricane tosses a dangerous castaway onto her
shores.
William
Payne's history precedes him. Pirate, outlaw, and ruthless captain,
he's a monster among men . . . or so it seems. Desperately seeking
redemption for his blood-soaked past, he upends Penny's world by
showing her a passion she's never experienced.
But
time is closing in on them; the governor of the Carolinas has
rescinded his pirates' pardon, the locals are growing suspicious of
Penny's new houseguest, and she can't keep her secrets from William
forever. When everything falls apart, she must use both wits and
weapons against lawmen and pirates alike to save the one man who
would tear down the world for her.
Penelope
stood in the crater the time portal had sliced into the tree line.
Sheared-off branches sprouted new growth overhead, and grass choked
the scorched ground, concealing most of the sand that had been fused
into glass globules by the rift. Frowning, she dislodged one of the
spheres with the tip of her shoe and kicked it into the dunes. This
gate hadn’t opened in months. Two
days prior, a hurricane had ravaged Three Star. Alone on the southern
tip of the island, Penny had ridden out the storm in her farmhouse
while gales ripped up centuries-old live oaks by their roots and
tossed debris through the walls of her outbuildings. She’d seen a
time gate’s flicker in the immediate aftermath half a mile from
where she now stood on the beach, but there had been no reason to
dash out into the dwindling rain in hopes of reaching it before it
shut. None
of them would let her go home again. Grasping
her skirts in one hand, she made her way through the oat grass to
ascertain what the storm had offered her in compensation. The summer
of 1721 had been a blistering one, providing scarcely any rain to
offset the heat. With few thunderstorms of much note, ships in the
area had enjoyed a season of calm, returning to port with full holds
and happy sailors, and Penny’s larder suffered for it. Without
wreckage to pick through, she’d survived on meager rations from her
garden and the bones of a sloop that ran aground on the shoals to the
south. Yesterday
threw one more long, hard bout of rain at the island, keeping her
inside until dusk. Now, with the sun a few hours into the sky, she
hurried to collect her share of the shattered remains of dead men’s
fortunes. This time, she was determined it wouldn’t bother her. She
tucked a short strand of hair behind her ear, knuckled her glasses
higher, and proceeded to the shore. The
sea mirrored the heavens, flat and tranquil. Whitecaps lapped the
sand, pulling back to reveal a stripe of broken shells stretching as
far as she could see. Currents funneled past the rock barrier jutting
out into the water, and a smattering of planks and splintered crates
gathered on the sand bars the rising tide would soon submerge.
Penny stooped to dip her fingers into a mountain of sea foam. Lacework-white and delicate, it dissolved at her touch. A flicker of movement caught her eye. Slanting toward the beach on a downdraft, a laughing gull shrieked its peculiar, broken cry and swooped over a figure lying in the surf. Her stomach dropped. The waves had disgorged a body. Straightening, she fidgeted with her apron strings. The tide was rising. Soon, the ocean would reclaim the life it had taken, leaving no trace of the drowned man behind. Here, he was alone and unknown. Somewhere else, however, he would be an empty seat at a hearth, a bed half-filled, a promise unkept. Like her, he could never go home again. Penelope sighed. Unable to bury him, she could at least bear witness to his return to the sea. Keeping close to the water, she trudged toward him. She stopped when his arm moved. It was a tiny motion she could’ve mistaken for a trick of the wind, his sleeve toyed with by the breeze, yet when his fist clenched the sand, she was certain. He was alive. “Son of a . . .”
Penny stooped to dip her fingers into a mountain of sea foam. Lacework-white and delicate, it dissolved at her touch. A flicker of movement caught her eye. Slanting toward the beach on a downdraft, a laughing gull shrieked its peculiar, broken cry and swooped over a figure lying in the surf. Her stomach dropped. The waves had disgorged a body. Straightening, she fidgeted with her apron strings. The tide was rising. Soon, the ocean would reclaim the life it had taken, leaving no trace of the drowned man behind. Here, he was alone and unknown. Somewhere else, however, he would be an empty seat at a hearth, a bed half-filled, a promise unkept. Like her, he could never go home again. Penelope sighed. Unable to bury him, she could at least bear witness to his return to the sea. Keeping close to the water, she trudged toward him. She stopped when his arm moved. It was a tiny motion she could’ve mistaken for a trick of the wind, his sleeve toyed with by the breeze, yet when his fist clenched the sand, she was certain. He was alive. “Son of a . . .”
For as long as she can remember, Kat Caulberg has been obsessed with history and the paranormal. Somewhat to the dismay of her parents, her interests led her into both museums and graveyards as a child, a trend which has continued into her adulthood. This has influenced her reading tastes and her writing, whether it be a good ghost story, thrilling tales of time-travel, or devouring endless volumes of ancient warfare.
She signed a contract with Soul Mate
Publishing in 2018 for her first novel, Three Star Island, a
time-travel story set in 1721. She enjoys writing strong, quirky
heroines, and has a weakness for cheeky heroes who have as much
compassion as they have flaws.
Kat currently lives in North
Carolina with her Englishman and a few cats.
Follow
the tour HERE
for exclusive content and a giveaway!
Comments
Post a Comment