A BOAT MADE OF BONE
BY NICOLE GROTEPAS
New Adult Paranormal Romance/Urban Romance
Amazon | Barnes and Noble
Kate Miller has been having recurring dreams about the same man . . . a dead man. Will Hawke, to be exact, a celebrity who died long before Kate had any reason to pay attention to celebrities.
While the night-world she enjoys with Will beckons, her waking world has suddenly gotten intriguing. Ty Watts--a guy with looks that could set a thousand housewives free--just walked into her life. He's got a smile and a secret that begs to be found out.
But is Ty a distraction or a savior?
Kate's dreams threaten to take over. She must negotiate the edge of reality, solve the mystery of her nightly rendezvous with Will and either set him free or lose herself forever in the seductively dangerous world he inhabits.
A Boat Made of Bone is a love story that spans worlds, generations, and reaches beyond death into the realm of fantasy.
About the Author
Nicole wrote her first fantasy novel in 7th grade on her mother's old Brother typewriter. It was never finished but it strongly resembled a Dragonlance plot and she's forever wondered what happened to the manuscript and Tonathan--the handsome elven protagonist. After living in Nashville where she worked as an editor, she returned to the Utah desert where she was raised. Nicole now lives near the Wasatch mountains with her husband. She writes and raises her son and three cats full time.
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“I’m not real,” he said, smiling at her.
“Hmm?” she answered, kissing his cheek, feeling intoxicated. “I know.”
“Did I come here?” she asked, finishing for him.
He nodded, touching her cheek gently, pulling her close and kissing her deeply. His breath filled her.
“I don’t know. I’m just here,” she said as he pulled away.
“But why? You know I’m not real.”
“Aren’t you? I’m not so sure, Will.” She touched a lock of dark hair that hung across his forehead.
“I’m dead, Kate,” he confessed.
“So you say. But then, why does your touch feel real? Your lips make me feel alive.” She toyed with the sleeve on his shirt, staring into his eyes.
“I’m just part of your imagination. You create me.”
“I don’t care, just kiss me.” She moved to complete her request.
“I’ve been dead a while, you know?” he said, turning his face to dodge her kiss. He grinned playfully. “Quite a while. Just look at these clothes. Would a modern man wear this?” He gestured to his shirt—white with green stitching and the sleeves were long, reaching almost to his elbows. He wore flat-front, pale blue jeans that belled out slightly at his ankles, and a heeled, square-toed boot. He was straight out of the late sixties. He looked up as an idea occurred to him. “What are modern men wearing, anyway?”
She shrugged, taking a step back to study his attire, liking the way he was dressed. “Actually some guys would wear that. To be retro. I like your look. It turns me on.”
“As if that’s hard to do,” he said, laughing.
She moved close to him and slipped her hands under his shirt. His stomach was hard beneath it. She bent to kiss his side. His skin was soft and hot. He sighed, then laughed quietly. “Careful now,” he warned her.
“Why? You said already, you’re not real. This isn’t real. A dream.” She was feeling unusually confident. Perhaps he was right; perhaps it was a dream.
“Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m lying. It could be real.”
“Does this feel like a dream?” She straightened and traced her fingers around his stomach to his back and pulled him tight against her. He grunted and kissed her. His hands came up from her waist, to her shoulder blades, as he returned the embrace.
It had to be a dream. She’d never wanted anyone like she wanted him. His mouth devoured her and she knew that even once she had him, she would still be hungry for more, for him. It would never be enough as fulfilling as it could potentially be.
She knew he was dead. She vaguely remembered the day he died—it was the summer before she started her sophomore year of high school. It was in the news. It was everywhere. Will wasn’t real.
This was her dream.