Today I am excited to bring you an excerpt from the mermaid themed short story collection ‘Saltwater Souls.’ The excerpt is from ‘The Lightkeeper’ the first story in the collection. The eBook of Saltwater Souls is currently on sale in the US for .99 and $1.55 in AU so now is the perfect opportunity to grab a copy!

About Saltwater Souls:

You can take the woman out of the ocean, but can you take the ocean out of the woman?

A lightkeeper fights to live up to her father’s legacy.

Two heartbroken sisters desperately cling to their mother’s memory.

A mer-child is determined to free captive mermaids from their prison.

A mermaid must battle a curse to save her new friend.

Sirens avenge the souls of murdered children.

A young woman’s life is upended when she rescues a mermaid’s baby.

Journey alongside heroines searching for their place in this world . . . even if it means embracing the wildness of the sea and the saltwater in their souls.

And now for the excerpt. Enjoy!

The Lightkeeper

The lighthouse beam swept around the inky sea as Pennie stared out the window at the rain. Steam wafted up from her recently poured tea, and the faint scent of cinnamon drifted throughout the tiny sitting room of her lighthouse home. 

The white curtains on the window were parted to reveal the spectacle outside; lightning illuminated the tumultuous waves and thunder rattled the house. But Pennie stayed cozy on her leather chair, a blanket bundled around her while the fire in the hearth warmed the room. Her book lay open on her lap, and the words beckoned her back into their deep world. But she could almost hear a tiny voice in her ear, like a ghost whispering beside her, “We will stay alert and protect people, Pennie. We must be selfless during storms.”

For years, that motto had sent her into fits—especially during the worst of the hurricanes common to this area. She hated being selfless. She loathed forcing her body to stay awake when she wanted to sleep. How dare her father try to force his lifestyle on her when she simply did not fit into his world—in more ways than one. And selflessness had gotten him nothing more than a grave in Davy Jones’s locker.

She swallowed a large gulp of tea, like that would somehow assuage her prickly spirit. She couldn’t think that way anymore. Siren Pennie abhorred selflessness, not Human Pennie. Human Pennie wanted to be as kind and good as her father. Live up to his legacy. She valued human life and would sacrifice her own if it came down to it.

And yet, the siren inside her seethed at the very thought of giving up her wants and desires for someone else—let alone throwing away her life for them. 

She tucked a strand of ashy brown hair behind a pointed ear and watched the waves outside batter the rocks. The storm was strong, but hopefully not a prelude to a hurricane. A hurricane . . .  Her shoulders tensed, and, of their own volition, her eyes flicked toward the hallway and the door beyond she always kept locked. But she couldn’t allow her imagination to dwell on that door, on the reminder of everything she’d lost. She flexed her toes to try to ground herself in the present and not dwell on past storms. Another sip of tea did nothing to calm her gnawing thoughts, though, so she rested the cup on the end table beside her. 

It was absolutely ridiculous to be afraid of storms, because saltwater flowed through her veins on both sides of her family. Her mother’s ancestors had killed unsuspecting sailors; her father’s side fought to save them. 

How had her mother done it? How had she overcome her full-blooded siren nature enough to love a human man and birth his mongrel child, even at the cost of her own life?

Twelve melancholic notes echoed from the grandfather clock in the front room. The lighthouse beam swept over the ocean once more.

And then she saw it. 

Oh, saints below. A ship. A clipper with shredded sails, useless in the fight against the churning riptides. A fire blazed on the deck, spreading quickly despite the rain. 

What imbecilic captain would have led his crew into such danger? Did he think he was above the ocean’s fury, immune to its terrible power? Then let water fill their lungs and drown them, an adequate sacrifice for the waves—

No, stop. She wasn’t supposed to wish for death. Shame made her cheeks flame, though no one had access to her private, wicked thoughts. 

Just like the storm inside Pennie, the waters outside Stone Point Lighthouse roiled. Here, the waves lashed out unpredictably and nor’easters blew up out of nowhere to sweep sailors, no matter how skilled, away from their course. The sea loved to shatter the bones of men and boats against rocks, and the sirens rejoiced in this.

But Pennie would not.

She tossed her shawl off her shoulders and darted for the door. Wind and rain splattered against her skin, whipping her hair around her face and fighting her attempts to close the door. It took two passes of the lighthouse beacon—not to mention several swears she’d picked up from sailors—before the door latched.

“And stay there,” she muttered before she turned to hasten down the cobblestone steps which led down to an old wooden dock. Out on the stormy seas, the sweep of the lighthouse beacon illuminated the narrative before her in flashes. 

Several lifeboats had already left the boat, but one lingered close to the doomed ship. A man limped across the deck, another man lying limp across his shoulders. The fire lit their silhouettes as the conscious man struggled forward, almost to safety.

The conscious man latched onto a rope ladder. Descended. 

The mast creaked dangerously above them.

Pennie clenched her skirt in her fist. The wind pummeled her with enough force to knock her off her feet, but she steadied herself and refused to blink. Refused to take her eyes off the men. 

Die, Siren Pennie whispered.

No. Don’t. Her human side felt panicked, urgently clawing at the wicked thought of the siren in her soul.

Become a sacrifice to the waves.

Stay alive.

And it was that sentiment that won out in the end. Pennie bit her lip as the siren within her sulked like a child. She could feel its rage building, its desperation to be let out. But she would keep herself contained. She conjured a picture of her father’s face—his tan, weathered skin; his blue eyes and wide smile—to help her, and her breaths came more easily. When she was a child, his presence had soothed her nightmares. Now, only his presence could soothe the nightmare of her own being.

The first man stepped foot in the lifeboat, yelling. Pennie’s pointed ears twitched as she focused her acute sense of hearing on their words. 

“Take him! Look at his leg. Someone bandage him before he bleeds out!” the man bellowed. The sailors in the lifeboat leaped to follow his commands—he must have held power among the crew. The captain, perhaps? “Everyone’s here, then?”

Pennie exhaled slowly. Everyone had survived. Everyone was on the lifeboat—

“I can’t find Oliver, Captain!” another man cried. “He’s supposed to be on our boat!”

The captain glanced over his shoulder to the burning ship.

“Don’t you do it,” Pennie warned. “Don’t you go back. He could be on a different lifeboat. Don’t risk your life when you may not even need to.”

“I’ll check,” the captain yelled over the storm. “If the boat starts to sink, you go on. Don’t get trapped in the undertow.”

“But—” 

“That’s an order, Turner! From your captain.” With that, the captain jumped back onto the ladder and returned to the smoke and flames of a dying ship.  

Son of a barnacle. Did all humans have to toss their lives away so easily?

This captain reminded her so much of her father, so eager to sacrifice himself like he was nothing. Neither one of them should have ventured out in the stormy weather; it was suicidal. During that hurricane years ago, she’d begged her father not to leave, but he’d insisted. “Lightkeepers are called to protect others. It’s our job. If I don’t go, Pennie, who will? You? You could. It’d be safer for you.” 

He’d given her the choice. Thrown down the proverbial gauntlet for her to use her siren nature for good. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it—and when it became apparent he would leave in her stead, she’d done her best to save him the only way she knew. “Who cares about them?” she’d yelled in all her siren fury, in all her human fear. “It’s too dangerous. They’re already doomed; we shouldn’t throw our lot in with them. Stop trying to be the hero. Don’t go!” 

She recalled the disappointment in his eyes before he marched off to his doom and left her an orphan.

Thirteen was far too young to lose the only person she loved.

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