New Release | Spirit of the Seas by Judy Kentrus #historicalromanticsuspense #historicalromance #romanticsuspense #newrelease #bookboost
- N. N. Light
- Jun 17
- 6 min read
Title Spirit of the Seas
Author Judy Kentrus
Genre Historical Romantic Suspense
Publisher Lady Kay Publishing
Book Blurb
Ross Padgett assumes the captain's role for the first time aboard the steam-powered vessel, the SS Spirit of the Seas. He is determined to navigate his ship in a high-stakes race, competing for a lucrative contract to deliver mail and newspapers from Liverpool to Boston.
Upon arriving in Liverpool, Ross discovers that the race’s victor has already been determined. The odds are stacked against him, yet he sets sail with fierce determination, only to face sabotage and the threat of mutiny. To make things more complicated, a captivating female passenger awakens feelings he thought were long buried after the tragic loss of his wife and son.
Lady Francesca Reina Isobel Delgado has spent the last two years evading the clutches of her ruthless stepfather. Disguised as a commoner, Reina finds solace in caring for horses during the day and captivating audiences with her flamenco dancing at night.
She defies the corrupt cantina owner in a perilous game of deception involving a captivating American. She becomes the target of a deadly scheme when the cantina owner’s son is murdered. Reina must navigate a treacherous world of betrayal and concealed identities while keeping her past hidden from the one man who holds the key to her heart and their future.
Excerpt
SPIRIT OF THE SEAS
Lady Francesca Reina Isobel Delgado
Salcedo, Pontevedra, Spain
May, 1855
Concealed in the dimly lit corner of the raucous cantina, Reina’s heart raced with a mix of anticipation and fear. The atmosphere was volatile, and tempers could flare at any moment. Over the past few months, she had learned that chaos could erupt in the blink of an eye.
She hated la Perez Cantina, yet it was her haven, the sole place where she could conceal and protect her secrets.
She secured the hairpin that held the black lace mantilla draped across her face and concealed her brilliant red wig. Sweat collected under the heavy tresses at the back of her neck. Her feet ached from the overly tight dancing slippers. She had dressed hurriedly and had pulled the laces too tight on her black corset, accentuating her small waist and breasts, making it difficult to breathe.
Marcelo's nimble fingers plucked the strings of his Spanish guitar, producing a brilliant sound that wasn’t loud enough to drown out the crude revelry of the drunkards who frequented the cantina. Her flamenco dancing three nights a week attracted the crowd, making it easier for the owner to fleece los marineros. With the Port of Vigo in Pontevedra just five miles away, stevedores sought a good time and respite with the señoritas.
Her heart ached as she witnessed the two la motza plying the male travelers with rum and ale. Their ruffled blouses were daringly low, and they swayed their hips deliberately, carrying trays filled with tankards of amber brew. Once the hombres were drunk, the chicas would entice the unsuspecting male travelers to their rooms upstairs. The next day, the hombres woke up deathly sick and light in their pockets.
Diego and his son Alejandro lured unsuspecting viajeros into playing the shell game for money. Recently, the owner had been urging her to charm the hombres or entice them to play the shell game. She firmly refused, insisting that Francesca, the flamenco dancer, was only there to dance.
She adjusted the small mirrors attached to the red ruffles of her flamenco dress. The flames from the candles and lanterns reflected off the mirrors, drawing attention away from her body, which swayed to the seductive sound of the Spanish guitar. The gypsies had taught her that the small mirrors sewn into the dress were meant to ward off bad spirits while they danced. Along with dancing, she had also learned the art of fortune-telling. The year she spent traveling with her friends in the gypsy caravan had been life-changing and the best time of her life. Their abrupt parting ended her carefree happiness. She missed them terribly.
She took a deep breath and wrinkled her nose. The air was thick with the foul stench of unwashed bodies and rum, though she was no stranger to unpleasant smells. She had spent the day caring for the horses in the stables, but she knew the roans were much cleaner.
Despite feeling tired, she planned to ride in the moonlight after finishing her dancing, her only taste of freedom. Deep in thought, she stiffened when she caught the sweet sandalwood scent that Alejandro favored. She knew the caballero used the ambergris produced by sperm whales as an aphrodisiac and shared his favors with many señoritas. Not wanting to become a victim of the womanizer’s scent, she avoided him as much as she could.
His white silk shirt was open to his waist, revealing the large gold cross on his hairy chest. The curls at the ends of his handlebar mustache accentuated his upper lip. A good-sized ruby earring pierced his right ear. He wrapped his long fingers around her bare arm, not too lightly, and gave her a lascivious grin.
“My padre wants you to favor the gringo sitting alone at the front table. He’s bien vestido, and his boots alone are worth a gran fortuna. He’s maduro for the shell game. He’s also Americano, and you speak the language.”
Unmoved by his threat, she forcefully pulled her arm free from his tight grip and curled her fingers into a tight fist. "I told your padre I’m only here to dance the Flamenco!”
His dark eyes widened at her defiant refusal, and he took a threatening step closer. She didn’t flinch, demonstrating that his menacing posture didn’t intimidate her.
“La Chica, if you want to keep the monedas they throw at your feet, you’ll do as my padre says!”
All these months, she had kept her true identity a secret. Izzie, the stable hand, had unruly, matted black hair and walked with a limp. She had deliberately rubbed horse manure on her tattered clothes to keep people away. She slept on a bed of straw in the stables and received one meal a day, but the money she earned dancing as Francesca was needed to secure passage on a ship. She would do what he wanted, but in her own way. She was tempted to call him a bastardo, but that might lead to physical punishment.
She put two hands on his chest, shoved him back. “One time! Now, I must dance!”
“Chica, you’re no better than the other la motza. I look forward to sampling your sweet body,” he challenged before stepping back.
Bastardo! I’ll die before I let you touch me.
Curious, she looked over the men eager to enjoy her dancing. Alejandro’s prey stood out boldly among the rowdy crowd. The rich cut of his leather jerkin and the shine of his calf-length leather boots suggested a high social status or noble background. His handsome face was clean-shaven. Fine streaks of gold blended with his earthy brown hair, which curled slightly at the back of his neck. He was making notes in a small leather-bound book with a lead pencil, indicating he could read and write.
She closed her eyes… Another time, another place, Americano.
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Author Biography
Judy is an award-winning author with 42 published novels in the diverse romance genre. Her works cover a range of subgenres, including contemporary romance, romantic suspense, sweet romance, romantic comedies, later-in-life romance, and historical romantic suspense.
When she isn’t immersed in writing captivating tales of love, Judy can often be found in the kitchen, earning her the affectionate title of “Cookie Queen” among family and friends. Each month, she shares her culinary creations by posting a new recipe on her website.
Her novels promise to make you laugh, cry, and ultimately believe in love, providing the perfect escape into a world of romance.
Social Media Links
Website: https://www.judykentrus.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JudyKentrus
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/judykentrus/?hl=en
Threads: https://www.threads.net/@judykentrus
Bluesky: @judykentrus.bsky.social
