House On The Cerulean Sea Novels & Stories

She would not cry. The moment she shut her eyes, the second button on her gown flashed a tiny red light. Inside was a hidden camera. The truth that was buried in the sea would eventually see daylight…

They opened windows. Cleared the smoke. The room smelled of brine and wet ash. They did not relight the fire. They lit candles instead. Placed them in a circle on the rug. Sat inside the circle. Notebook open. Veronica wrote. The sea is coming in. Not through doors. Through memory. Ethan added. It wants something back. They waited. Midnight passed. The house groaned. Long. Low. Timbers moving against each other. Then a new sound.

“I don’t know but we’ll be better prepared for the trip back. Let’s get you inside and maybe into a cool shower?” “Sounds heavenly.” She let him help her up. She lifted her head and got her first real glimpse of the house and her eyes widened incredulously. “Oh wow. Look at this place.” The house was a sparkling white and she could see right through the front door to the back of the house and towards the brilliant turquoise sea. “Amazing right?” Royal asked as he unbuckled Precious. She tore off running in the direction of the house, her little legs pumping fast and furious as she climbed the three stairs and then ran squealing towards the beach.

Robert Blackwell promised to marry me, then postponed it thirty-eight times. The fifth time, a car crash broke eight of his ribs, and I signed seven critical-condition notices. The tenth time, on the way to get our marriage license, he and the car were thrown into the sea, and his suit was torn apart by sharks. By the thirty-eighth time, his heart disease had worsened and his life was hanging by a thread. Eight months pregnant, I changed flights three times and flew twenty-three hours across half the world to find him. When the door opened, a little boy who looked exactly like him lifted his face and said, "I thought Mom was back." Robert rushed out barefoot, panic written all over his

Jade Sunlight danced on the cerulean waves, a glittering symphony that played upon the infinite expanse of the ocean. The horizon stretched beyond the limits of sight, unfettered and wild from the vantage point of my new apartment, a sanctuary perched high above the world's mundane clamor. Life was undeniably sweeter here, each breath imbued with the briny zest of sea air, promising a day unshackled from yesterday's shadows.

After a little more contemplation, she inhaled a deep breath, rolled her shoulders and followed him inside. * * * The interior of the house was just as meticulous as any of Logan’s residences. It was well kept, not a single thing out of place. Other than white walls and random pictures hung on them, large see-through windows occupied the entire place, looking over the vast beach and the ocean beyond. Carmen could even hear the waves rolling up and down the shoreline, the sound of the crickets trickling into her ears.

As long as she focused and listened to my thoughts, she would get the exact score. Then she would crush me in public and secure the Foster inheritance. She slowly closed her eyes and gathered her attention. In the dead silence that followed, Sophie began to hum again, completely out of control. "Darling, hold my hand... "Jet 2 holiday... save 50 pounds per person..." For one instant, the entire venue froze. The crowd before the Harborfront screens froze too. Then the live-stream detonated. [Help! She's doing it again! Classic jet 2 holiday returns!]

And maybe he is, he definitely isn't mine anymore. Let's go back to thirty minutes ago... When we get to Seattle, Robyn has to direct Case because he doesn't know the way to the beach house. Quickly enough, we realize we can't trust Robyn's directions after missing our way twice so we decided to make use of G****e maps, a few minutes later we arrive at the beach house. Just as I expected, the beach house doesn't look like any normal beach house. At least not like what I have seen or imagined. It is huge and looks more like a beach mansion than a beach house.

"Come on. We don't have all day." We followed a hidden trail that was barely visible. The vegetation was so thick the sunlight barely got through. Luca complained about mosquitoes every three steps. I was sweating in places I didn't even know existed. Then, out of nowhere, the brush opened up. And I stopped. The house was white. All white. Made of light wood, with a huge porch that faced straight out to the ocean. Floor-to-ceiling windows that mirrored the blue sky. A curved staircase leading up to a second floor. And in the back, in the yard, a natural pool carved into the rocks, seawater flowing in and out.

I laughed, “We haven’t even gotten our bags yet.” In the blink of an eye, we were on a deserted beach with only a single house on the entire island. The house was beautiful, with an adobe exterior, palm trees surrounding it, and it looked like a Spanish-style home. I asked, “Where are we?” He smiled, “It’s our private island off the coast of Costa Rica. Let’s go to the house and get changed.” We walked into the house and I lost my breath at how beautiful it was. The tiled floor was such a beautiful blue that it looked like we were walking on the ocean. The walls were white, which only served to highlight the gorgeous floors. As we walked through the house, I was blown away by the kitchen whi