The Calling
Authors: Ashley Willis
The Calling
by
Ashley Lynn Willis
The Calling
Copyright © 2011 by Ashley Lynn Willis
First Smashwords Edition: October 2011
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized by, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Excerpt from Love Potions by Michelle McCleod
To my husband who helped me carve out time to write even if that meant making sacrifices of his own. You are my best friend, my most enthusiastic cheerleader, and the hottest man on the planet.
To my two beautiful children for making me laugh every day and for bringing untold joy to my life.
To my brilliant critique partners, Suz, Kathryn, Melisa, and Amy. Without your insight, Justin would have been a cold-blooded killer, and Mandy would have been the whiniest heroine known to romance. I shudder at how differently this book would have turned out without your help.
To Karen of Red Adept Reviews for talking me into writing that last playful love scene, and to my brilliant editor Lynn O’Dell of Red Adept for making sure my participles didn’t dangle.
And last, to my readers for taking a chance on me. I loved every minute of writing this story, and I hope that comes through as you immerse yourself into the world of Mandy and Justin.
You washed upon my shore
Your waves crashing around me
Your green hue sparkling in the sunlight
You engulfed me with your powerful rush
Then calmed me with your stillness
As you lingered all around me
You gently reminded me
With the ebb and flow of your tide
You would never be far from me
The cool breeze flowing along with you
Ran its fingers through my hair
And sent shivers down my spine
I couldn't shake your essence
As each drop you left on my skin
Was a reminder of you
I was afraid to venture in too deep
And lose myself
In your vast presence
But you washed away all my fears
With your tender persistence
And your soft embrace
So I let you take hold of me
Let you wash over me
Let myself drown in your love
—
Jennifer Comeaux
Justin dangled his feet out of the door of the hovering helicopter and prepared for a free-fall deployment. The air above his head pounded to the rhythmic beat of the rotary blades, the thunder of it filling his ears. Beneath him, the waves churned white from the force of a summer squall, the swells striking at one another, their crests exploding with spray.
A wave pummeled the port side of a thirty-foot sailboat, seizing the vessel in its uncompromising grip and swaying it viciously. An hour ago, the vessel’s emergency beacon had activated, sending a distress signal to the Coast Guard’s Rescue Coordination Center. Since the boat hadn’t sunk, the beacon activated when it rolled. Based on the sheared mast dragging against the bow, the vessel had submerged and righted itself more than once.
The helicopter pilot, Lieutenant Dale, spoke through the intercom, “I don’t want you on that boat with the mast unsecured.”
Justin’s jaw clamped tighter than a vise as he readjusted his intercom. He was itchy as hell to get inside that cabin. “I’ll be fine.”
“Foster was almost killed by a loose mast last year.”
“I’m twice as capable as Foster, and you know it.”
“Cocky bastard,” Dale grumbled, but a hint of amusement tinged his voice.
A swell plowed over the boat, sweeping across the deck before slipping back to the boiling ocean. The sea had been churning restlessly for hours, savagely beating any ships that dared cross the colliding weather systems. Large commercial vessels bore the brunt with shivering hulls and seasick crews. The smaller boats, carrying families on day trips or weekend excursions, risked disappearing as if they’d never existed, resting in the mud at the ocean bottom, their occupants still inside. As he watched the sailboat below him, he wondered how long he had until the ocean’s cruel fingers claimed it.
Ty, the flight mechanic, kneeled behind Justin. “Air station just radioed in. There’s a father and son on the boat.”
“How old’s the son?” Justin asked.
“School-aged. That’s all the info they had.”
Justin nodded. “I’m going in.” He’d never left a kid behind, and he wasn’t starting today.
Dale lowered the helicopter until it hovered fifteen feet above the waves. “You got ten minutes. And only because there’s a child on board. After that, I’m pulling you out.”
“That’ll do,” Justin said.
“Keep your eye on that mast,” Ty reminded him over the droning of the chopper.
Justin nodded as he pulled off his helmet, cutting off his communication with the pilot. “Put me in upswell.”
Ty relayed the information to Lieutenant Dale, and the pilot positioned the helicopter so that the waves would push him toward the boat.
“Swimmer’s at the door, sir,” Ty said to Dale.
Ty nudged Justin’s shoulder while wrapping his hand around his microphone. As he lowered his mouth next to Justin’s ear, his lips formed a tight slash. “I brought my camera, in case you decide to do anything freaky.”
Justin peered down into the ocean, then back at his former best friend. “You know how easy it’d be to throw you over right now?”
“You’d just have to fish me out.”
“True. But it’d sure be fun to watch you pitch face-first into a twenty-foot wave. Plus, it’d ruin your camera.”
“You two lovers done quarreling?” Dale yelled.
Ty pinned Justin with a knowing gaze. “Don’t do anything bizarre, and my camera will stay tucked in my pocket.”
“Asshole,” Justin grumbled. Focus. Ty was just messing with his head. As long as he got the civilians out safely, who cared if Ty filmed him?
Ty unwrapped his hand from around his microphone. “Checking swimmer. Swimmer ready?”
Justin gave the thumbs up signal. “Here’s to a good night’s sleep,” he murmured under his breath, while securing his goggles and snorkel. His heart thundered, and his muscles tensed as he waited for the wave below to crest. The mighty swell soared upward, reaching for his fins, and he jumped. Nothing but air, and then the cool waters of the Gulf of Mexico swallowed him whole.
He popped to the surface and held his hand high for Ty to see. The water tossed and pulled his body, washing over him again and again in a rhythm billions of years old. His rapidly beating heart calmed. Even in mountainous waves and pounding rain, he felt at home in the ocean, his muscles relaxing with the water’s caress.
Justin gained his bearings as the swell beneath him rose, giving him a perfect view of the surrounding seas and sky. To his right, the sailboat lurched; to his left, the helicopter increased altitude.
He swam toward the boat reeling in the waves, never taking his eyes off the crippled vessel. A wave crashed against the port side, listing the boat to starboard, the onslaught tilting it further and further into the rough ocean. Like a mighty whale hungry for breath, the bulbous keel broke the surface, licking at the wind and rain.
Though he charged forward, gaining on the ship, his stroke faltered as he prepared to watch the boat roll, maybe for the last time before sinking beneath the ocean. Quickly, the waves parted, and the churning of the water abated long enough for the keel to submerge and the boat to right itself. With a surge of relief, he swam faster, the pummeling sea driving him onward.
