Tortured Hero Blog Hop

If you’re looking for the Tortured Hero Blog Hop then you have found it!

My hero Seth in Windswept Shores is torture by his past. He’s running away from his manipulative parents and wants none of their plans for him and his future.


Seth strolled back out with a photo album which he set down on the small dining table. Megan turned off the stove and set the pot on a folded tea towel to cool. She walked over, wiping her hands on another one she used as an apron.

Megz, here’s the photos that’ll say what’s what.” He opened the album. “This is my dad.”

“He’s in a suit?” she asked, realizing that it looked expensive.

“My da’s a businessman, though he used to mine opals, and that’s my mum.”

“Can you get rich mining opals?” she asked, noting the smart clothes.

He frowned out the window, but didn’t say anything a moment.

Megan rubbed his shoulders. “Seth, what are you not telling me?”

Megz… I not sure…”

She slid into the opposite seat. “What is it?” Megan studied his apprehensive expression. “Is it bad?”

Naw, blokes just have a bad reaction at the news.” He paused for a moment longer and took a deep breath. “Usually, they put the bite on me when I tell ‘emme da isa bloody rich man.”

“Good heavens.” She stared at the man she thought she knew while she tried to reconcile this fun, hard loving, sometimes badly dressed guy who was also a rich man’s son. “So, that’s how your parents were able to send you to college in the states?”

“My parents wanted me to go to Yale, but I reckoned on Cal State Long Beach because of the surfing. They were just glad I was going.”

“My son Josh goes there.”

“Maybe I ran into him?”

“Two years ago was his freshman year. Josh Lorry, tall skinny with wavy black hair?”

“Hmm, naw, rings no bells.” He turned the page to a photo of three well dressed, brown-headed boys. “These are my two older brothers, but they died in a car crash when I was younger. So, I’m an only child now. My parents wanted me to step into my eldest brother’s shoes.”

“Oh?” Megan studied his unhappy expression. “Did they pressure you?”

“Blimey, Megz, you do ask questions.” He leaned back in the seat, frowning. “Oy they did. Da wants me to take over the company someday. Mum wanted me to be successful at something’. I just wanted a good time. I got married young, divorced, went to Uni, but then took off during spring break. I reckon I ran from it all.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your brothers. But you can’t run from your responsibilities, darling. Sooner or later, it will catch up to you. Are both your parents still alive?”

“Last time I looked.” He smirked. “They’ll have to hunt me down to this here island if they want me back.”


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Void were prohibitive.

Easter Blog Hop Tour: Inspirations for Windswept Shores


My name is Janice Seagraves.

If you were looking for the Easter blog hop tour then you’ve come to the right place.

***Leave a comment with your email for a chance to win a free download of my depute book, Windswept Shores.***

In my book, Windswept Shores, I used a deserted island in the Bahamas to set the scene for my couple. I did a lot of research to describe it accurately. The island and the weather itself became almost a secondary character.

As for the rest of their adventures, I relied heavily on my own background to fill it in.

You see my dad loved to fish.

I mean he really loved to fish. This photo was taken back in the day when there was no limit on fish caught in a lake.

I think these fish were caught in ExchequerCA.

The little girl in this photo is me, admiring my dad’s catch (I loved my daddy).

My dad fished all year round. But Easter week was the time for our little family to go on the first camping trip of the year.

On the Friday, the last day of school before Easter break, dad and mom would load up our car or truck (if we had one that year) and he’d hook up his boat (dad always had a fishing boat ), then dad would take us all camping.

We never knew where he’d take us. It could be someplace new or maybe an old favorite like Don Pedro Lake, but wherever it was it would be a place where he’d probably heard the fishing was really good. He’d also talked to fishermen to find out what the fish were hitting that season, since it did seem to change from year to year or season to season.

Dad's lure

Dad also made his own lures, but he didn’t limit himself to their use. He had a big tackle box full of lures and, well, tackle. He also raised red worms and at one time he raised minnows too.

My dad caught so many fish that my mom, in self-defense, had to learn to cook them and got really good at fish frying . We ate so much fish that I thought I’d grow gills, lol.

Most of Windswept Shores revolves around my hero and heroine basically camping out on the beach. Which I got from my dad taking us camping and we camp along the shores of various lakes as I grew up. I was nearly born at a lake. My mom was very late in her pregnancy with me when he wanted to go fish and camping. My mom said no, but my dad was persistent. Luckily my mom won that argument.

My father’s gone now, he passed away in 1982 from colon cancer. I still miss him, but as a salute to my dad, I made, Seth, the Aussie hero in my story to be something of a fisherman. He’s also the first mate on the Dinki-Di before it got reefed.

BTW, dinki-di means true blue, as in my dad was a true blue fisherman, and my dad’s favorite color was blue. 🙂


Seth gestured to the boat. “I’ll prop the boat up a bit, then I’ll do it there. She’s got all the comforts of home on-board her. Even a generator so we can have the electrical going.”

“She?” Megan blinked up at him. “You’re referring to the boat as a female?”

“All boats are sheilas,” he told her. “That one there is the Dinki-Di.”

“Isn’t that an Aussie term?” she asked, wrinkling up her brow.

“It means ‘true blue.’”

“Oh-okay.” Every time I think I get a handle on his slang, he throws me a new one. Her gaze went to the white boat which had just a little light-blue on the trim. “True blue, but it’s not even blue?”

“It’s just an expression, luv. Like I’m a dinki-di, Aussie,” he said, pointing to himself.

“Okay, so it means the real deal?”

“That it does, mate.”


I also gave Seth my dad’s dimples and my mom’s gray eyes. Mom is still with us though. 🙂

Excerpt, when Megan meets Seth:

She patted the side of his face. “Hey, are you okay?” That’s a dumb question. He isn’t okay.

“Hmm?” Gray eyes fluttered open. He stared at her a long moment, frowning slightly. “G’day.”

“Hello there.” She hated the sound of her voice. It sounded rusty, unused.

Abruptly he rolled away from her to heave onto the sand, making a loud, ugly retching noise.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then looked at her. “Sorry, mate, I swallowed too much sea.” His gaze went over her shoulder in the direction of the bonfire which crackled and popped not far from them. “Mite big for a barbie.”

Sitting back on her heels with her hands folded in her lap, Megan followed his gaze, then back to him. “My signal fire.”

“Signal for what?”


His accent intrigued her. Was he English or Australian?

“G’darn,” he looked around, “where the bloody hell am I?”

“Don’t know. There’s no one here to ask.” Megan shrugged helplessly, but couldn’t contain her curiosity. “Are you from England?”

“Naw,” he rubbed his eyes, “I hail from Sidney, but my port of call these days is Fort Lauderdale.” He blinked up at her. “You?”

Ah, he’s an Aussie. “I’m Megan Lorry, from Anaheim, California,” she said, barely loud enough to be heard above the sounds of the surf and the roar from the fire. “Are you a survivor of Air Bahamas flight 227, too?”

“G’day, Megz,” he answered, struggling to sit-up. “Sorry, I’m not from your plane.”

Megan slipped an arm around him lifting his back off the sand. Turning his head to her hair, he took in a couple of short breaths. Megan pulled back staring at him. “What the—did you just sniff me?”

“Ya smell too good not to.” He grinned, causing his cheeks to dimple. “Name’s Seth Dawson.” Leaning back on one arm, he stretched out his hand to her. She clasped it as if it was just a friendly greeting between strangers back home.


Here’s an excerpt just after Seth caught a fish:

Megan wrapped her arms around his neck. Their gazes met, turning intense. She felt like she could drown in his warm gray eyes. He leaned in and pressed his full lips against hers. The kiss tingled, going right through her, making something lower down tighten and beg for attention.

He pulled back. “Miss me?”

Speechless, Megan nodded.

He set her down. “Look what I caught for our tea.” He threw open a built-in chest, pointing to a two foot long fish. “It’s called a Tarpon. They get a mite bigger. This one’s an ankle biter. Can you get a good fire going so we can barbie this wee fishy?”

“Sure, I can try, but the weather isn’t cooperating very much.”

“Do what ya can, then we’ll eat onboard the DinkiDi.” He tossed her a lighter.

She caught it. “Okay, but I’ll need a boost to get back up.” She pointed to her campsite.

Scooping her up, he gave her a toss. Megan landed neatly on her feet next to the tree.

Giving him a startled glance over her shoulder, she said, “Are you going to do anymore amazing feats today, Mr. Seth?”

“I’m saving ‘em for later.” He smirked. “And it’s Mr. Dawson.”

“There isn’t anything dull about you,” Megan said without thought.

“Don’t say that yet, luv. It takes away from the expectations.”

“Expectations of what?”

“Show ya later.” He grinned devilishly, showing every tooth in his head.

“I had to open my big mouth,” she muttered. He’s back to flirting. But she found she had missed that, too.


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