Book Title: Blue Moons and Unicorns
Cover Artist: Fiverr
Release Date: April 1,
Genres: Action, LGBTI+
Trope: Friends to lovers
Themes: Personal growth, self confidence
Heat Rating: 4 flames
Length: 122 000 words/ 299
It is the first book of an
intended ongoing series and does not end on a
While holidaying with her friends in the Hamptons, Interpol
agent Samira Neves finds out her father is missing. Following his cryptic breadcrumbs from
New York to Amsterdam and London, Samira’s view of her father is challenged. Unwilling to
involve the authorities, Samira is cut off from her usual networks to investigate the
smuggling and trafficking she is uncovering. While never afraid to use her sensuality to her
advantage, she finds herself stretching her erotic horizons when her bisexual friend Ashleigh
suggests an unorthodox tactic to infiltrate the world of her swinger targets. Will this be
enough to track down her father and find out exactly who was behind it all?
She pushed the accelerator down a little harder, enjoying
how the Maserati surged forward when she dropped down a gear. It was totally unnecessary
but completely worth it for the noise. The sound filled the air, no roof or windows to
separate them from the glorious engine note. Despite the coastal views, Samira almost
wished for a tunnel so she could hear it all around her.
Chelsea laughed suddenly. Samira glanced back to see her
friend unsuccessfully trying to control her normally faultless blonde hair from whipping
around in the wind. Samira grinned. She’d offered Chelsea both a hair tie and a cap at the
start of the day, but Chelsea had waved them away. Of course, the stylish broad-brimmed
hat Chelsea had brought had swiftly ended up in the trunk as it was wholly unsuitable for
open top driving. Samira’s own hair was braided down her back and held tight under a
bright, white baseball cap. She’d been driving convertibles long enough to know the ads
with women’s hair streaming back elegantly were all crap. Beside her, Ashleigh, hair similarly
under control, reached forward to turn down the music.
“God, I love the sound of that engine. It’s such a sexy purr.
Even better than the Ferrari.”
“Well, it is a Ferrari engine.” Samira said.
“Whatever, don’t care. Ferraris are just so shrill. This
sounds better. “ Ashleigh shimmied in her seat. “All bassy, throaty gorgeousness.”
“They should get you on the ads.” Samira said, amused.
“And you could drape yourself over the hood.”
“And scratch up the paintwork? Dad would kill me.”
“Worth it.” Ashleigh murmured.
Samira took it more gently as they turned off the Montauk
Highway heading towards the house. This was a condition of her mother letting her stay for
the week. Apparently last time there had been some complaints about her driving even
though, as she’d tried to argue, Maserati were a dime a dozen around the Hamptons, and it
may not have been her. Her mother had responded with a raised eyebrow and a steady
gaze. She capitulated. In Meadow Lane she dropped to a quiet cruise, which was more a
consequence of the traffic than true obedience on her part. For an exclusive road it was
surprisingly packed at this time of year as everyone tried to squeeze the last enjoyment out
of the stubbornly lingering summer season. Rightly so, she thought, given the endless blue
of the sky overhead.
Finally, she turned into the driveway, waited for the iron
gate to slide aside and headed up to the five-car garage under the house. With her parents
away all the vehicles were in their places except for the open slot next to the Jeep Cherokee
her father normally drove.
The girls popped the trunk and collected together their
various bags with the day’s shopping treasures before splitting off to their bedrooms.
“Cocktails in the pool house in ten minutes!” Samira called
as they headed off. Ashleigh raised a hand over her head in acknowledgement. Chelsea was
too busy dragging her fingers through her tangled hair. Good luck hun, Samira thought, the
only way that was getting sorted was with a wash and an intensive treatment. Actually,
Chelsea might need a treatment for her body too. Samira could see the beginnings of
sunburn flushing the back of Chelsea’s long pale legs beneath the denim cut-offs. Her back,
under the sheer grey top, had an ominous reddish glow about it too. Chelsea had been so
pleased to see sun after a long stint in Seattle that she took every chance she got to lay in it.
Particularly with her international financial services company assigning her to Manchester
for the next six months. Samira was going to miss her. Again. The long, lazy summers they
used to spend together as children seemed like a million years ago.
Samira dropped her packages in the living room and threw
open the doors onto the terrace letting the warm air flow into the house. The breeze was
light but carried the fresh, salt scent of the ocean with it. If it stayed warm, they might take
a walk down to the beach after dinner. By now the weather should have turned cooler and
autumn well established, but not this year. She crossed the terrace and unlocked the pool
house with the key set she kept in the handbag that was never far from her side. She’d
never really been a fan of how the pool house was set up. The bar and kitchen were at the
back with low couches in a lounge area between that and the French doors which led onto
the pool terrace. She would have preferred the bar at least to be closer to the terrace so it
was more accessible, and a person could keep connected to the conversation when an
alcoholic top up was needed. As soon as that thought crossed her mind, she shook her head
at how appallingly boujee that sounded. Poor little rich girl. Her family’s holiday home’s pool
house was not to her liking. She’d been around the world enough to know that multiple
families could live in that space and be very pleased with the luxury
About the Author
Kathryn Allen is the author of
the novels Ever Man and Last Loose End and a number of short stories. These can be found
through Smashwords and Amazon. She enjoys the process of developing characters and
hooking elements of plot together to make interesting stories. Kathryn lives in Queensland
with her husband and dogs.