Azure doesn’t show. I toss my shoes and shirt onto the tufts of grass at the edge of the sand, and wade knee deep into the surf to cool the burn of being stood up.
I splash water on my sweaty face. Did I make too much of my flirt with Azure? I dunk my head into the lagoon and shake the water off the three braids trailing down my back. I did feel a connection with Azure. Maybe not as strong as the pull toward the woman who yanked me out of the sea, but it was there.
I’ve got to stop thinking about the night of the storm. Curse my bud, Juan Luna, and his philosophies about my rescuer being a soulmate, a heart’s fate. My hand rests over the tattoo of a full moon on the right side of my chest. The nondescript silhouette of my mythical heart’s fate, a dream girl, covers the left side, the heart side. A trail of stars rains down between the images.
When a member of our artist’s commune turns eighteen, Juan Luna’s grandpa offers to gift them with a unique ink design. No one picks their tattoo. We trust the master to create his art, using us as his canvas. He taps into mana, spiritual energy from deep in his Hawaiian forefather’s roots.
Mana chose my tattoo.
The clear cerulean water of the lagoon outdoes the bright afternoon sky. Blue, the color of peace. I drink it in like a potion, and let the breeze be a salve to my soul.
The song, “Moon Path,” I’ve been working on flows through my brain, and I sing.
Essence of the moon, my strength
Hear me in the light of day
Lead me past the waves that crash
Reveal my path to find love’s way
I am lost to fortune’s whim
Ever searching sky and sea
Sweetest voice of breath and life
Oh, dear soul who sang to me
I play with chords, keys, rests, but the song doesn’t take shape nor do any more lyrics flow. I’m musically babbling about a woman I’ll never see again. The whole song stinks. It’s as if I’m not meant to sing about the soul who saved me. What should songs be about if they can’t tell the story of life altering experiences?
Sun beats on my shoulders and neck. I trek through the gentle waves of the lagoon toward shore.
“Essss…”
I stop, water lapping at my thighs, and look around. I swear I just heard someone sing a note. The only sound is the crash of breakers against the staggered half circle of rocks that form a natural breakwater for the lagoon.
“…ence.”
It comes again. Undeniably a voice. I scan the lagoon.
I close my eyes and recapture the note. “Essss–. Essence.” My eyes pop open. It’s the first word of my song and the notes are perfect, forming the illusive beginning I couldn’t find in my dabbling.
I sing. “Essence of the–” I stall again. Do I stick to the key, or expand the musical vocabulary of the song?
“Mooon”
Yes, once again, the perfect note. Someone sings with me to fill gaps in my mess of a melody.
“My”
I whip around searching for the creator of these singular notes. Surf splashing over sea rocks muffles the voice. I wade deeper into the lagoon until I’m swimming toward the craggy tops of boulders poking out of the sea.
“Who’s out here?” I yell, treading water. I’m following notes in my head. There’s no way a voice could rise over the racket of the sea. I’ve heard certain water birds can adjust their calls to cut through the sound of waves. People can’t.
I’m about to turn to shore when first a head then the upper body of a woman rise over the edge of a large, slanted rock in the breakwater.
“It’s me, Azure.”
I swallow a gallon of salt water.
She executes a perfect dive off the rock into the lagoon as I sputter and cough. Within moments she surfaces a few feet away. “Need a slap on the back?”
I shake my head. The braid with a moonstone disc woven into its end whacks me in the face. “Ouch, no.” I rub my eye and stare at her. “Where did you come from?”
She waves an arm at the finger of island stretching into the ocean. “Shuttle.”
I search the distant sand spit beyond the lagoon. There’s no teardrop shaped shuttle that travels between the surface and the underwater concert venue, Miaqua, where Azure lives.
Azure follows my gaze and gives a nervous little laugh. It’s the essence of sweet. “I parked around the far side.”
I point toward her invisible ship. “You swam from there?”
Her arms trace a path through the water. “Yes. I love the water.”
I move nearer. “It’s rough past the breakers, bad rip currents. You lucked out.”
She flips a strand of blue hair off the side of her face. “Skill. Don’t worry your pretty little braids about it.”
Azure’s beauty knocks me sideways. She’s a groovy blend of delicate and confident. And that hair. Oh moon, it’s not a dye job, the color matches the notes of a bright blue sky. The woman is a major key. I try to match her casual vibe as we float near the breakwater. A shiver blows my cool.
“You’re cold,” she says. “We should go in.” Her eyes widen. She looks nervous.
“I’m fine.” A chilly current from the open sea slithers in, and I shiver a second time.
“Don’t feel the need to impress me with manly body temperature regulation.” She shoots a wary glance at the shore. “The island is newish to me, and maybe a little scary.”
We reach the shallows where we can stand. I offer her my arm. “Rai Cloud at your service to help navigate the scary.”
Azure slips her arm through mine. We take a few awkward steps through the water, and she pulls away. “No offense, I’d rather swim.” Azure dives beneath the surface and speeds toward shore until she stands on the sand, arms wrapped around her middle. The pairing of her hair with her lagoon blue eyes is dazzling. Her body is covered in a shimmery iridescent emerald wetsuit that reminds me of a watermarked silk scarf my mother brought back from a trip to Bali. The suit hugs her lithe curves. Around her waist a thin gold chain holds a clamshell-shaped pouch that appears to be made of pearl. The breeze lifts the ends of her deep blue hair. It’s hard to believe this being who came from the sea is anything less than enchanted.
Copyright 2023 by Leslie O’Sullivan
Rai Cloud, a once promising singer, faces the loss of his record company and his career until one fateful night a mystery woman saves him from a stormy sea and sings him back to life. The voice of his elusive rescuer has to be the missing piece to reignite his musical gifts. If only he could find her!
Before Tani Emerson’s spirit can cross over to the afterlife, the Sea Witch, Sulaa Kylock, intercedes to offer Tani a bargain to earn a way back to the living and reunite with her first true love, Rai Cloud.
Tani must now succeed in challenges set forth by the Sea Witch. In spirit form, she’s charged with convincing Rai she’s not merely an illusion and they will be granted a second chance at love.
Harder still is the need to sabotage the steamy romance brewing between Rai and Azure Tempesta, a sweet and sexy singer from the popular musical act, The Mermaids, who inspires Rai to make the music he thought only his mystery savior could awaken.
The Little Mermaid meets The Tempest in a fantasy romance where fated mates, second chances, and a supernatural love triangle determine the destiny of all.
Romance Fantasy [City Owl Press, On Sale: January 1, 2023, Paperback, ISBN: 9781648983252 / eISBN: 9781648983245]
Leslie O’Sullivan is the author of Rockin' Fairy Tales, an adult romance series of Shakespeare/fairy tale mash ups set against the backdrop of Hollywood’s music scene. Coming soon is her Behind the Scenes contemporary romance series that peeks into the off-camera secrets of a wildly popular television drama. She’s a UCLA Bruin with a BA and MFA from their Department of Theater where she also taught for years on the design faculty. Her tenure in the world of television was as the assistant art director on “It’s Garry Shandling’s Show.” Leslie loves to indulge her fangirl side each year at San Diego Comic Con.
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