- Author: Kristi Belcamino
Read book online «Dark Vengeance by Kristi Belcamino (electric book reader .txt) 📕». Author - Kristi Belcamino
Copyright © 2020 by Kristi Belcamino
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
For information contact: [email protected]
This book is dedicated to Rebecca Cassell for her keen eye in editing this book. I also wanted to give a huge thank you to all the members of my ARC team who also did some seriously impressive typo hunting.
Any errors that still remain in this version are entirely my fault.
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About the Author
Also by Kristi Belcamino
The 12th book in the USA TODAY Bestselling series.
Bereft over the death of another loved one, Gia Santella leaves Barcelona with a backpack slung over her shoulder containing all her worldly belongings.
Determined to live as a nomad until she finds Rose—the young woman she raised as her own—Gia’s quest leads to a camp of misfit surfers on a small Indonesian island.
A dark evil has recently taken hold of the island and threatens the surfers and villagers who now live in constant fear.
Gia’s arrival sets in motion a series of deadly events leading to a bloody trail of bodies strewn across the island.
It’s up to Gia to stop the slaughter before she and Rose are the next victims.
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Deadly contains the first book in each of my three series: Gia, the prequel novella to the USA Today Bestselling Gia Santella series; Eva, the prequel to the Eva Santella series and The Saint, the prequel to the Gabriella Giovanni series.
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The jungle’s thick trees arching above the gravel road had created a false, early dusk that coated everything in a greenish light. I’d lost track of time since I’d stepped off the ferry onto this island and began the trip through this endless gloom.
The driver slowed, and the vehicle emerged from the shadows. On the other side of a wide expanse of beach, an ocean lay before me for as far as I could see. I blinked at the bright, dreamy golden paradise as I stepped outside the car, handing the driver a wad of cash and promising more if he’d wait an hour for me.
I walked across the sandy pavement and stood, scanning the ramshackle village of huts scattered on the bluff overlooking the beach.
The setting sun turned the water a molten gold color. More than two dozen surfers riding the crashing waves were only distinguishable as graceful, weaving black silhouettes.
Walking down to the beach, I scanned the surfers who remained on the shore. Several sat in groups. The sweet smell of marijuana was thick in the air.
I was looking for one familiar dark head. I didn’t see her and felt a pang of disappointment. I scolded myself. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy. I was dealing with Rose. She’d gone to great lengths not to be found.
I approached one clump of surfers sitting on the sand with their knees to their chests, facing the water as if they were watching a film. Maybe in their world, they were. A movie made up of endless varieties of crashing waves and shimmering lights—each one unique. Some a challenge. Some a disappointment. Some heartbreakingly beautiful. Some frightening.
A microcosm of life itself.
A tall black woman with long blonde braids looked over at me. I examined her. Her startlingly piercing green eyes looked like they could see right through me. Her eyes reminded me of my friend Darling’s niece, another stunningly beautiful black woman with green eyes.
This woman seemed like a no-bullshit type of woman. Her toned, athletic body was in a sporty one-piece swimsuit, and she had a serious- looking surfboard tucked under her arm. She didn’t smile, but she didn’t frown, either, so I kept walking toward her.
Another young woman, petite and beautiful with a freckled nose and tousled sandy brown hair, gave me the once over as she took a puff of a joint and passed it to a boy beside her. He had spiky dreads and a warm smile that he shot my way. Another guy sat on the other side of her. This boy had white blonde hair that stuck up and a long scar that trailed from the corner of his mouth to mid-cheek. His eyes flickered over my face, and I could see when he noticed my own scar running from my cheekbone up to my hairline. His eyes widened slightly and then he turned away. He was not impressed.
Two other boys, dark blonde and tanned, were facing the water, giving commentary in thick Australian accents on the surfers riding the waves.
I sat on the sand nearby and watched the surfers for a few seconds before I spoke.
The friendly looking guy with