Just Another Day In Paradise

Visualize a scenario where you are vacationing in a tropical island, away from the hustle and bustle of the cities, stresses of daily life, watching the waves reaching out to caress the shore, and you sipping the coconut water with a straw and next to you curled up is your sweetheart, humming a love song in your ear. Sounds fascinating and romantic? of course, it is. Have you ever thought of the lives and the miseries of the inhabitants of this "tropical paradise"? Have you looked into the weary eyes of the street urchins, as you walked past them to the sandy beach? or care to know the women toiling in the rice and sugar cane fields for pennies a day and the endless abuse they are subjected to by their drunken husbands and the harassment by the rich men driving around in their Mercedes-Benz and BMW cars? If you claim you care, then read Rethee Devi's story penned in these pages. You may develop a new insight of the torture she suffered along with half-starved women whom she defended as their attorney in Kerala State, India, also known as "God's Own Country."

How I ended up going from having my heart broken by Brady to being married to Marcelo was beyond me. Okay, it was a fake marriage. But still. I had booked a cruise to get away for some desperately needed downtime, which ended up being the exact opposite of what I got. Instead, I was coaxed into working a case with Marcelo, which was what I had always wanted. Not so much having to deal with Marcelo, but being invited to work an undercover investigation. The problem was, having to pretend to be Marcelo’s wife became more than I bargained for as emotions skyrocketed and I didn’t know how to tame them. Solving the case wasn’t the only thing on my mind. Now I needed to figure out how I was going to get off this ship with my heart intact. How could a person fall for someone when their heart was already broken? This was Just Another Day In Paradise.

A friend complimented me on my vivid imagination after reading a draft of 'Just Another Day in Paradise'. The truth is that most of the locations really exist and that if you wander the Caribbean you will come across them. Many of the events also happened but some in different times and places and sometimes the characters just took off and did their own thing, ignoring me the way children ignore their parents when immersed in adventures. The Caribbean is where I live and I have kept true to its spirit and it is still wild and eciting. These adventures happen here every day; I know because adventures not disimilar have happened to me or my friends.

No one ever said being married to a rock star was going to be easy; ask Nichole LaForge, wife of Garry LaForge . . . Yes, THE Garry LaForge--host of sold-out summer concerts, grand marshal of the crazy parade, guru of the laid-back-lifestyle, heartthrob of every dang bikini-clad, breast-job in the nation (shoot, don't get me started on that one ). Anyway, regardless of what you may have read at the checkout counter, it was not a shotgun wedding. Although, I must admit, I preferred the focus rest on my pregnancy rather than the fact that I?d been raped and held captive by the Navy's not so finest just four months prior. Speaking of horrendous psychopaths (and I hate to even mention the name) - just wait ?til you hear what Hunter Rayburn has been up to this past year . . .? It's one mishap after another as Garry and Nichole venture from the deserts of Arizona to the swamps of the Everglades and into the horrifying depths of every parent's nightmare.

In 1844, there was a land rush to North Central Florida. Rush land was selling for forty-seven cents an acre, and Horatio Elgin purchased 5,600 acres of it. He was the first of four generations to steward this Garden of Eden that turned out to be a paradise for the breeding of Thoroughbred horses. This is the story of the people and the horses of Paradise!

The black-and-whites lay sprawled across my desktop: about two-dozen 8 x 10s, each taken through the grimy window of a cheap motel room, each depicting the unclad images of Mr. Ronald Hillard and his mistress—her long hair styled in thick braided cornrows. I glanced at the photos one last time and sighed. Mr. Hillard certainly has an unusual—some would say disturbing—style of lovemaking. Well, to each his own. My name is Cecelia Love but everyone calls me C. C. for short. I am a Private Investigator and solving crimes is my new profession.

History of Kwajalein principally from 1944 to present. Includes construction, schools, newspapers, recreation activities, brief overview of current and past military programs located there.

From an ex-con, ex-addict, and natural-born writer comes a gut-wrenching tale that is the literary cousin of "Pulp Fiction".