By Jinx Schwartz
Hetta Coffey is a sassy Texan with a snazzy yacht, and she's now not afraid to exploit it!
A globe-trotting engineer with perspective, a penchant for hassle, and a yacht, Hetta is again, and this time she's steerage us into sizzling Mexican waters.
Miffed that holiday plans along with her chronically absent boyfriend, Jenks Jenkins, have long past awry, she accepts a role in Baja.
So what, if she and her good friend Jan are spectacularly unqualified to take her yacht on a thousand-mile cruise within the jap Pacific Ocean in the course of typhoon season?
Hiring a good-looking, if a little fishy captain for the journey may possibly retain them off the rocks, yet most likely will not do an analogous for her destiny with Jenks. in the meantime, a bit eye sweet on board cannot be all bad.
Hetta's fierce independence impels her to take on a truly ecocnomic (if environmentally and politically improper) undertaking south of the border. precise to shape, her irreverent nature and disrespect for probability quickly swamps her in a sea of mayhem, unlawful extraterrestrial beings, a pesky whale, and a menacing Mexican machinator.
Set sail for Baja Mexico's Magdalena Bay as Hetta Coffey leads us once again right into a morass of intrigue that might retain you guffawing, breathless, and in need of extra.
Read or Download Just Add Salt (Hetta Coffey Series, Book 2) PDF
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Additional info for Just Add Salt (Hetta Coffey Series, Book 2)
Subsequent time I’ll get somebody who doesn’t trigger smoke bombs in my engine room and ship me net hate mail. Goodnight, Ernesto. ” His white enamel gleamed in his darkish, good-looking face. “And reliable evening to you, Looocy. ” “Hetta? Who you chatting with? ” Jenks got here out at the balcony, placed his hands round me and nuzzled my neck. “Ricky Ernesto Fabio. He and Fluff are going domestic the next day to come. Jan and Chino go away, too. We’ll be on their own, eventually. ” We stood searching to the place the ocean of Cortez meets the Pacific Ocean. A cruise send, lit up like big apple urban, rounded Cabo’s recognized arches. a mix of disco, salsa and mariachi track wafted up on a breeze. Muy romántica. Stars mirrored like diamonds at the calm water, moonlight shimmered off that pesky Lonesome’s again. And miracle of milagros, he had corporation. simply days ahead of, Chino suggested a feminine blue putting round Lonesome. She hadn’t, to this point, controlled to appeal his Floyd clear of my boat, yet we have been maintaining our palms crossed. Bluebell, as we’d named her, caught by means of his part as he swam in gradual circles, protecting vigil on Raymond Johnson. Yep, romance was once certainly within the air. I simply was hoping, for my boat’s sake, that Lonesome’s gal good friend didn’t have a jealous streak. “Okay, so we’ll be virtually on my own. desire you don’t brain the odor of whale breath. ” “I can get used to it. received used to you, didn’t I? ” I elbowed him. “Watch it, Buster, you aren’t out of the woods but. Jan advised me that brother of yours, Lars, had your futures all deliberate, and we ladies people weren’t in that plan. ” “Lars who? ” ~End~ concerning the writer Award-winning writer Jinx Schwartz has spent so much of her lifestyles touring the area for paintings and delight. She spends as a lot time as attainable afloat within the Sea of Cortez and pulls a lot of Hetta's adventures from her boating studies there. while no longer in Mexico, Jinx reveals herself excessive and dry at the Arizona border. you could succeed in her at: jinxschwartz@yahoo. com On fb: http://on. facebook. me/YJ7hXT On Twitter: @jinxschwartz Google Plus: http://bit. ly/14YbZ7d simply upload difficulty publication three within the Hetta Coffey secret sequence hassle comes from an excessive amount of speak —Chinese proverb Prologue Paco itched. Checking to ensure Nacho watched the surroundings rather than him, he shifted ahead at the difficult bench seat of the panga and squirmed. What he fairly sought after used to be to enable pass of the outboard’s steerage arm and claw on the millions of spiders racing less than his dermis. they'd names, he knew. Meth mites, crank insects. He additionally feared he was once at the verge of tweaking like a few lowlife crankhead. what number instances had he and his homeboys busted a intestine over the twitchy, skinny-assed suckers who got their stuff? With their rotten enamel and scabby sores, his clients may besides put on tee shirts analyzing, Kick Me, I’m a Methhead. He’d been cautious, didn‘t smoke or shoot it, like a few silly loser. Smoking meth leaves your enamel black, and no means he’d shoot, he hated needles. All he’d performed used to be parachute a small quantity wrapped in a torn nook off a paper serviette whilst he was once rather dragging ass.