Read Online My Greek SEAL by Sabrina Devonshire - Free Book Online Page A

her head toward the end of the table and covers her mouth to mask the food she’s chewing. “Tara told me earlier she’s a writer, too.”
    “Really? I’ve never even met an author before and now I know two.” Talk about a sign. Maybe Eros was right. This trip to Greece is starting to seem more like destiny than a sign that I’ve lost my mind. I’ve spent a lot of time writing during my years on the road, but have no idea how to make sure it’s good enough or how to sell something to an agent or a publisher. I wonder if they would be offended if I asked them what to do. “Have you always been an author?”
    “No. I worked at a dental office for years. Mostly doing appointments and paperwork. On the weekends I went to writing workshops and started doing a bit of writing. I met an editor from Harlequin a few years ago and she quite liked my work. Since then, I’ve published two or three books a year.”
    “Wow. Good for you.” I want to ask more questions, but feel like it would be better to do it a little at a time. There must be so many people who want to be writers, who ask her a million questions.
    “You said you had written a bit,” says Maryann. “What kind of articles do you write?”
    “I love writing adventure travel articles. Places you can go to scuba dive, mountain climb or do zip lining. Stuff like that. The novel I wrote is a mystery.”
    “Have you brought along any writing samples I could take a look at?” Maryann asks.
    “Sure. They’re on my computer, though.”
    “Let’s talk one evening this week after our afternoon swim. I’ll take a look, let you know what I think. If your work seems right good, I’ll put you in touch with some editors.”
    “Oh, you don’t need to do that. This is your vacation.”
    “Ah, but so many people helped me get started as a writer when I was first interested. Now I get a turn to help.”
    “That’s really nice of you.”
    Maryann gives me a sympathetic smile and pauses for a moment before speaking. “Before you gush all over with thank yous, you better wait for me to take a read. It wouldn’t be right if I weren’t honest with you, you know.”
    My excitement ebbs away. I’d almost forgotten the possibility that the writing I thought was good might be the worst imaginable. “I understand.”
    “Can I ask you something?”
    I try to mask my disappointment. “Sure, why not?”
    “How would you describe this morning’s swim?”
    I pause and think and then as if by magic I see the words inside my mind. “When I was swimming, at first I felt alone in that vast sea of deep blue water. And then I started smelling the salt and feeling the breeze on my arms each time I reached out to take another stroke. The seawater seemed to embrace me, massaging all my muscles with its watery warmth and then as my stroke smoothed out and became more meditation than exercise, I felt as though I was the sea.” Holy crap. Did I just say that out loud?
    Maryann claps her hands together and gives me an endearing smile. “Very good. I don’t need to see your sample to know you are a writer. You don’t just walk through life. You see things, feel them, and absorb them into your being. You can make it. With some practice and a bit of work that is.”
    “I don’t know. But that’s really nice of you to say. Sometimes when things are happening, words pop into my mind. Ones I would use to describe the experience. It’s a bit like I’m writing a journal, except I’m not writing at all. It’s all happening inside my head.”
    “I understand, dear. That’s why I carry a digital recorder in my pocket. I never know when a lovely tidbit might pop into my mind. Sometimes it’s a bit too rare. Sometimes, it’s quite often.”
    “I might try that. It’s a great idea. Thank you so much, Maryann.” I clear my throat. “But I have been talking way too much.” I direct my gaze toward Eros. “What about you? What line of work are you in?”
    Eros’ fork pauses on