The Marked Ones by S.K Munt

When people think of mermaids, especially mermaids in literature, they’ll call to mind images of ethereal looking beauties gliding gracefully through a sky blue sea while delicately gripping a dolphin’s fin and smiling at the wonder of just being so damn perfect. They’ll think of names like ‘Saragosia’ and ‘Bedazzle’ and imagine kingdoms rising up out of the coral and seahorses used in place of real horses and unicorns with snorkels and gossamer wings (because it’s Pegasus too) and that barbie outfit they had when they were six when the feet poked out the bottom and Ariel and jewel-encrustred breasts and hair streaked with pink and purple and glitter somehow sliding gracefully up onto rocks and singing ‘Ah ah ah ah ah ah’ to attract their humans against a perfectly pink and purple sunset-

Well if those are your kind of Mermaids, you’re probably not going to like ‘The Marked Ones.’

If you’re anything like me, you like stories at their most scandalous. Like in True Blood when sweet little Sookie demands : ‘I’m a FUCKING FAIRY?!’ Or in Buffy when she gets sick of doing the right thing for mankind and nails Spike to the wall-and as they go at it, the building falls apart. Or you read the tent scene in Eclipse with these two hot guys and thought: ‘Damn girl! There’s room enough in that sleeping bag for three!’ I like my entertainment witty, realistic, and a little bit naughty.

Okay so I also ball my eyes out at the end of Anne Of Green Gables when Matthew dies in the milk pasture, or when Shadow comes limping home at the end of Homeward Bound, so I’m a sucker for sentiment as well-and I’m hoping that in The Marked Ones, I’ve combined everything I love best in a story.

Ivyanne Court is a mermaid princess and yes she’s beautiful, virtuous, kind and honestly hopes to do the right thing-and yet she’s completely over it. Who wouldn’t be? It’s been :’Yes mother, no mother, I won’t take the apple from the snake’ mother for twenty-eight years so when she finds herself out from under her parents loving gaze-she kind of ruins a lot of lives.

All in the name of doing ‘The Right thing,’ of course.

All of my characters are as flawed as any of us. Ivyanne wants her cake, but she’s already eaten half of it. Tristan, the golden-mer pin-up boy, knows he’s good and won’t apologize for it. Pintang is weighing the pros and cons of stealing her best friend’s man, and Ardhi learns that he’s more of a basket case than he thought and simply refuses to care about the consequences.

Yeah, think if Dawson Leery had been armed when he found out that Pacey had kissed Joey. That’s our antagonist.

AND THAT’S JUST THE MERS. The humans in the story are asking to be messed with.

My mermaids don’t reside under the sea. They’re the people you encounter every day in your life and think : ‘Hmm..bit of a random.’ They’re the hot lifeguards who take forever to age despite the fact that they’re in the summer sun, every day. It’s that striking girl who started mid-school year and vanished a few months later who you could never find again-it’s that hot summer romance you had asa teenager who doesn’t have a Facebook you can spy on, ten years later.

They can stay underwater only as long as dolphins, they reside on the coast and they can get around just fine with humans…but it costs them. And if they go too long without water, look out. They don’t have pet Dolphins, they don’t wear bikini tops that perfectly match their tail-and the only reason they’ll serenade you is to cover up whatever unethical thing they just did in your presence.

But it’s still a fairytail. And incredible things do still happen. Because I’m very aware that my story contradicts a lot of what I’ve heard about in this genre, I ease you into it. By book three however, the game has completely changed, and you won’t want to be anywhere else but Seaview.

I’ve never read a mermaid story-I didn’t want my vision compromised through other people’s glasses, but I’m going to get stuck into them now because at the end of the day, sometimes you just need a mermaid with glittery pink hair flipping under a rainbow.

SKU: B00DQOM8G6 Categories: Romance, Romantic Comedy Tags: paranormal, Paranormal Romance, S.K Munt, sexy, trilogy

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About the author:

First book but definitely won’t be the last. I’m an avid reader, have been writing for a lifetime. I’m also a cheerleader, a musical theatre actress, a surfer and a happily married mommy of three from Australia

What inspired you to write your book?

Growing up by the sea, and a fantasy I was having while surfing on a flat day and was surprised by a shark.

Here is a short sample from the book:

Ivyanne shut the door on the dishwasher and pushed the button to start the cycle. Then, she took the tray of steaming hot glasses she had already washed and turned to take them to the bar fridge, so intent in her task that she didn’t notice the man who had stepped behind the bar and now blocked her path to the refrigerator doors.
‘Oh!’ she cried out, surprised to find someone in her personal bubble-he was so close- and so tall-that her eyes were in direct line with the uppermost button on his shirt.
‘Sorry! Let me help you with those.’ The man said, extending his hands to take the tray from her. ‘You must be Ivyanne? I’m the night manager around here.’
‘Um…’ Ivyanne was so startled by his appearance that her fingers remained tight around the steel bars of the tray. So this was her other boss-and Adele’s beau! Well, that made sense, Adele herself was at least five eight.
‘Yes, that’s me….’ Ivyanne looked up into his face and was hit by such a jolt of complete recognition that her hands went to her face in shock. And it must have been a mutual recognition because his hands started to rise up, like he was about to grab her by the shoulders. As a result, the tray of glasses clattered to the floor. The rubber mat beneath her feet cushioned the blow, but the tinkling of smashed glass was unmistakable, and drew a cheer from some of those in the dining area.
But Ivyanne only noted this in her sub-conscious. In the moment itself, she was almost too beside herself to react accordingly. His name came to her lips but she pressed them firmly together to stop it from escaping. Her heart expanded and shrunk, and adrenalin got her nerve endings firing to the effect of chaotic fireworks-but she was still trained enough to know that every thing she did and said in the next few seconds was vital to keeping her identity a secret. So she fought off every urge in her weary body to throw her arms around her boss’s neck, and dropped to her knees under the guise of sorting out the mess, lowering her eyes as well. Only when she wasn’t looking into those beautiful brown eyes, did the fog lift from her panicked thoughts.
‘I’m so sorry sir!’ She finally managed to stutter, keeping her eyes on the shattered glass. ‘I’ve been so careful not to drop a single glass-and then I go and drop twenty!’ Her mind was reeling. Boss. Sir. Those labels were so wrong. So very wrong.
‘Don’t worry about the glass!’ The man dropped to his knees, his hand reaching out to grasp Ivyanne’s wrist with urgency. ‘Aren’t you…?’
Ivyanne looked up and into his eyes, unable to stop herself. If he was actually recognizing her, as she suspected he was, she had to kill that train of thought. ‘The girl from last night?’ she fobbed, knowing already that it had been him she’d encountered while returning naked from the sea-the boy from her past was also the shadowy figure from the night before. His height was a dead giveaway, after all, and his voice. ‘Please sir… don’t tell anyone, I’m so embarrassed…’
Lincoln blinked as his mind went where she was pushing it. They seemed to focus for a moment, on her face, then un-focus as he dug up the memory of a naked girl on the sand. Ivyanne silently willed him to see the impossibility of his initial instinct, willed herself to look sixteen and unfamiliar to him. God help her, she was on the verge of humming him brain-dead, which was something she was usually loathe to do.
‘Last night?’ he finally repeated, as though in a daze. He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘That was you?’
She bit her lip and ducked her head again. ‘Busted….’
‘Oh,’ he said this flatly, and his face went a little slack. He looked down at the glass, then seemed to shake something off. ‘That must be it…’ he muttered mainly to himself.
Ivyanne took a moment to examine his profile, completely overcome and unable to tear her eyes away. How many times had she imagined that moment and what she would say to him? How fiercely she would kiss him? She rose to her feet, lecturing herself inwardly. A reunion with Lincoln Grey had been a dream, but a childhood one. Now, it was an unexpected and very dangerous situation. What was he even doing there, and how long had he been there for? How could she not have known?
Tears of loss pricked at her eyes as she studied him and took an inventory of how cruel time had been to him. He looked like a middle-aged man now, even though he couldn’t be thirty yet, and was a mere shadow of the handsome tourist come summer lifeguard who had stolen her heart so many seasons ago. She had recognized his eyes, but not much else was the same, well, aside from the thrill that raced through her. He’d lopped off his shoulder length brown hair, and their were smile lines around his eyes, and frown lines around his mouth. His posture was slightly stooped, as was typical of tall people who were self conscious about their height, and his skin was dry and pale, like he hadn’t seen the sun or a bottle of water in years.
The run-in with him the night before on the beach was one saving grace at least-it gave him a new association with her that she had to play up if she was going to get out of this situation without incident, but her poor heart was beating so furiously she was afraid it would have a staccato-like effect on her voice.
‘I’m very sorry, again. For the glasses. I’ll go and get a broom.’
The man stood up, his gaze raking over her from head to toe. She could practically see the calculations behind his eyes. Good, let him do the math and come to the conclusion that he was insane for even thinking it. The girl he knew was supposed to look thirty too.
Still, his appraisal had her rooted to the spot, heart pounding. God…it was good to see him. Surreal, and wonderful and completely bittersweet.
‘Ivyanne! What happened?’ Adele appeared at Link’s side, glancing from him, to her, to the mess on the floor.
‘I knocked them out of her hands,’ Link said quickly, darting a glance in Ivyanne’s direction, one that said he had no intention of selling her out as a midnight streaker. ‘I must have surprised her.’
‘Oh,’ Adele’s forehead wrinkled with annoyance. ‘Look Ivyanne, don’t worry about the broom-Link will grab it. It’s best you get out of here and make sure you’re not cut before you touch anything else. Nothing stings a cut quite like bourbon.’
Still looking shell-shocked, Lincoln backed out of the room, his wandering gaze apparently set on cleaning up the mess they’d made together. But he looked back once, and when he did, Ivyanne saw that his curiosity had not been sated.
‘Okay,’ Ivyanne lowered her hands and turned back to Adele. ‘I really am sorry.’
‘It’s okay,’ Adele let her go and smiled grimly. ‘My fiancé is always underfoot.’
Fiancé? Pintang hadn’t mentioned the engagement part. Ivyanne’s heart skipped at the word and she tried to ignore the way her stomach rolled unhappily. She really needed to get some air. The stink of bourbon was making her feel ill and dizzy.
‘Okay. Well I’ll see you back at the room later.’
‘Probably. Night Ivyanne. Uh…you did good.’
Relief rose to the surface in her cauldron of emotions. Was the trial over? Oh god if it was, that meant she was really going to stay here-in this place-with him. It was a horrific yet giddily fantastical notion she couldn’t process yet.