About the Author
Linda Yoshida, aka Kaylin McFarren, is a rare bird, indeed. Not a migratory sort, she prefers to hug the West Coast and keep family within visiting range. Although she has virtually been
around the world, she was born in California, relocated with her family to Washington, and nested with her husband in Oregon. Besides playing an active role in his business endeavors, she has been involved in all aspects of their three daughters' lives: taxi duties, cheerleading coaching, script rehearsals, and relationship counseling, to name but a few. Now, she enjoys spending free time with her two young grandsons and hopes to have many more.
Although Kaylin wasn't born with a pen in hand like so many of her talented fellow authors, she has been actively involved in business and personal writing projects for many years. As director of a fine art gallery, she assisted in furthering the careers of numerous visual artists through promotional opportunities in national publications. Eager to spread her creative wings, she has since steered her energy toward writing novels. As a result, she has earned more than a dozen literary awards and was a 2008 finalist in the prestigious RWA® Golden Heart contest.
Kaylin is a member of RWA, Rose City Romance Writers, and Willamette Writers. Receiving her AA in literature at Highline Community College originally sparked her passion for writing. In her free time, she enjoys giving back to the community through participation and support of various charitable and educational organizations in the Pacific Northwest.
Inspiration behind the story
Kaylin has been involved in the business of collecting and selling Asian antiques for more than a decade. Because of her interest in this field and her fascination with the undersea world, she was inspired to write a story about the recovery of a Chinese concubine's cursed treasure from a sunken ship, which aids in healing a woman's damaged soul. Kaylin spent four months researching scuba diving, trade routes, famous battles, and natural disasters that befell Spanish galleons from the 15
th
to 17
th
centuries. It is her hope that this action-adventure romance will entertain readers and honor the dedicated salvaging and exploration companies that have contributed remarkable discoveries and cross-sections of history to museums and institutions around the world.
Table of Contents
Tea spilled from the professor’s cup. The brown puddle seeped toward a stack of files on his desk. He mopped it away with a piece of scrunched notebook paper as he glanced in her direction. "I’m sorry. What did you say?" His strained voice shot out an octave higher.
"Rachel," he ran over her words, "maybe I didn’t make myself clear. What we have here is an incredible discovery that’s going to bring international recognition to our museum...to our city and community.” He took a breath, gathering himself. “Please understand…an opportunity like this doesn’t come along every day. I know Sam would’ve loved to have been part of this."
In an instant, the man was on his feet. "If you could just give me a minute…" He pulled a worn textbook from his desk and was flipping through pages while moving toward her chair. "This isn’t a Spanish galleon, mind you. It’s an ancient Chinese vessel, similar to the Nanhai No. 1– an eight-hundred year old merchant ship that was involved in arms smuggling before it sank fifty-eight meters under the Java Sea. Copper guns and cannons were discovered near the wreck site, which wasn't uncommon on ocean-faring vessels at the time. Ah...here’s a sketch." He placed the book on her lap, anchoring her. "Besides a cargo of valuable tea, our ship was carrying more than 10,000 pieces of kraak porcelain in the lower decks as ballast. According to the historical data I have here somewhere…" He turned and briskly leafed through a hefty stack of paperwork.
"Oh, now I remember," she said. "I read about the recovery of that ship years ago. The survey and lifting costs of the artifacts alone cost over ten million dollars." She set the book aside and rose. "Doctor, this sounds fascinating, truly, but like I said..."
Trepidation flowed hot into her cheeks as her gaze traveled over his face. Years had passed, yet he appeared as irritatingly handsome as ever. His sun-bleached hair still fell into a natural part above his lucid blue eyes. An ever-present five o’clock shadow rimmed his contemptuous jaw.
Macy’s Café. Chase had joined Sam for a cup of coffee and found her waiting in the booth beside him. She ogled and fussed over the old man who was clearly twice her age. Although Chase had come there to discuss his job offer, for the better part of an hour she’d given both of them an earful. He’d never met anyone who took so much pride in the amount of gossip they could spout. Aside from Ian, anyway.
Fire had ignited gunpowder kegs in the hull of the Akron during a battle with the British fleet. Part of the stern had been found completely intact. Also six bronze cannons and two casts brimming with glistening jewels. A dispute broke out between Egypt and France after evidence on board confirmed that Napoleon’s flagship, The Orient, was involved in a renewed salvage attempt by the Quebec Maritime Development Company.
Rachel glanced away for a moment. “I still don’t understand my part in all of this.”
Once the anchor was raised, Chase turned over the engines. He was about to throw the throttle into gear when an unlikely solution dawned on him. Angling toward Blaine, he posed the two-hundred-thousand-dollar question – the question that could revive their slackened salvage operation. “Say, kid. How’d you like to be part of a treasure hunt?"
He reached for Rachel’s hand and placed a set of keys in her palm. "I had a time convincing the new owner to part with her, but I know this is what your dad would have wanted."
Chase surrendered his place in line. He edged his way around the dance floor, shielding himself behind a curtain of faceless people. He waited a safe distance away for an opportune moment to interrupt, but witnessing a heated exchange hadn’t been part of his plan.
With two tugs on the air hose, Chase signaled a move and continued swinging the rod. He finished scanning another five-foot section where over twelve meters of silt had already been removed. He was close to calling it quits, when the detector blasted a melodious tune. He brushed the fine sand away, uncovering links in a heavy iron chain. His heart thumped wildly in his chest, anticipating the discovery of Sam’s elusive anchor. And there it was…covered in silt.
"Whatcha think?” Ian dangled the long chain in front of A.J. Hobbs, their newly acquired technician. A.J. looked up from his notes. He slapped his archeological book shut and cleared a space on the table before accepting Ian's offering. Then he began slowly unraveling it.
The porcelain jar was in remarkably good condition. The faint bird design and embedded stamp on its base hinted at Chinese origins, adding excitement to Chase’s discovery. "Only got two hours before we head in," he said. "I still need to verify the ship’s name. If we’re lucky, all the proof we need is in your hands." He smiled, exuding confidence. If everything panned out as he anticipated, come morning, he’d pick up his official papers and be back in the water claiming the ship and the treasure they’d been enlisted to find. He glimpsed A.J., flipping through one Asian antique book after another – sheer determination pleating his brows.
With no place to park, Chase abandoned his truck beside a dumpster in an alleyway. Like a man possessed, he scrambled down the walkway dividing two waterfront shops. He squeezed through an opening in the security fence. Forty to fifty boats ranging from decades old motor cruisers to sail-driven skiffs bobbed on anchor lines in the north harbor. Nothing seemed odd or out of place. Once he reached the first row of docks, he picked up speed, visually scanning the vessels moored there for the night. When he reached the final section of occupied slips, he was stopped dead in his tracks. Number Forty-Nine was empty. His gaze claimed the south harbor, where his boat was now fully engulfed in flames.
"As you all know," Chase continued, "Sam Lyons played an important role in this project. What set him apart from other salvagers were his instincts…his willingness to search outside the box. Although he's no longer with us, he put us on the right path. Twenty kilometers beyond Griffin's perimeter, porcelain shards turned up. We've since discovered a virtual trail leading to the Nimbus jetty where the Wanli's anchor was found. In sector twelve, we might be looking at cannons, which according to Doc, the smugglers used to protect their horde. So keep your eyes peeled and stay on target. We’re after china and jewelry here but any relics you come across are a bonus in all our pockets. And one more thing,” he added. “Don't take any unnecessary risks. I intend to bring everyone home safe and sound.”
Rachel kicked up silt as she followed behind. She held out the detector and waved it in a broad arch. The shrill alarm sounded. She picked up a large elongated-shaped rock and turned it over in her gloved hand. It appeared to be a calcified artifact – perhaps some type of carving. She pulled a blue bag from her stash and secured it inside. She snapped it onto the lower section of her harness to keep it from dragging.
No doubt wanting to be the first to find treasure, Rachel assumed he had swum ahead to gain access to the cargo hold. Aside from an appealing reward, his success would set him apart from the crew members anxiously waiting above.
Blaine jerked his head up, dropping his book on the floor. He casted her a disparaging glare while leaning down to retrieve his crumpled pages. “Jeez, Rachel.”
Blaine closed his book and smiled. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that. According to Chinese historians, the Wanli II doesn’t exist. Even though she was modeled after the original ship, there are virtually no records of where she was built or her true country of origin. I guess you could say she’s kind of a ghost ship, which makes the manifest records the captain acquired from Professor Ying a real mystery. In any event, they have a signed personal agreement between them. You know…to make sure we get a nice finder’s fee for all the porcelain and relics we bring up. Even checked it out myself to make sure. I’m just grateful we’re not tied to a self-serving thief like Harper, is all.”
Her research book on spectroscopic techniques suggested quasi-monochromatic x-ray for analyzing the patina on ancient metal relics and recommended careful, supervised examination to preserve its archeological significance. So much for integrity. She picked up a sharp metal tool and set to work scraping and chipping away. After twenty minutes, she used the compressor to blow away the gritty residue. Then she reexamined her find.
Click. Knock. Click. Knock. Click. Knock. The ceiling fan became wipers on her car, keeping a steady rhythm. Sweeping back and forth like a metronome. She peered through the moist windshield at the glistening harbor lights in the distance. According to the notebook on her passenger seat, she’d been at work all day, protecting the ocean sanctuaries off the California Coast. She had no desire to question her good fortune or the latitude that had brought her there. The tranquilizers had worked their magic, smoothing out the wrinkles. Filling her soul with unattainable bliss. She sank back in her seat and smiled at the world outside, passing by in a Technicolor blur.
Devon watched the two men with detached interest. From the information he had gathered in the room, Novak would need his corroborating statement in order to clear himself, but Devon had a self-defense matter of his own to worry about. He swallowed the lump in his throat. It would only be a matter of time before his part in Gabe Pollero’s death came out.
She watched a fine line of blood suddenly appear beneath the knife’s sharp edge. Her breath caught. She swallowed hard. She couldn’t be responsible for anything happening to Blaine. He had no part in any of this. But she also knew if she surrendered the cobra, there would be no reason to keep them alive.
She smiled and looked around for Ian. He was still huddled near the rail, deep in conversation with Wade. The stolen looks over their shoulders convinced her that Blaine had already revealed her part in the fiasco. She cringed realizing she’d foolishly put all their lives at risk.
