The Unimaginable – Dina Silver NOW AVAILABLE!

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Title: The Unimaginable

Author: Dina Silver

Age Group: Adult

Genre: Contemporary


From the author of One Pink Line comes a story about letting go of

the past and finding bravery in the depths of fear. Set on the sun-soaked beaches of Thailand and the rough waters of the Indian Ocean, The Unimaginable paints a vivid portrait of a young woman on a journey to find herself—and her harrowing fight for survival.

After twenty-eight years of playing by the rules, Jessica Gregory moves from her small Indiana town to Phuket, Thailand. But her newfound routine is upended with the arrival of Grant Flynn, a captivating, elusive man who is sailing around the world while trying to move on from a past tragedy. Jessica volunteers to help crew Grant’s boat, Imagine, on a passage across the Indian Ocean and finds herself falling in love with him as the voyage gets underway.

But when disaster strikes, Jessica must summon her courage as the crew is confronted by unspeakable terrors––and, aboard a boat named for such promise, comes the unimaginable.


The Unimaginable at Amazon


The driver unloaded my things onto the sidewalk and lit a cigarette as he waited for me to get out and pay him. It was then I realized I’d forgotten to convert my dollars to baht at the airport, but thankfully he accepted American money. The first thing I noticed when I emerged from the cab was the scent in the air. A wild combination of cumin, ginger, and hibiscus, infused with diesel fumes from the motorbikes and tuk-tuks whizzing by on the busy cross streets.

“Thank you,” I said to him, and heard the front door of the house open behind me. A woman nicely dressed in white Capri pants and sandals came running out. Her grayish-brown hair was in a pixie cut, and her smile made me relax for the first time in two days.

“You must be Jessica,” she said.

“Yes, hello. Mrs. Knight?” I extended my hand.

“Lovely to meet you. Now, bring your things inside, and I will show you to your room and introduce you to my husband,” she said, and walked back into the house.

Soon after I’d lost my job in Indiana, I signed up for a teacher exchange program that matches qualified educators with needy schools around the world. Once I was accepted, I’d been paired up with Mr. and Mrs. Knight through Tall Trees Academy. Certain families—Thai, British, and American—took part in the program and offered rooms for rent to people like me. The Knights were a retired American couple in their early seventies who split their time between Phuket and their native city of Houston, Texas. That was all I knew about them at that point.

The house was very nice-looking from the outside, and I was pleased with the neighborhood as well. Many of the houses in Phuket are stilt houses, built elevated back in the day to prevent flooding and keep out unwanted animals. With most of the stilt houses, the terrace is the largest part of the home, and there is often no indoor plumbing. Luckily for me, I was able to find residence in a more modernized area of the city only about twenty minutes by bicycle, my only means of transport, from the school. Bottom line, it was a far cry from the farm I grew up on.

Once inside, I placed all of my bags in the front foyer and nearly fell asleep waiting for Mrs. Knight to return. My body was reeling from culture shock, jet lag, sleep deprivation, and living my dream.

“In here, dear!”

I followed her voice to a small family room with a covered terrace. Her husband was outside reading a book and struggled to get out of his chair. He was a heavyset man with wire-rimmed glasses who smiled and waved enthusiastically when I rounded the corner.

“Why, hello there,” he said. “Aren’t you a lovely young thing?”

I hurried to him. “Thank you, I’m such a mess. I’m Jessica Gregory. It’s wonderful to meet you. I really appreciate you both so much for having me.”

“Bob Knight. Please have a seat.” He gestured to one of the chairs.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll fetch us some tea,” Mrs. Knight said.

Bob slowly sat back down and glanced at the red stain on my shirt.

“So, Jessica, tell me about yourself. Agnes mentioned you’re from Indiana.”

I thought of my life up until that moment and struggled to come up with what to say. The most interesting thing I’d ever done in my twenty-eight years was getting on that plane to Phuket. I folded my hands in my lap.

“Yes, I’m from Wolcottville. It’s about an hour east of South Bend. I went to college near there and graduated with a degree in education, and then I moved back home, where I worked as a second grade teacher,” I told him. But what I wanted to say was, “Despite the fact that I’m from a zero-stoplight town, covered in dried tomato juice, forgot to convert my money at the airport, and can’t see straight because I couldn’t sleep on a plane—having never flown on one before—I promise I’m not a complete fool!”

“Is this your first time in Thailand?”

“It is.”

“And your parents, are they still in Indiana?”

“My mom passed away a couple months ago, but yes, my father and some of my siblings are still there.” I paused and thought how little I spoke to any of them besides Caroline. My entire family could be standing at a bus stop together and would have almost nothing to say except for pleasantries.

“I’m sorry to hear that about your mother. Was she ill?”

I shook my head. “She had a heart attack.”

He made a tsk sound. “Well, isn’t that a terrible thing? I’m very sorry.”

“Thank you,” I said. I’d talked to people more about my mother in the past two months than I had in my lifetime. As the youngest of nine kids, I suffered the greatest distance from my mom, both in years and in emotional attachment. She was a strict, unemotional woman, a firm disciplinarian and a stringent Catholic who kept a ruler within reach at all times. She’d had too much sex to be a nun, so she ruled our home like a monastery instead. I glanced down at my hands and thought how much she would’ve hated the bright blue nail polish I was wearing.

Mrs. Knight brought in a tray of tea.

“Thank you so much,” I said as she filled our cups.

“You have such a lovely yard. I see you’ve started some tomato plants out back. Do you garden?” She looked out the window behind her husband. “Not so much anymore,” she said.

“I used to grow vegetables at home, so I’d be happy to help if you like.”

Mrs. Knight smiled at me. “I would like that very much.”

Her husband took a sip. “So what made you decide to leave your job in … where did you say?”

I laughed. “Wolcottville. I was let go. I was one of the younger teachers on staff, and they had to make some budget cuts. My principal was actually the person who gave me the idea of teaching abroad. He’d done it himself many years ago.” I smiled when I recalled the conversation.

Nothing had ever given me such clarity as talking with him about uprooting my entire existence to teach kids on the other side of the world.

“Anyway, the schools in Phuket, as I’m sure you know, were so profoundly affected by the tsunami that this is one of the areas that still needs the most help. Even after all these years.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re doing.”

“Perhaps you’d like to see your room. You must be tired,” Mrs. Knight added.

I sighed gratefully. “Thank you. I would love to unpack and lie down.”

My room was toward the back of the house, just behind the kitchen. The walls were painted a pale coral color, and there was a woven pink and green throw rug in the center of the wood floor. There was no closet, only a removable bookshelf-like feature and chest of drawers. It was simple yet cheerful.

“There’s a red Schwinn out back that is yours to use as long as you’re here. We don’t allow our guests to use the washer and dryer in the house, but there is a coin laundry up the road, and you may borrow the car once a week to go there. I would, however, be happy to wash your shirt for you if you’d like.”

I looked down. “That’s very nice of you but not necessary. I’ve sort of accepted defeat on this one.”

“When you’re ready, I’ll show you the space in the refrigerator and pantry that you may use. We ask that you be respectful of our things and our space and use only what is yours. You are expected to buy your own food and household items.”

“Yes, ma’am, of course. Thank you.”

She smiled, and we stared at each other for a moment. “It’s lovely to meet you, Jessica. We always enjoy having company,” she said, and closed the door behind her.

Once I was alone, I opened my computer and found the Knights’ Wi-Fi signal. I made a mental note to set up password protection for them, and then sent a quick e-mail to Caroline as promised:


I made it! The plane ride was not as bad as I thought it would be, but I was awake for most of it. Thank you for the snacks. They were a lifesaver. My hosts, Mr. and Mrs. Knight, seem like wonderful people and made me feel very welcome. I have my own little room in the back of the house, and it overlooks a beautiful little garden. I have so much to do and will admit to being a little nervous about finding my way around here, but I’m mostly excited. Once I get some rest, I’ll have a better handle on things.

Lastly, I’m sorry about how we left things. You don’t have to come to terms with anything. I’ve come to realize that despite your years of best efforts, there was never anything you could’ve done to make Mom proud of me. We never had anything in common and never would. But you are the kindest, most selfless person in our family, and we’d all be lost without you. My whole life you were my biggest cheerleader and support system, and it’s because of you that I was able to find the courage to leave. Maybe one day you’ll understand why I needed to get out of Indiana, and maybe you won’t. Either way, I love you more than anything, and I know you love me too. I’ll write again soon.


I could hardly grasp my own reality. There I was, lying on the floor with my head on a duffel bag miles from where I grew up, in a country where I couldn’t speak the language or hang an article of clothing, but I was home.

This was my home now. I couldn’t help but wonder whether I’d made the right decision. Even with weeks of planning and anticipation, nothing could prepare me for closing the door to that coral room and lying there alone. A wave of fear rippled though me, like the one you experience when you step onto a roller coaster for the first time—or an airplane. Your heart beats a little faster, and your head is spinning from trying to calculate the safest amount of risk. I closed my eyes, but my nerves had got the best of me. I was afraid, yes, but in the best possible way. Afraid of what my life would’ve become had I not taken a leap of faith. Thanks to the time difference, I awoke, wide-eyed and full of energy, at three o’clock in the morning. I was hesitant to traipse around the house at that hour, so I turned the light on and unpacked some of my things. At the first crack of dawn, I opened my door and walked out. The house was quiet, and the streets were empty and calm. I tiptoed outside to the backyard and surveyed the neglected garden. While the veggies were not so impressive, the flowers were spectacular. I was unfamiliar with the different types, but they were everywhere, showing off their vibrant colors, almost daring me not to marvel at them.

There was a small shed near a rear fence, where I found some hand tools. Mrs. Knight had done a decent job of getting the tomato plants to where they needed to be in the ground, but I could tell they were too crowded and not planted deep enough. An hour later I’d replanted them, drenched them with water, and swept the back patio. After a quick shower, I rummaged through my backpack, looking for the letters. Before I left, I’d asked some of my old students back in Indiana to write notes to the kids in Phuket and promised to start a pen pal program. I sat on the floor of my room and read through some of them. Their desire to share their favorite foods and colors and video games and questions like “Do you have McDonald’s in Tie Land?” made me miss them more than I already did.

“Is everything all right, dear?”

I heard Mrs. Knight’s voice from the door to my bedroom. I looked up at her and hadn’t even realized I was crying.


About Dina Silver

Dina Silver is an author, a wine drinker, and an excellent parallel parker. She is the author of Kat Fight, Finding Bliss, and One Pink Line, which was chosen as a 2012 Top Title by IndieReader and was a finalist in their 2012 Discovery Awards. She lives with her husband, son, and twenty-pound tabby cat in suburban Chicago. She’d prefer to live where it’s warm year round, but then she’d never stay home and write anything.


Death Comes to Pemberley – Mini-Series Review


GUEST REVIEWER – teachergirl73

I was very excited about the television adaptation of Death Comes to Pemberley which aired in early November on PBS’ Masterpiece Theatre. I had read the novel by P.D. James shortly after it was first released, and quite enjoyed the ode to Jane Austen mixed with a very well written police procedural that seemed fitting to the time. – It is the eve of the Darcys’ annual ball at their magnificent Pemberley estate. Darcy and Elizabeth, now six years married, are relaxing with their guests after supper when the festivities are brought to an abrupt halt. A scream calls them to the window and a hysterical Lydia Wickham tumbles out of a carriage shrieking, “Murder!” What follows is the somber discovery of a dead man in Pemberley woods, a brother accused of murder, and the beginning of a nightmare that will threaten to engulf Pemberley and all the Darcys hold dear.


leaf divide

I am a huge fan of Masterpiece Theatre and usually any import from across the pond is my cuppa tea, whether it is a period piece or contemporary drama. I fully expected to have the same feelings about Death Comes to Pemberley as I do about Downton Abbey or Sherlock. Sadly, instead of finding another great piece to satisfy my need for British drama, instead, I was left with disappointment. The scenery and setting were beautiful and the casting of Matthew Goode as Mr. Wickham and Jenna Coleman as Lydia Bennet was superb. Coleman’s performance as Lydia, might be the best interpretation of the character that I have ever seen.  It truly was a gifted performance. Goode’s take on Mr. Wickham was also very well done, pulling off the dashing, young cad beautifully.

The Wickhams as protrayed by Matthew Goode and Jenna Coleman in Death Comes to Pemberley

As for the lord and lady of the manor, from almost the beginning, I found that the relationship between Mr. Darcy and his wife Elizabeth, played by Matthew Rhys and Anna Maxwell Martin lacked any real connection. They were not the happily married couple with a young family that we found in James’ novel and as we would expect to find in the years following the original story of Pride and Prejudice. Instead, I found the relationship between Darcy and Elizabeth without any passion, and once the crisis hit, Darcy’s attitude towards his wife was simply unbelievable. To say that it was ungentlemanly would be a severe understatement.

After the first part of the series aired, I was very puzzled by the direction that the creators of the show decided to take, but I still held out hope that in the second night, the series would pull it together and demonstrate a credible reason for the disintegration of the Darcys’ marriage. It did not, and when at the end the writers decided it was time to wrap up everything with a nice, neat, tidy little bow, the reconciliation between Darcy and Elizabeth was not even remotely believable. In the novel, Darcy and Elizabeth stand together as a united front in the chaos that followed the aftermath of a murder on the grounds of Pemberley right through to the subsequent trial.

James, P.D. Death Comes to Pemberley, Toronto: Vintage Canada, 2012, p. 105.

Even if you hadn’t read the novel prior to watching the mini-series, I still feel like most Pride and Prejudice fans would be confused with Mr. Darcy’s openly hostile behaviour towards his wife throughout most of the show. This point prevented me from getting any real enjoyment out of the series because it felt so false.

The Darcys as protrayed by Matthew Rhys and Anna Maxwell Martin in the series.

So, you win some and you lose some…I’ll just have to wait for the return of Downton Abbey on Sunday, January 4th, 2015, and in the meantime, I’ll just re-watch Pride and Prejudice over the holidays.


Trailer Reveal – The Letting by Cathrine Goldstein

What if the Devil doesn’t know he’s the Devil?
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the lettingThe Letting

Release Date: 12/15/14
335 pages
Summary from Goodreads:
What if the Devil doesn’t know he’s the Devil?This is the question Veronica
“Ronnie” Billings poses to Phoenix, her sworn enemy, the leader of the Peaceful Revolution, and the one she loves.
Kidnapped by Phoenix’s rebels, Ronnie learns how wrong she has
been. She had no idea that her patriotism was wasted on a corrupt government. Ronnie was proud to be a Leader; taking hundreds of harvested girls to the Letting facility. After all, she was saving them from future Couplings and bringing them to the safety of the New World. Or so she thought…


Confused, Ronnie realizes the only way to discover the truth is to trust her heart. Together, Phoenix and Ronnie devise a plan to stop their corrupt government and pre-empt the dangerous rebel coup which is approaching. But when their plan goes awry, will Ronnie be
strong enough to save Phoenix, her country, and herself?

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About the Author

cathrine goldsteinGiven my love for cities and all that is gritty, my new obsession with trees really has me stumped. (Sorry.) Maybe it’s because trees are the inspiration behind my new YA/NA novel, The LETTING.

Whatever the reason for my new infatuation, some things remain constant — like my love for: coffee (although sadly, it’s now decaf); yoga; Luna bars (I am petitioning for them to bring back Chocolate Raspberry!); running in my neighborhood; Hemingway; Bukowski… and, above all, my husband and my girls.I am the author of the bestselling novel, Sleeping With Mortals: The Story of a New York Mistress, and I’m also a playwright. I have my B.A. in English and my M.A. in Theatre.
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You Were Mine – Abbi Glines NOW AVAILABLE!

We’re celebrating the release of YOU WERE MINE  by New York Times, USA TODAYand Wall Street Journal bestselling author Abbi Glines! 



TitleYou Were Mine (Rosemary Beach)

Author: Abbi Glines

Publisher: Atria Books (December 2, 2014)


Amazon | BN | Kobo | iTunes

From #1 “New York Times “bestselling author Abbi Glines comes a brand-new Rosemary Beach novel about Tripp Newark and his hidden romantic past with Bethy Lowry.

In the eyes of the wealthy playboys who frequent Kerrington Country Club in Rosemary Beach, Tripp Newark is a hero. Under pressure from his parents to become a lawyer and lead a conservative, upper-class life, Tripp disappeared from town five years ago to travel the world, forfeiting the opportunity to inherit millions. Yet few know what he was really running from…

Bethy Lowry was unraveling long before her boyfriend drowned in a riptide trying to save her after she’d had one too many drinks–again. A trailer park kid working as a cart girl among the wealthy patrons of Kerrington Country Club, Bethy has always been impressionable. But five years ago, before she earned her reputation as a hard-drinking, easy girl, she had spent a single summer with Tripp Newark that changed her life forever…




Present Day

I sat on my Harley and waited for Bethy to walk out of the clubhouse. Woods had been texting me Bethy’s work schedule every two weeks, and I made sure she made it home from work safely every night. It wasn’t stalking her, exactly. It was just the only way I could remain sane.

Watching over her was all I had. If I got too close, she flipped. The last time I’d tried to talk to her, she’d started screaming. I hadn’t been able to calm her down. I was watching her lose herself slowly. And it was tearing me up.

So I followed her to work everyday, and I followed her home every night. Once she was safely in her apartment, I often sat parked across the road and watched her window until it went dark. She never looked at me, even though I wasn’t hiding the fact I was following her. There was no use in hiding it from her.

The last words she’d actually spoken to me -not screamed at me, because there’d been a lot of that- had been eighteen months ago on the beach when we’d lost Jace. My cousin, my best friend, and the love of Bethy’s life. He’d drowned saving her life when she’d wandered into the ocean drunk and got caught in a riptide. Losing him had taken a part of my soul. He’d been the little brother I never had. He’d been the good Newark heir. He’d been everything I should have been but wasn’t.

And we had loved the same girl. Although he never knew it.

Watching her pull away from life more and more each day was so damn hard. Jace wouldn’t have wanted this. He would have hated it. He loved her more than he loved himself. Seeing her like this would break his heart.

Bethy swung her long dark hair over her shoulder as she stepped out of the clubhouse. The shorts she wore had once been tight and cupped her perfect round bottom. But just like she’d lost the will to live, she’d also lost weight. Too much.

The need to hold her and help her heal was so fucking strong. But she didn’t want me. I hadn’t realized how badly she hated me until I’d returned to Rosemary Beach a little more than two years ago. I’d run like hell eight years ago from a life threatening to suffocate me. My father wanted something for me that I didn’t want, and I hadn’t been able to see my way out.

I had been eighteen years old and scared, because in three short months, one sixteen-year-old girl had become my sole concern in life. Bethy had stolen my heart the summer I met her at Rush’s party. When I’d been ready to throw away the life I’d been planning for the past year in order to be with her, my father had reminded me of just how much control he had over me.

I wouldn’t have been able to keep Bethy if I’d stayed. That wasn’t the life he’d let me have. So I’d run, hoping that when I came back in two years, when she was old enough, I could take her with me. But first, I’d needed to escape.

I watched as Bethy opened the door to her old beat-up Ford Taurus and climbed inside. The stiff way she held herself and the way she kept her focus turned away from me told me she knew I was here. She expected me to be there.

Once she would have broken into the biggest, most beautiful smile in the world and run into my arms. But that was the past. I had broken that. I had broken her, and I hadn’t even known.



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Life In The No Dating Zone – Patricia B. Tighe RELEASE DAY!

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Life in the No Dating ZoneLife In The No Dating Zone
Release Date: 12/02/14
Swoon Romance

Summary from Goodreads:
After surviving her parents’ relationship drama when her older sister elopes, Claire Gardner vows not to date during high school. Now, three years later, Claire is thrust into new relationship drama–her two best friends have boyfriends. Which means Claire is spending more and more time alone. And she’s more than a little peeved. Enter Gray Langley. His year-long crush on Claire’s friend Lindsey has made him desperate enough to ask Claire for help. Hesitant at first, Claire agrees–anything to get rid of Lindsey’s current evil boyfriend. But as Claire and Gray plot together, an attraction develops, and now she must decide if being with Gray is worth the pain that will come from confronting her parents with the reasons for her vow.


The next morning I felt a lot better. I’d had my afternoon of feeling sorry for myself and it was over. Time to move on. Yeah, I’d felt jealous of Rose’s new relationship, but I was over it. Sort of. I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I didn’t want her to be happy. I supposed I was mature enough to handle any changes that might come from Rose having a boyfriend.
The doorbell rang. I started to get up, but remembered Mom was down there with Jack. I went back to the novel I was reading. But then her voice came ringing up the stairs. “Claire, you have company!”
Uh-oh. I jumped up. Grayson. Or Gray. Was it already eleven o’clock? I’d completely lost track of time. “Coming,” I yelled.
I yanked on a pair of shorts, brushed ginger cookie crumbs off my T-shirt, then went to the mirror to make sure there were none in my teeth. I tried to smooth down my hair, but I had serious bed-head, so I pulled it into a ponytail. I didn’t even have makeup on. But whatever. He was here for advice, not to take me out. That wasn’t even an option, anyway.
I jogged downstairs, figuring I shouldn’t leave him in my mother’s clutches any longer than necessary. She could get someone’s life history in about three minutes. I peeked around the kitchen doorway. Gray sat at the kitchen table next to Baby Jack in his high chair. My mom was putting the iced tea pitcher back in the fridge.
Gray wore basketball shorts, a Notre Dame T-shirt, and flip-flops. His dark blond sun- streaked hair poked out in different places. I’d never seen it like that. In fact, it hit me he was really tan. Normal, of course, for the summer, but I hadn’t realized he was such an outdoorsy guy.


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About the Author
I’m not the writer who’s been writing for as long as she can remember. In fact, I didn’t start writing fiction until I was almost thirty. But, I’ve always been a reader. Which, of course, is one of the basic requirements for being a writer. I’ve read everything from horse novels and spy thrillers to historical romance and fantasy sagas—and lots in between. There’s something wondrous about picking up a book and entering a new world with new adventures. And I don’t plan on stopping any time soon.
When I’m not reading, I hang out with my husband and two old dogs, plus my grown sons whenever I get the chance. In the fall I spend way too much time yelling at my TV while watching football. I’m also addicted to British TV shows. Top Gear, anyone? Oh, yeah. And I write. Kissing books. Or at least books that include kissing. Hope you enjoy them!


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The Unimaginable – Dina Silver REVIEW & GIVEAWAY!


We’re celebrating the release of The Unimaginable by Dina Silver! Check out the excerpt below and enter to win a Kindle Paperwhite! 


Title: The Unimaginable

Author: Dina Silver

Age Group: Adult

Genre: Contemporary Romance/Mystery/Suspense


SYNOPSIS: From the author of One Pink Line comes a story about letting go of the past and finding bravery in the depths of fear. Set on the sun-soaked beaches of Thailand and the rough waters of the Indian Ocean, The Unimaginable paints a vivid portrait of a young woman on a journey to find herself—and her harrowing fight for survival.

After twenty-eight years of playing by the rules, Jessica Gregory moves from her small Indiana town to Phuket, Thailand. But her newfound routine is upended with the arrival of Grant Flynn, a captivating, elusive man who is sailing around the world while trying to move on from a past tragedy. Jessica volunteers to help crew Grant’s boat, Imagine, on a passage across the Indian Ocean and finds herself falling in love with him as the voyage gets underway. But when disaster strikes, Jessica must summon her courage as the crew is confronted by unspeakable terrors––and, aboard a boat named for such promise, comes the unimaginable.



The Unimaginable was quite simply a really good story. Sometimes when a book is elegantly plotted and characterized so very skilfully there isn’t much to say beyond that. The Unimaginable was just such a book for me. When the opportunity to read and review it came up I couldn’t resist the beautiful cover and I was not at all disappointed by the compelling story within. Jessica is the youngest of nine children, born eight years after her mother believed she was done having babies. Ultimately it was her sister twenty two years her senior who served as a mother figure. Though it is her distant mother’s death that serves as a catalyst for Jessica to abandon the last ties of her small town and seek adventure in Thailand.

Losing her teaching position and her mother’s death give Jessica the impetus to follow her dream of exploring the world. She arrives in Phuket, Thailand determined to live her life on her own terms. Jessica is soon totally immersed in her new home teaching English at a local school and working as a waitress in the evenings. The story itself is liberally peppered with a cast of interesting characters who perfectly compliment the exotic locale. Rather coincidentally she comes to know Grant Flynn, who is sailing around the world. Jessica is fascinated with the mysterious Grant and endeavours to join his crew for a leg of the journey despite the risks involved.

The Unimaginable was a subtly good read reeling the reader in slowly and expertly. I found myself reading late into the night enjoying the depictions of exotic Thailand and the lure of the sea. In lieu of a sailing trip or perhaps as an accompaniment I would highly recommend The Unimaginable.



“Excuse me.”

My thoughts were elsewhere when I heard a man’s voice and then looked up from the dustpan to see him standing at my classroom door. His voice was strong and captivating, much like the rest of him.

“Can I help you?” I asked, and we locked eyes. His smile made me catch my breath.

“Sorry to interrupt. I would like to make a donation to the school.”

I brushed some loose hairs out of my eyes. “How are you with a broom?”

“Horrible.” He looked around. “But I’m a great storyteller.”

He was older than me, late thirties maybe, with rugged good looks. I guessed it’d been at least two days since he shaved. But he was tall and strikingly handsome, and his comment piqued my interest.

“Maybe you’d like to come to one of my classes and share your stories.”

He cocked his head and rubbed the back of his neck, then nodded. “Okay, you’re on.”

My face lit up. “Really? I didn’t think you’d actually say yes.”

“Then why’d you ask?” I let out a small laugh.

“I would love to.” He took a couple steps closer. “You look familiar,” he said with a knowing glance.

“I do?”

“Yes.” He crossed his arms. “I just said you did.”

I shrugged and then leaned the broom against the desk and extended my hand. “I’m Jessica. I’m a teacher here, and also the assistant director.”

He shook my hand, and I felt it in my heart.

“Grant Flynn. Nice to meet you, Jessica. You’re American?”

“I sure am. Sounds like you are as well.”

He nodded. “How long have you been in Thailand?”

“About four months.”

“Have you been with the school the whole time?” he asked.

“I have. It’s been a wonderful experience.”

He crossed his arms again and studied me. “I see,” he said, not taking his eyes off of me. “Are you the right person to talk to about making a donation? I’d like to leave a check if that’s all right.”

“Of course, yes.”

He grabbed his checkbook from his front pocket and pulled a pen from behind his ear. His presence put my nerves on high alert, and the irony that I was behaving like a giddy schoolgirl was not lost on me either.

“Thank you, Mr. Flynn. This is very kind of you.”

Many visitors to Phuket would come by the local schools and leave donations. It was sort of a ritual for some, a way to leave their mark, a gesture of kindness for many boaters to visit the schools and bring supplies or leave a small contribution of a hundred dollars or so.

“Please call me Grant,” he said as he wrote.

I stood behind him dusting myself off when Sophie walked in.

“Hey, mate, what are you doing here?” she asked.

Both Grant and I looked at her, but he answered. “Told you I was going to come by this week.”

“Right. You met my girl, Jess, did ya?”

He turned to me. “I did. She was helping me decide whether my donation should be manual labor or monetary, but I’m going to stick with my original plan.”

He tore the check out and handed it to me.

“You two know each other?” I asked.

“Grant’s been coming in to The Islander all week,” she said.

He pointed at me. “That’s where I know you from.”

I nodded. “Thank you,” I said, taking the check from him. “I’ll see that our director gets this today, and I look forward to hearing your stories.”

I glanced down and nearly gasped when I saw the check was for five thousand dollars.

“I appreciate it.” He touched my shoulder. “See you later,” he said to Sophie, then waved his hand over his head and walked out, allowing me to breathe freely once again.

Sophie and I went to the window and watched as he got into his rental car.

“You know him from the bar?” I asked.

“He and his mate have been coming in every night. I’m surprised you haven’t seen them. They’re docked at the marina, both Americans.”

“Niran had me on lunches last week.”

“He’s a charmer, eh?”

I nodded. “And quite generous.”

“How generous?” she asked.

“Five thousand dollars generous.”

“Shit, no,” she said, and whisked the check from my grip. “Skylar’s going to freak. You working tonight?”

“Nope. Not until Saturday.”

“All right then. See you later,” she said, and left.

I picked the broom up and saw the bus arrive, but all I could think about was Grant Flynn. When I came to school the next morning there was a package at the front door with my name on it. Inside were two DustBusters and a note that read:

These are more my speed. I’ll see you in class tomorrow morning.




(1) Kindle Paperwhite and signed prints of: KAT FIGHT, ONE PINK LINE, FINDING BLISS, and THE UNIMAGINABLE (US)


Dina Silver is an author, a wine drinker, and an excellent parallel parker. She is the author of Kat Fight, Finding Bliss, and One Pink Line, which was chosen as a 2012 Top Title by Indie Reader and was a finalist in their 2012 Discovery Awards. She lives with her husband, son, and twenty-pound tabby cat in suburban Chicago. She’d prefer to live where it’s warm year round, but then she’d never stay home and write anything.

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