- 2^nd Chance steered the ship throughout the night, eyes fixed on the horizon. As the sun rose, her goal appeared ahead of them. She grinned, catching a glimpse of the Captain leaving the warmth of her cabin. They’d all be so surprised! And she hoped, pleased.

- Captain Hellion yawned hugely then stared at the unfamiliar tropical beach on the port side. The Revenge slid up to the wooden pier as Chance let out a whoop and dashed for the side. The anchor slid home, the deckhands lowered the sails. Chance scurried off the ship.

 -Sin sidled up to the Cap’n, “Where are we, Hel?” The undead monkey screeched, his tail curled around her neck. She stroked the little imp, calming him.

 -“No idea, Chance asked to hold the wheel last night. I thought she just wanted to pretend. I didn’t give her leave to move the ship,” Hel shrugged. “Looks nice…”

 -Terrio stretched as she joined the other two at the rail, “Uh…? Who is that hugging Chance?”

- “Nice suit,” Marnee commented. “White is a bit impractical though.”

 -Hel suddenly stood up straighter, “Oh. I don’t believe it. Is that a lei and a…a little person heading this way?”

- The faint echo of a voice confirmed the Captain’s suspicions. “Da ship! Da ship!” She groaned, “How did she do this?”

- “Fantasy Island? We’re anchored at Fantasy Island?” Lisa lifted her tankard and drank deeply. “Oh, she has been going on about Ricardo Montalban lately…”

- The crew watched as the elegant man leaned closer to speak to Chance, who appeared to actually simper. Sin snorted, “How old is she anyway?”

- Hel shook her head, “Polite pirates don’t ask.”

- “Twelve?” Marnee ventured a guess. The rest chuckled.

- At the edge of the shore, Mr. Rourke smiled at Chance, “Your fantasy awaits…” Chance dashed off, laughing madly as he continued out the pier to greet the rest of the crew. Chance had bargained well… The Fantasy Island bartender had insisted on the trade. A copy of Chance’s bartender book for a day on Fantasy Island for the entire crew. He actually looked forward to trying a Glittery Hoohaa…

Chance’s Fantasy…

…Paul’s wife had forced him to leave all his files behind. She wanted him to have a real vacation. She really didn’t understand the draw of discovering new talent, of mentoring an author through the labyrinth of the publishing world. But she meant well. She’d sent him ahead, planning on joining him for the second week. He was on his own, with a week to relax and enjoy the beaches of the famous Monterey Bay.

For a few days, he had relaxed. She’d made him swear not to open any e-mails from the agency, his authors or publishers. He’d read several books, authors his competitors had signed on, wandered downtown Santa Cruz and visited the Boardwalk. But now he was bored. He strode into the Starbucks he’d discovered. It was close to his hotel, had a nice patio and a roomy interior. He took the chair he’d come to consider his and studied the people around him. One woman caught his attention. She was there every morning, typing away at her small laptop. She was very intent.

The computer was a sweet little thing and she’d decorated it with a bright display of parrots, a small pirate ship and a treasure chest. She was friendly with the baristas and appeared to be a real fixture. Yesterday, he’d actually visited a bookstore and returned several hours later to see her still perched on the wooden chair, a melted bit of drink still at her side, typing madly. This morning seemed the same.

She chuckled and it made him smile. “Must be a nice e-mail,” he commented to the barista, wiping a nearby table.

“Our internet is down today,” the young woman answered, following his gaze. “Oh, that’s Maureen. She’s a writer. She told me once about her book. Pirates, a time traveling witch…sounds exciting. I hope she’ll let me read it one day. Said she’d dedicate it to all of us here. If she ever finds a publisher!”

“That’s does sound like an intriguing story,” he chuckled. The barista wandered away, he sipped at his coffee and studied the would-be author. His wife liked pirates, he’d be doing it for her… Taking the situation in hand, he stood up, strode with purpose to the author’s table and sat down, “Good morning.”

She glanced up at him, looking a bit distracted. She blinked, “Uh…good morning. Can I help you?”

“I’m good, but I may be able to help you,” he held out one of his business cards. “I hear you have a pirate book you’re hoping to see published…”

She took the card, reading it with some disbelief. Paul Winterfield – Literary Agent, New York, New York

“I can help. Let’s talk…” he smiled.

Slowly, she smiled back at him. She’d always told Judi she wanted to be discovered in her local Starbucks…

OK, that’s my big fantasy of discovery. Let’s hear what you’d ask Mr. Rourke to devise for you. Come on, dream big. Be outrageous, be imaginative. Let Fantasy Island make all your dreams come true… And if you don’t dream of being published, but meeting the author of your dreams…what is that dream? Nora in the elevator? Sitting next to Kim Harrison on a 4 hour flight? Anything is possible!