Tattered Innocence

By Ann Lee Miller

A tale of passions indulged, denied, and ultimately forgiven:
On the verge of bagging the two things he wants most—a sailing charter business and marrying old money—Jake Murray’s fiancée/sole crew member dumps him. Salvation comes in the form of dyslexic, basketball toting Rachel Martin, the only one to apply for the first mate position he slapped on craigslist.
On a dead run from an affair with a married man, Rachel's salvation is shoving ocean between her and temptation.
Rapid fire dialogue and romantic tension sail Jake’s biker-chick of a boat through hurricanes, real and figurative. A cast of wannabe sailors, Rachel’s ex, Jake’s, a baby—go along for the ride.
The many-layered story weaves together disparate strands into a seamless cord. Mother and daughter look eerily alike—down to their lusts. Their symbiotic bond, forged in the blood of childbirth on the kitchen floor and cemented by their secrets, must be cracked open. A son must go home. Sin must be expunged.
Tattered Innocence is for anyone who’s ever woken up sealed in a fifty-gallon drum of their guilt.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ann Lee Miller
• Release date: Feb 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301386918

Ann Lee Miller

Ann Lee Miller earned a BA in creative writing from Ashland (OH) University and writes full-time in Phoenix, but left her heart in New Smyrna Beach, Florida, where she grew up. She loves speaking to young adults and guest lectures on writing at several Arizona colleges. When she isn’t writing or muddling through some crisis-real or imagined-you’ll find her hiking in the Superstition Mountains with her husband or meddling in her kids’ lives. Over 100,000 copies of Miller’s debut novel, Kicking Eternity, have been downloaded from online retailers.

Book preview

Glossary of Sailing Terms

Aft—a part of the boat at or near the rear

Amidships—in or toward the center of the boat

Ballast—weight stowed in the keel (bottom of the boat) to stabilize the boat upright

Barnacles—small, hard-shelled marine animals that cling to any surface submerged in saltwater

Bimini—tarp shading the cockpit

Boom—horizontal beam attached to the mast and bottom edge of the mainsail

Bow—the front of the boat

Bowsprit—plank that extends beyond the bow to anchor rigging.

Bulkhead—an upright partition separating rooms of a ship

Buoy—floating stationary marker that indicates a channel or underwater hazard

Can—a green buoy shaped like a cylinder

Chart—nautical map

Chock—a guide for an anchor, mooring or docking line, attached to the deck

Cleat—a fitting used to secure ropes

Coaming—backrest that encloses the cockpit, running between the main cabin and the after cabin

Cockpit—area from which the boat is sailed containing the wheel and engine controls

Companionway—a stair or ladder leading from inside a boat to the deck

Dinghy—ship's small rowboat

Dock box—all-weather storage box anchored to the dock, roughly the size of a cedar chest

Drink—a slang reference to a body of water

Dry Dock—location where boats are removed from water for repairs

Fender—A soft plastic cylinder used to protect the boat from bumping against the dock

Fiberglass—a cloth, when coupled with resin and hardener, that adds strength and protection for the hull from the elements

Finger pier—narrow dock that extends along the side of a boat

Forestay—wire support for the mast, running from the bowsprit to a point at the

top of the mast

Gangplank—a ramp leading from dock to boat to facilitate boarding

Genoa—a large jib or staysail

Gunwale—upper edge of a ship’s side

Halyard—the rope that hauls up the sail

Head—ship's bathroom

Hatch—entryway into the cabin of a boat, usually a slab of wood or fiberglass that slides open and shut

Helm—the wheel by which a ship is steered

Hull—the body of the boat

Jack Stands—props that keep a boat upright in dry dock

Jib—the foremost sail of a ship

Keel—a fin down the centerline of the bottom of the hull

Ketch—A two-masted fore-and-aft-rigged sailing vessel with a mizzen mast stepped aft of a taller mainmast, but forward of the rudder

Knot—a nautical unit of speed equaling l.l5 MPH

Lifeline—a wire guardrail surrounding the deck to prevent people from falling overboard

Luff—the flapping of untrimmed sails

Mainmast—the taller mast positioned toward the front of the boat

Mainsail—the largest sail attached to the mainmast

Mast—the tall pole holding up the sails

Mizzen Mast—The shorter of the masts, located toward the rear of the boat

Nun—a red buoy shaped like a cone

Piling—a long heavy beam driven into the ground underwater to support a dock

Port—left, as a sailor faces forward; the opposite of starboard/right

Porthole—window on a ship, usually round in shape

Pram—a small rectangular dinghy

Resin—a waterproofing substance, used to coat fiberglass cloth on the hull of a ship

Salon—living area of the main cabin

Scuppers—drains that enable water to run off the boat’s deck

Seawall—wall erected along the shore to prevent erosion

Sheet—the rope used to control the sail

Shroud—wire cable that holds the mast up from both sides of the boat

Slip—parking slot for a boat tied to a dock in a marina

Sole—the floor of a cabin

Sounding—measuring the depth of the water

Starboard—right as a sailor faces forward, the opposite of port/left

Staysail—A triangular sail hoisted on a stay/wire

Stern—the rear of the boat

Tacking—a zigzag course when sailing upwind

Transom—the rear of the boat

Travel Lift—a mobile crane used for lifting boats out of the water for repairs

Utility lines—water and electric lines running from dock to boat

Wake—disturbed water left behind a moving boat

Chapter 1

Rachel hot-footed it across the glittering sand of the Dolphin View Restaurant lot, too-new sandals clenched in her hand. The denim of her skirt caught her knees and shortened her stride. She slowed her breath. Hyperventilating wouldn’t help her ace this interview, and crewing on The Smyrna Queen was her only way out.

Worn work boots appeared on the dirty sand in front of her. Rachel?

Her gaze panned upward over faded jeans, carpenter’s belt, paint-splattered T-shirt, and stopped at toffee eyes trained on her. Her breath hitched. She’d been prepared for an old-salt captain, not a Diet Coke commercial. Hot granules scorched the soles of her feet, and she burrowed one foot toward cooler sand and balanced the other on a big toe.

She held out her hand, squinting at him. Rachel Martin. Her heart hammered like it had when she interviewed for her first and only job—high school athletic secretary—five years ago. But she only had to convince him she could sail, not manage details for nineteen sports.

He glanced at her hand but didn’t take it. A muscle tensed in his jaw. Jake Murray.

Palm fronds rustled in the May breeze.

She dropped her hand, swallowing his slight, and burrowed deeper in the dirty sand with her toes. First mate was the only job listed in the Hometown News classifieds she qualified for, and she needed this job to untangle herself from Bret. Why had she thought doing the right thing would be easy?

His pale curls moved in a puff of hot breeze as he frowned at her bare feet. I’m starved. Let’s go inside. A halo of chin stubble sparkled in the sun. He shoved his hands into his pockets and strode toward the restaurant, his shoulders hunched.

The screen door banged behind him. A weather-beaten Best Fried Seafood on the Florida Atlantic Coast creaked on a sign overhead.

Rachel marched toward the smells of grease and fish. She dropped her sandals on the Dolphin-shaped mat, slid gritty feet into them, and pushed through the fingerprint-smeared door.

At three, the place was empty, except for a woman peeling shrimp in front of the fan, her support hose rolled into knee-highs. She tossed each shrimp into a huge stainless steel bowl, like morsels of wisdom she’d collected from living.

Rachel fought the urge to drag a chair over and pour out her messed-up life.

Jake moved from the counter, through the back door, to the outdoor seating without casting a glance in her direction.

The counter guy scratched the grouper tattoo on his bicep and yelled, One super-deluxe combo basket, two sweet teas.

At least he ordered something I like. And paid for it. She stepped onto the deck and spotted Jake facing the seawall where a beater fishing boat was moored.

His fingers drummed on the picnic table, his eyes slits above an anchor-hard jaw.

Rachel slid onto the wooden bench across from him.

He coughed and glowered at her as if it were her fault she’d caught him brooding.

Okay, so there were worse things than an emo boss.

Jake pierced her with his eyes. Sail?

Everything rode on this answer. She took a deep breath. My dad taught me and my brother to sail. I was the one who caught the bug. I have a Sunfish stowed on a friend’s lawn on the Indian River. Sail every chance I get. I’ve piloted a Catalina 27 a couple of times. If he was looking for big boat experience, she was screwed. When you learn on a small boat, you have to grasp wind dynamics to stay out of the drink. It makes you a better sailor. Her voice went up at the end as if she doubted her own theory.

The grouper-tattooed guy plunked a heaping basket of seafood in the middle of the table with one hand and set down Styrofoam cups with the other. He wiped thick fingers on his starched apron. Enjoy.

The aroma made her mouth water.

Jake bit into a piece of fish and cast his eyes toward the awning shading them. A moan of pleasure escaped as he chewed.

She twisted curls up off her neck to let the breeze off the Intracoastal dry the sweat as she popped a scallop into her mouth. She sat back to savor the Dolphin’s magic and Jake’s improved mood.

Jake sprinkled the basket, and salt danced on the grease paper. "Why do you want to crew on The Smyrna Queen?"

Rachel gazed at tiny whitecaps the wind kicked up on the water. I want to taste the salt spray on a long tack. I want to live the ocean’s moods—summer squalls, flat as glass without a breath of wind, even the big blows. I want water between me and—New Smyrna Beach. She wished she could bite back the words. Jake didn’t need to know she was running.

Jake cocked a brow.

Don’t ask.

He shrugged and leaned his elbows on the rough wood of the table. "The Smyrna Queen is a sixty-eight-foot ketch. She was built thirty-one years ago, according to her plumbing fittings."

Rachel stared at the pale hair curling on Jake’s forearms, willing him not to notice how desperate she was. How big is your crew?

Jake flattened his lips. Two. Captain, first mate.

Two people can sail a sixty-eight-foot boat?

I billed the cruises as ‘hands-on,’ so we’ll get help from the guests. Besides, I rigged her to be sailed by two people when necessary. Jake wiped his mouth and tossed his napkin onto the table. "The Queen’s booked through the end of the year, mostly five-day vacation cruises starting two weeks from today."

You filled your cruises in this sleepy little town? Amazing.

I majored in marketing.

I majored in boredom. The defense mechanism to hide her dyslexia and lack of college kicked in before she realized she’d spoken, and she cringed.

Jake’s fingers drummed again on the planks of the table. Does crewing bore you?

I haven’t been this wowed since an accordion player marched up the center aisle at church. Had she come down with Tourette’s? If she didn’t put a lid on her sarcasm, she’d sabotage the interview.

Jake’s eyes iced over. Another church girl.

She lifted one shoulder. Her stomach quivered with panic. After all her lip, would she lose the job because she’d grown up in church? That was almost laughable. If anyone was a poster-girl for bad choices, she was.

Jake stared at her as if she were a rotting fantailed mullet.

She squirmed on her bench, feeling like he could see inside her. See that she’d let her innocence go too easily. That she’d never recover the five-and-a-half-year-old who pressed her gooey, newborn brother in chubby arms against her Cinderella T-shirt.

He blew out a breath. Fifteen wannabes bailed over the phone when they heard cooking was part of the job. What about you?

I have a shoe box full of yellow ribbons from 4-H cooking competitions.

Yellow?

Take it or leave it. She was trying to shove her way out of something she shouldn’t have flirted with in the first place. But if Jake wouldn’t be shoved….

He shifted on his bench. His eyes darted around the deck and the tiki bar. The door banged behind a man with a white ponytail and an earring hooked through the brown leather of his ear.

All the bunks are rented out except for my cabin.

Rachel’s gaze snapped to Jake’s. So, if I want this job— Across the deck two teens she recognized from the high school plunked down. Rachel lowered her voice to a whisper. I have to sleep with you? I thought I’d heard all the lines from B―

I’m talking about a job—nothing more. His eyes darkened to granite. His look said she’d sprouted cystic acne and two hundred pounds. You’d have to share a small cabin with me, but you would have your own sleeping area and as much privacy as possible. Do you want the job or not?

Well, okay, then, as long as we understand each other. But he’d made her mad. I told you on the phone I wanted the job. She forced the hard edge out of her voice. I haven’t changed my mind.

He let out his breath. If I hire you, you’ll need to plan the week’s menu, grocery shop―

I think I know all the steps in cooking. What was with her passive-aggressive mouth? This job would give her a clean start. But part of her clawed for Bret.

He eyed her. I’ll let you know about the job. He stood, tossed bills on the table for the tip, and walked away.

She watched his back lumber around the corner of the building, a wrestler leaving the mat. All the air released from her lungs. Who had pinned whom?

Chapter 2

Rigging thrummed against each mast in the steady wind. Rachel glanced over her shoulder and down the pier. Did the sun catch on the bumper of a moving car? Her hand went to the silver heart on a chain around her neck. She shaded her eyes and squinted through the bobbing boats out to the blacktop.

The chain dug into the flesh on the back of her neck.

No. Bret probably didn’t even know she’d quit at the high school.Why would he come after her? She swallowed the disappointment stuck in her throat and continued walking out the graying boards of the dock.

Beyond, clouds raced across the Intracoastal.

She scanned the boats lining the pier for the Smyrna Queen. There. Her eyes stopped at bold black letters on a freshly painted aqua hull four slips ahead. She took a step closer. Then two. Was she really going to do this? Her duffel’s cord knifed into her shoulder, and she shifted the bag. If only it were as easy to dislodge the still-raw sin inside her.

Her gaze flicked up the mismatched aluminum and wood masts and down over the Smyrna Queen’s wide middle and boxy cabins to the chipping rust-red paint beneath her waterline—a biker-chick dressed for the prom. The merest hint of comfort fluttered under her ribs. In some weird way, the boat’s less than pristine condition reminded her of herself.

Rachel squared her shoulders and stepped aboard, half expecting the Queen to belch motor oil and hemp. But there was only the sway of the deck under her feet—and a cradling of sorts, as though the Queen, too, recognized their kinship.

Voices drifted from beneath the cockpit tarp in the center of the boat. Rachel stopped beside the aft cabin, not wanting to interrupt. Jake leaned against the main cabin ten feet from her. His corkscrew blond curls didn’t fit his brooding expression, the same one he’d worn for her interview. A faded O’Neill T-shirt with a hole ripped in one sleeve hugged him as if he’d been wearing it since his teens. It wasn’t a bad look, but she couldn’t drum up any appreciation for a guy who’d been rude every time she’d spoken to him.

A vein pulsed in Jake’s neck as he spoke in low tones to a young woman whose henna hair Clairol would pay thousands to reproduce. But I thought you showed up today, on what was supposed to be our wedding day, because you reconsidered.

Thin brows knitted in the woman’s heart-shaped face. She wrung milky, manicured hands, then ran a knuckle under the mascara of her lashes. Her pink earrings—the exact shade of her silk blouse—bounced when she moved. She reminded Rachel of a perfect porcelain doll swathed in layers of pink petticoats.

Rachel shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Should she clear her throat to let them know she’d come aboard? Across the finger pier, a Willie Nelson lookalike stood in his companionway, shoving an inner tube into a bike tire.

Jake’s gaze bore into the woman. He ran the back of his hand across her cheek. I love you, Gabrielle.

The anguish in Jake’s voice yanked Rachel out of her pain and into his in the space of a breath. She edged toward the stern, wanting to be anywhere but listening to this conversation. She stood inches from the aft cabin hatch, but if she slid it open, she’d call attention to herself.

Part of her brain registered Gabrielle’s silence. If Gabrielle loved Jake, she’d say it now. The seconds ticked by. Rachel stared at the South of the Mouth Café boat, anchored at marker thirty-five across the Intracoastal, then bent over her duffle bag and stuck one hand through the opening as if digging for something vital. Jake had only hired her four days ago. Would his drama jeopardize her job?

The corner of the greeting card she’d tucked into her duffle at the last minute poked the tender skin on the inside of her wrist. A teaspoon of relief eased through her. At least she didn’t have to give up her memories.

She wouldn’t let Ms. Hot Rollers elbow her out. God, I need this job. It wasn’t really a prayer, but she knew, as surely as her name was Rachel Luann Martin, God wanted her far away from New Smyrna Beach this summer and far away from the high school in the fall.

Tell me you’ll think about getting back together.

Rachel cringed at the desperation in Jake’s voice.

I—I can’t. Gabrielle’s words sounded brittle like the thin edge of an icemaker cube. She gazed toward the squatty, stone Washington Street Bridge. I’ve dreamed of becoming a teacher since I was a little girl. When I was a child, Sister Sheila let me make Popsicle houses on the corner of her desk during lunch. She invited me and Paola to the convent for supper and board games. She made up for Mother’s aloofness—

I thought your mother was just that way with me.

Gabrielle shook her head. I’ve always wanted to do that for other kids. Her chin turned back toward Jake. I’m not ready to give up teaching.

That would be a challenge, but not an insurmountable one.

Gabrielle laid a hand on Jake’s arm. I’ve always been afraid I’d turn out cold like Mother. Maybe I have. But I can’t marry you. I don’t feel like you do. I’m sorry, Jake. More sorry than you can imagine. Her voice rose at the end with hysteria. She gripped Jake by the arms and kissed him. Jake’s hands came up to grab hold of her, but Gabrielle jerked away. Goodbye, Jake. I’m leaving for Arizona—home. Now. The heels of her sandals clicked across the deck and down the finger pier. She marched, stiff shouldered, down the dock.

Stow your gear in the aft cabin. Jake’s terse voice veered Rachel’s gaze to his.

He glared at her and mashed his ball cap further down till it shielded his eyes from her. He moved through the fore cabin companionway, a red bandana trailing from the pocket of his faded jeans.

So, I still have the job?

Congratulations. Jake disappeared into the main cabin. Sarcasm hung in the air like the sulfur smell of mangrove.

Humid air puffed at her as a speedboat barreled by. She did the tiniest two-step before the lump lodged back in her throat. She heaved open the wooden hatch of the small cabin at the stern of the boat. The smell of fresh paint hung in the gloom, and she felt for a light switch. An energy-saver bulb slowly warmed the cabin with light.

To port a full-sized bed tapered toward the stern with the shape of the boat. She tugged open the bins under the bed and found them full of neatly folded clothes, shoes, towels and linens.

Under the starboard chart table that had been converted into a bunk, she discovered an empty bin. She up-ended her duffle. A privacy curtain had been strung between deck and bunk.

She peeked into the shower and head on the port side. Like Jake’s bins, everything looked shipshape. At least the guy wasn’t a slob.

She popped open the closet opposite the head. Suits. She slipped a finger under a lapel and read Hugo Boss on the inside breast pocket. Why would a ship’s captain have a closet full of Hugo Bosses?

She eyed the three-foot walkway separating their bunks. Between Jake’s angst and her own, nothing would threaten her black and blue virtue.

She found Jake in the dining nook with his head in his hands.

I’ve got the menu planned, and I’m going to Winn Dixie. I need money.

Jake didn’t move.

Okay, so he needed to chill. She didn’t think her heart could take watching the guy full-on bawl.

Her gaze swung to the Queen’s U-shaped galley opposite the dining nook. Beside a porthole, wire baskets of onions and apples swayed in sync with the gleaming stainless gimbaled stove and the rock of the boat. Her eyes flitted over the double sink corroding around the faucet, gold refrigerator, and green dishwasher. She opened the cupboards and took mental note of the supplies on hand.

She turned back to Jake. Beside him on the table lay an envelope and a pink card with a flower on it. Jake’s shoulders moved as he sighed, but he didn’t look up.

Rachel wandered toward the bow, glancing at the bunks built into the hull—each sported privacy curtains like the one around her bed. Benches lined the cabin below the bunks. Beyond them, she found the head and shower on either side of the cabin, followed by staterooms. She pushed open a door. A double-wide bunk tucked under the deck, graced by white eyelet shams and sunflowers splashed on forest green fabric. A breeze wafted through the porthole. Nice.

She combed fingers through her mass of wind-blown ringlets, an attempt to fit into the tidiness she saw everywhere on this boat. The flutter she’d shoved down when she first laid eyes on the Smyrna Queen wafted to the surface.

She stopped at Jake’s elbow. So, do you need anything from the grocery?

Bloodshot eyes looked up at her. "Beef jerk-y."

She stared at him, not sure whether he really wanted her to buy beef jerky or if he was calling himself a jerk.

He pulled a debit card from his wallet, and handed it to her. Two, six, four, one.

Jake stared at the pink flap on the envelope Gabrielle had given him as the dregs of his hope died. If there was one thing he’d learned about Gabs, she had a will stronger than epoxy. She’d climbed into her Beemer and was probably halfway to the Panhandle by now.

Part of him wanted to believe she broke up because she thought she was too good for him, too rich—that he was knocking his head against the six-foot thick Plexiglas wall between blue collar and white he’d banged against his whole private school career. But status and money meant nothing to her. She could live on a teacher’s salary the rest of her life and be content.

She flat out didn’t love him. Pain had encapsulated in him like he’d swallowed a plastic prize bubble from the arcade. Today’s closure lanced open the bubble. Anger oozed into his body, propelling him out of the dining nook and onto his feet. He yanked the companionway steps up and wrenched the engine room door open.

Was that Gabrielle’s scent? He inhaled deeply and realized it was the candle in a glass jar she’d left behind. He’d never burn it. Fire hazard.

He grabbed the candle from the catchall nailed to the bulkhead, tossed it in one hand, and hurled it as hard as he could through the engine room door. It skimmed the engine and shattered against the planking over his workbench, spraying glass in all directions.

He ducked through the doorway as the candle galumphed to the edge of the bench and fell to the floor. He slammed the wax glob against the bulkhead with his boot. The cloying smell of flowers filled the cabin.

Rachel jostled the paper grocery bags on the finger pier in front of The Smyrna Queen to get a better grip.

Jake swabbed the teakwood deck, his chest slicked with sweat. He glanced up and narrowed his eyes.

He was surly―and better looking than he had a right to be. She tapped her foot on the finger pier, balancing the two bulging grocery bags. Didn’t your mama teach you anything?

What?

Be a gentleman.

Jake blew out his breath and dried his hands with the T-shirt hanging from his waistband. He crossed the gangplank and grabbed the bags out of her arms.

The meat and fish are in these. They need to go into the freezer.

Silence.

Jake, she said to his back.

He stopped halfway across the cockpit, but didn’t turn back.

Because Gabrielle ditched you doesn’t mean you’re a jerk.

Jake glared across the Queen’s deck at her. You don’t know squat.

She whipped the slim package of beef jerky out of her back pocket and fired it at his head. Be a jerk, then.

Jake’s eyes widened before the missile beaned him on the head and ricocheted to the galley below. He stared at her for a full second. A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth, the

Reviews for Tattered Innocence

[itsjustme_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

4.5 stars actually!Way to go Ann! This is the 4th book I have read by Ann Lee Miller. I would have to say this one was my favorite (with "The Art of My Life" a close second). There were a lot of little things going on in this story but it kept a nice flow to it. I think out of all her books this one had the best flow. It was very easy to follow along in the lives of both Rachel and Jake. The author took you to see a little of their past so you could understand where they were coming from. You had to know where they'd been to understand the decisions they were making today.Ann did a great job with the character development! I really liked Rachel. She was very likable person, around the same age as my own daughter and I could see them being friends in real life. She had her flaws, her "skeletons in the closet" that kept her from any real relationships. As she opened up you really got to know her and her personality.But the one I really fell in love with was Jake. I know, I don't really don't fall for the guy. But who wouldn't fall for a guy with a sailboat, right? Jake was great! He was nice, handsome, tried to make the right choices and do right by others. He had his own skeletons. The farther I read in this book the more and more I loved Jake. He never disappointed me. "Her gaze panned over faded jeans, carpenter's belt, paint-splattered T-shirt, and stopped at toffee eyes trained on her. Her breath hitched. She'd been prepared for an old-salt captain, not a Diet Coke commercial." ~ oh yeah I can picture him!The other part of this book I loved was the setting. The setting is always an important part for me. That's why I read so many books that take place in other countries, because I like to go to places I have never been.Ann takes you back to New Smyrna Beach (as in her other 3 books) but the majority of this one actually takes place on a sailboat. It was wonderful. I don't think I would ever actually go on a sailboat. I just have that fear of capsizing that I can not get over. But this was a great book for me to read because I really felt the boat, I felt its movement, its small cabins, the wind, and the spray of the waves. "Yearning, bonding, upheaval, coming home, whipped through her as though the hurricane raged inside her body and not fifty miles offshore." ~ and that just the description of a kiss, just wait till you read about the actual hurricane!THE ALL-IN-ALL -All in all this is a wonderful, Christian based fiction story that takes place on the beaches of FL and on a sailboat. So if you have ever wanted to go sailing...The author uses a few scripture quotes and the characters talk of God and pray, but this book is not preachy at all! It is just a nice clean story (no sex, although there is talk of sex in the past, and no swearing). I think it would be fine for older teens to read.

[tracykrauss · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Ann Lee Miller has done it again in TATTERED INNOCENCE. Set in the tourist community of New Smyrna Beach, she’s woven a story so rich and complex that a mere book review can’t really do it justice. It is ultimately a story of God’s grace and forgiveness, told with authenticity and without sugar coating, yet in a touching and tasteful manner. Jake and Rachel are both emotionally wounded from past relationships and guilt ridden because of bad choices. Rachel signs on to Jake’s crew as a way to run and hide, but over the course of time her armor cracks, as does his. This is not a one-note romance with a neat and tidy outcome, however. As with all of Ms. Miller’s books, the characters runs deep, with emotional baggage that goes way beyond cliché. The description is superb, the dialogue true, and the storyline wallops the reader with unexpected surprises right to the very end. Ann Lee Miller has become one of my favorite authors, not only for the gritty and true to life stories she tells, but the way she tells them with such grace and poignancy.

[macjam47 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

After an affair with Bret, a married man, Rachel Martin wants to get as far away from him as she can. Jake Murray’s love life had just turned topsy turvy not only when his fiance Gabrielle dumps him, but she leaves him without a first mate on his charter cruise boat, The Smyrna Queen. Rachel applies for the job and gets it, but at her first meeting with him, she has made up her mind that her new boss is cold and unfriendly. Jake left the corporate world to start his own business on The Smyrna Queen, a dream he shared with his deceased grandfather. Nearly everything he owns is in this venture. He needs a first mate to help him sail the boat and prepare meals for the guests. Since the only available sleeping quarters are in his cabin, Rachel makes it clear from the beginning that she is there for the job and nothing else. It is quickly apparent that there is an attraction between the two of them, but neither will admit it because they are both still running away from previous relationships. Add to that, family problems, hurricanes, and the guilt they carry; this story has multiple layers to it. Since this is a Christian romance novel, there are references to God all the way through the book. Rachel convinces Jake to go to a beach service with her, and though he is skeptical at first, he comes around. There are often instances throughout where Rachel and Jake each reach out to God for guidance and forgiveness.The book is well written, and the story will keep you turning the pages. If you are looking for a light romance novel and don’t mind Christian references, this is undoubtedly a book I would recommend.Ann Lee Miller grew up in New Smyrna Beach, earned a BA in creative writing from Ashland (OH) University, and currently lives in Phoenix with her husband and children. She writes full time and lectures at various Arizona colleges. This book was given to me by the author in exchange for an honest review.

[caligurl188 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I received a copy of this book to give an honest review. At first when I started to read this story I wasn’t too sure I would be able to follow along. I don’t know too much about sailing and the list of terms at the beginning of the book did scare me a little. However once I really got into the story I couldn’t put it down. I read more than 75% of this book in one night staying up until well after 3 am. This story was one that I will remember for a long time it was a captivating story that pulled at the strings of my heart right to the very end.The story is about two people Rachel and Jake. Rachel applied for the job of first mate on the Smyrna Queen to escape her former life having had an affair with a married man, Bret. For Rachel when their affair is taken too far sees no other choice than to run away she didn’t just sleep with a man before marriage she slept with a married man who has his own family. What bothered me most about Bret is that he really wanted to have his cake and eat it too telling Rachel he loved her but he married his wife and wanted to stay for the children so in my eyes I can see why Rachel has ran away. Her affair with Bret has cost her more than just in her eyes her self worth in the process she has alienated herself from her family more than anyone her brother Hall who she practically raised since he was a baby. Jake is a man who fulfilled the dream that he and his grandfather had which was to run their own cruise boat someday since his grandfather’s passing he has seen what matters in life and quit his corporate job and bought the boat the Smyrna Queen and fully restored her only to have his life come crashing around him on the Rachel’s first day when his fiancee Gabrielle decides that she cannot marry him that day and runs away back to her family in Arizona.The friendship that formed between Rachel and Jake never had a dull moment here you have a woman who’s running from a married man and a man who is lost since his fiancee ran from him. They fight their attraction to one another at every turn Rachel because she believes Jake is still in love with Gabrielle and Jake because he thinks Rachel wants a forever kind of ending he doesn’t think he can give her since he thinks he can’t love again after Gabrielle left him. That all changes when Bret shows up as one of the guests on the boat and Jake poses as her boyfriend to get him to leave her alone. This book was about learning how to find forgiveness or oneself for their sins and finding that God will still be there for you in the end. Rachel finding forgiveness in herself for her guilt and Jake finding that God is still there for him at the end of the day and discovering at the end of the day that you can find love again even after you have lost the only person who have ever loved. I loved this story and the characters in it. I laughed and I even cried at the end when the baby came into the picture. (What baby? Who’s baby? You’ll just have to read the book to find out) This was a great late night read that I will read again and again and keep on the permanent shelf in my Kindle and I cannot wait to read Ann Lee Miller’s other books in the future especially since Avra’s God is about two of the characters from this book!