The Siren, the General's Daughter Book One

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Authors: Breanna Hayse

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BOOK: The Siren, the General's Daughter Book One
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The Siren

The General’s Daughter, Book One

 

 

 

By

 

BreannaHayse

 

 

©2013 by Blushing Books® and Breanna Hayse

 

 

 

Copyright © 2013 by Blushing Books® and Breanna Hayse

 

All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

 

Published by Blushing Books®,

a subsidiary of

ABCD Graphics and Design

977 Seminole Trail #233

Charlottesville, VA 22901

 The trademark Blushing Books®

is registered in the US Patent and Trademark Office.

 

Hayse, Breanna

The Siren

The General’s Daughter, Book One

 

eBook ISBN:
978-1-60968-974-2

 

Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

 

This book is intended for
adults only
. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

 

 

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BreannaHayse

 

“I write what I know. With few exceptions, my scenarios are pulled from either personal experience or observation. I've served overseas as an Intell Specialist in the USMC, work as a nurse, and have degrees in Biology (pre-med) and a masters in Psych. Specialty? Deviant behavior and alternative lifestyles, of course. I put all of this together and try to bring about a fun, unique and, hopefully, thought provoking reading experience
.”

 

Read her interview here:

http://www.blushingbooks.com/blog/?p=848

 

Visit her blog here:

http://breannahayseromance.blogspot.com

 

 

Don’t miss these exciting titles by Breanna Hayse and Blushing Books!

 

The Game Plan

Serendipity Ranch

Time Out

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

“So, where did she go?” asked a very tired (and equally annoyed) unit commander as he leaned back in his large chair, fingers pressed together studying the young, handsome blond man standing before him.

“I wish I knew, Sir.” Lt. Michael Quimby sighed, meeting the gaze of the dark brown eyes.

Lt. General Joseph Quimby, M.D. pointed to a chair. “Sit, boy, you’re giving me a crick in the neck. You’re telling me you have no idea where your little sister disappeared to?”

“That is exactly what I’m saying. Her crew told me that- and I quote- ‘she went for a swim’. That was three hours ago. She’s not responding to her transmitter either,” Michael responded, now looking as tired as his father.

Dr. Quimby shook his head again. “I don’t know why I even bother giving her orders—she does whatever the hell she wants to. I knew it was a mistake to allow her a field commission at her age. She is too immature. You, at least, were responsible when you got yours.”

Michael blushed, glancing at the floor. He and Samantha served as special ops officers and scientists onboard the U.S. Allegro—a research vessel that engaged in the development of military intelligence. Dr. Quimby, Military Intelligence and diving medical officer, was also sub-commander to his brother-in-law, Major General and oceanic physicist, Scott Jenkins. The siblings were exceptional, both graduating college with honors by the age of 15 and initiating post-graduate studies as Rhodes scholars. Michael’s specialty was oceanic physics and engineering, just completing his doctorates, while his sister’s was marine biology, oceanography and chemistry with a Master’s degree. Despite their recent ages of 18 and 22, they had been granted field commissions on their17th birthday. Due to their involvement with multiple country coastal commissions and search and rescue efforts, they were additionally granted diplomatic immunity.

“Dad, you know what happens when she gets restless—she needs to fly. Since you wouldn’t authorize a helo, she dove instead.”  Michael defended his sister even knowing that her unannounced swim was pure defiance to her father’s orders.

Dr. Quimby glanced out the porthole over the ocean. “I never will get used to either of you jumping ship and swimming free. It’s not safe.”  He sighed, tapping his fingers on the desk. He looked over into his son’s azure blue eyes. They were so much like his mothers and Scott’s. He missed her—she would know how to handle their spirited daughter. “Michael, I’m sorry, but we need to put a rein on her once and for all. Her challenging my instructions has gotten out of control and the men will lose respect for me if I don’t get a handle on it. She’s even worse since your uncle left on assignment.”

“I agree. Dad, there are times that I wish…” he paused, hesitating to share his thoughts with his overprotective, and somewhat doting, father.

“Go on,” Dr. Quimby ordered firmly as he observed his son’s body language. The poor boy was struggling as much as he was!

“She’s really spoiled and you’ve been very lenient with her since the accident. I get it. But, it was simpler for us when she was little. I mean, I remember you or Scott would give her a good hard spanking and she would keep out of trouble for a couple of weeks. She’s forgotten that plus nearly every other boundary you used to enforce. I’m not trying to blame you. We all have been indulgent.”

“I fully accept the responsibility for her behavior. You’re absolutely right. Regarding your reminder, believe me, Mike, I would love to be able to do that again, but she’s 18 now....”

“So what? Scott still takes his ruler to her. Maybe a little humility is needed? Dad, you know I love her, she’s my best friend and partner. My life depends on her when we are out there, but seriously, how can I trust her not to brat at the wrong time? You have no idea how many times
I’ve
been tempted to lay it into her!” Michael looked frustrated, clenching his fists, his eyes hardening as he flexed his jaw.

“You have your uncle’s ‘pissed off’ jaw twitch, kid. So, why didn’t you?”

“She’s my
sister
. We were never permitted to physically fight other than sparring and, well... I don’t know. I really didn’t consider it,” Michael admitted slumping in his chair. “Maybe I didn’t want to risk ticking you off. I’m smart enough not to mess with your temper.”

“What about hers? She’s a force to be reckoned with,” Dr. Quimby smiled affectionately, pondering his youngest child’s feisty disposition. “Son, I trust you. And I trust you with her otherwise I would never have allowed this pairing. But you are correct that things have to change and I doubt our girl will be very happy about it. It seems like a little bit of old-fashioned discipline is back in order.” He sounded sad.

“Are you serious?” Michael asked.

Dr. Quimby stood, his broad shouldered six feet three inch frame looming over the desk. “Yes. Unfortunately, it appears that our young lady is going to be finding herself over my knee once again in a very short time. Yours as well, if needed. You have my permission.”

Michael stood to follow his father out. There was no mistaking the family resemblance, except for the coloring. Michael’s dark blond hair and bright blue eyes (from his mother) contrasted with that of his father’s rich brown hair (with some greying at the temples) and warm brown eyes. Both were of the same height, broad chested and athletic, serious, self-controlled, and with hearty laughs and intense stares. Single minded and on a mission, they left together to try to track down their female family member.

 

***

 

Clinging to the dorsal fin of the young orca as they raced vertically to the surface, Samantha Quimby embraced the feel of the frigid water as it jetted over her cheeks. There was a sharp impact of air as the two cleanly sliced the waves in a high breach and were suspended mid-flight just before the plummet back to the sea. Sam dove gracefully away from the orca’s body as she was launched, both exhilarated and euphoric as she flew freely before she returned to the salty depths. She lost all track of time and distance as she swam the open ocean with her constant companion, Ton.

Out of habit, she spoke aloud to the young whale. “This was what I needed today, thank you. That lab is so stuffy.” The neuroband communicated confusion at the verbal statement. Sam carefully imaged a small, stagnant pool with a floppy dorsal fin, and felt sadness returned to her. Patting the smooth snout affectionately, she imaged a second thought of an opening that allowed escape from the same pool, receiving a sense of the whale’s relief.

The device she wore around her neck was the dual accomplishment of the two younger Quimbys. It linked directly to her brainwaves to transmit the communication of senses to cetaceans within a 50 miles radius, thus allowing the human and cetacean mind to converge through imaging and primary senses. Combined with her extraordinary and unique ‘situation’, Sam was the closest living being to a fictional mermaid.

 

***

 

Michael leaned over the ship’s railing as he watched the grey waves lap the hull. His heart still pounded fearfully as he recalled almost losing his beloved baby sister to the event of only four months past. The two had been on assignment collecting specimens for a research project in the Marianas Trench and testing the experimental diving equipment they wore. It was a simple, routine task until they crossed paths with a small, unmarked submersible. Without warning, Michael was captured in an electric net and pulled into the vessel. Unable to follow the sub’s slow descent into the trench, his sister raced up to the ship. She disregarded all safety procedures as she shoved the crew out of the way, snatched the untested Beta Project helmet and placed it over her head before plunging back over the side. Designed by the neuroscience team, the noxious gas was hypothesized to enable deep-water dives without compression or nitrogen issues.

Blackness engulfed her as she swam down past the formulated wetsuit’s tolerance, the weight of the ocean atmosphere starting to slowly crush her body. She would not—could not—fail. Michael was in danger. She ignored the excruciating pain of her compressed organs as she exhaled the remainder of air from her lungs. She finally located the vessel just below her and, using her neuroband, called the one animal who could tolerate the depth—the blue whale. Fighting the pain as the pressure took its toll, Sam guided the enormous animal with her mind. The whale swept under the submersible and pushed it to surface without effort. Michael was recovered and the criminals held under custody. Sam, however, was nowhere to be found.

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