What’s happens on an average day in the life of a guy who’s crazy about a woman like Sabrina Salter? Harrowing, at best. See, Salty (that’s what I love to call her because it makes her nuts) has what some might call a “checkered past.”

I’m Neil Perry, a former lawyer from L.A., so I know people can get into all kinds of fixes. But my girl Salty, she specializes in them. It’s like she’s walking under a black cloud.

This is the kind of luck Salty has. She finally meets the guy of her dreams, or at least she thinks so, which was before me, of course. He was a big shot sportscaster on the same television station in Boston where Salty was the weather girl. I mean, meteorologist. Calling her that is another thing that ticks her off.

Anyway, Salty marries this guy, even though it was his third trip down the aisle and cheating was his middle name. He told her she was different and Salty believed him. Once you have Sabrina Salter on your side, you have found yourself a forever friend. She is the most loyal person I have ever met.

Of course, hubby, the undeserving slug, cheated on Sabrina. The poor kid was so shocked and devastated at the sight of the girlfriend and her husband at a swank Boston bar, she headed for Logan airport and took a late night flight to Nantucket where they had a summerhouse. In the middle of the winter. Why she didn’t go somewhere like St. John where we both now live, I don’t know. It just goes to show she wasn’t thinking right.

This is how Salty’s life goes. She flees to a frigid island to lick her wounds and to figure out what to do. She’s under the covers in a freezing house where she just cranked the heat up and she hears what she thinks is a burglar coming up the stairs. Lucky for Salty, her hubby kept a gun in the nightstand. Not so lucky for hubby, who had decided a little tryst in the winter in Nantucket with his new squeeze would go undetected. Bam, right in the belly.

The next thing you know, Salty is charged with first degree homicide, which was dumb. The D.A. was greedy. He should have gone for manslaughter, but I digress. Sabrina Salter becomes the nightly pickings on the Faith Chase show, along with her dream team lawyers headed by Justine Mercy. Justine Mercy? Seriously, that can’t be her real name.

But she gets Salty off. Of course, Salty now has no job, no money, and pretty much nowhere to go where she won’t be recognized after being on television daily for the past two years. But my Salty is a survivor. She teamed up with her pal, Henry Whitman, who’d starred in his own debacle with the airlines where he worked as a flight attendant. Henry was heading out of Boston when Salty approached him about starting a villa rental business. They combined the little money they had, worked like dogs, and started Ten Villas, an exceptional little start-up on island. I know because I own the best bar on St. John known as Bar None, which sits on the beach right where the ferry drops off tourists and other misfits coming to find paradise. Sabrina and Henry knew they had to hustle and be all business to be considered credible on island. To their credit, they never sat at the bar until the sun had set and their work was done.

I took to Salty, although I didn’t want to. She seemed to have no interest in me, though. I think her chocolate lab, Girlfriend, liked me more. But I took it slow with Sabrina and we’ve gotten pretty cozy. I had a nice undemanding female friend who had a successful business of her own. My bar was doing well. No more billable hours. The sun was always shining. Life was good.

Until Sabrina found the dead body of a man in a hammock shot through the belly at one of her villas. Naturally, the cops liked her for the job. She managed to get herself out of that one and we rested easy for a couple of months. Then Henry decided he wanted to add the newest luxury villa on St. John to Ten Villas, making it a top-heavy eleventh. Sabrina resisted, but ended up going along with it. The owner’s wedding was scheduled to make a big splash during the opening weekend. Unfortunately, the only thing that splashed was the body of the bride, which was discovered by my girl, Salty. You can guess the rest.

What’s a day like in the life of Neil Perry, Sabrina Salter’s favorite guy, you ask?

You just never know.

Permanent Sunset is the second book in the Sabrina Salter mystery series, published by Crooked Lane Books, October 2016.

Former television meteorologist Sabrina Salter’s new life in paradise was idyllic, sprinkled with new friendships, romance and a successful villa rental business, which just landed Villa Nirvana, the newest and most opulent villa in the Virgin Islands. But island life isn’t all sun and sand.

During the villa’s opening weekend, Sabrina discovers the body of a bride murdered on the eve of her wedding to the villa owner. The case gives the police a new reason to scrutinize Sabrina and her business, which they suggest provides inadequate security for its guests and should lose its license. Unless Sabrina can show the bride’s murder was unrelated to her or her business, her life on St. John will be over before sundown.

In order to clear her name and salvage her business, Sabrina dives into the deep end of an investigation riddled with infidelity, fraud, identity theft, and conspiracy in Permanent Sunset, the second in C. Michele Dorsey’s riveting mystery series.

# # # # # # # # # # #

About the author
C. “Michele” Dorsey is the author of No Virgin Island, a Sabrina Salter mystery published in 2015 by Crooked Lane Books set on the island of St. John in the US Virgin Islands. She is also a lawyer, mediator and adjunct professor of law. Michele finds inspiration and serenity on St. John and on Cape Cod. Permanent Sunset, the second in the series, will be published in October 2016.

All comments are welcomed.

Giveaway: Leave a comment below for your chance to win a print copy of Permanent Sunset. US entries only, please. The giveaway ends October 19, 2016 at 11:59 AM EST. Good luck everyone!