Full Circle
THERE WAS NO SUCH THING as a dead man's curse.
In the murky twilight of two hundred feet of silty water, Daniel Burke felt like arguing the point as he squinted through his mask, searching for the ribs of the sixteenth-century Basque galleon on the ocean floor.
This recovery expedition had been cursed with everything from bad organization to shoddy safety practices, and the fact that Daniel knew he was only here to give it some legitimacy with the inevitable press orgy didn't help. He should have said no when the Society for the Preservation of Antiquities had approached him. He should have told them that water wasn't his element — he belonged in the desert, where layers of sandstone and petrified ash yielded their secrets as reluctantly as a beautiful woman, where caves and hills whispered to him of long-lost civilizations.
But no. The Society had promised him enough money to fund his next trip to Asia Minor, and he, like any dope, had fallen for it.
If the Society's information was correct, the master of the whaling ship had been the first European to set foot on the shores of the New World. Not Columbus.
Not Cabot ... read full excerpt from: Full Circle ebook
