This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2021 by Katherine St. John, Inc.
Cover design by Lynn Buckley
Cover images of woman and ship by Shutterstock
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: St. John, Katherine, 1979– author.
Title: The siren / Katherine St. John.
Description: First edition. | New York : Grand Central Publishing, 2021.
Identifiers: LCCN 2020053572 | ISBN 9781538733684 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781538733660 (ebook)
Subjects: GSAFD: Suspense fiction.
Classification: LCC PS3619.T2484 S57 2021 | DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020053572
ISBNs: 978-1-5387-3368-4 (hardcover), 978-1-5387-3366-0 (ebook)
E3-20210402-DA-NF-ORI
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
The Biz Report
PART I: The Calm before the Storm
Taylor
Celeb Spotter
Stella
Horror Fans Online
Felicity
The Biz Report
Taylor
Nova Weekly
Stella
Love at First Sight
Taylor
Felicity
Part II: Atmospheric Pressure
Spotlight Online
Taylor
Felicity
Stella
Family Ties
Taylor
Industry Standard
Felicity
Part III: Turbulence
Taylor
@MadisonMadeit
Stella
Felicity
Taylor
Stella
Felicity
Celeb Spotter
Taylor
Stella
@MadisonMadeit
Taylor
Part IV: Advisory
Felicity
Stella
XRay Online
Taylor
Felicity
@TheRealStellaRivers
Taylor
Stella
Felicity
Taylor
Part V: Storm Surge
Felicity
Stella
The Love of My Life
Taylor
Felicity
Stella
Taylor
Felicity
Part VI: Landfall
Stella
Felicity
Stella
Taylor
Felicity
Stella
Felicity
Stella
Felicity
Taylor
Part VII: The Aftermath
The Biz Report
The Book Blog
Hollywood Life
Epilogue: Felicity
Acknowledgments
Discover More
About the Author
Reading Group Guide
Also by Katherine St. John
For Alex
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In the future, everyone will want to be anonymous for fifteen minutes.
—Banksy
March 2, 2019The Biz ReportCole Power to Produce and Star in The Siren(Exclusive)
The first film slated for production by Cole Power’s fledgling Power Pictures will be a thriller starring Power, written and directed by Power’s son, Jackson Power. The younger Power is a recent graduate of AFI whose thesis film has been racking up accolades on the festival circuit this year. Also joining the cast is Stella Rivers, who starred opposite Cole Power in 2006’s box office hit Faster. The two were married from 2006–2007. Power Pictures is independently financing the venture, and Taylor Wasserman (formerly of Woodland Studios) has been brought on to produce.
The Siren follows a photographer (Power) married to a model (Rivers), living an idyllic life in the islands until they hire a beautiful young nanny to look after their baby. The nanny replaces the wife as the photographer’s muse, sparking a war between the women that eventually brings them all down.
The film is slated for production over six weeks beginning in June, on the southern Caribbean island of Saint Genesius, west of Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, where Cole Power owns the exclusive Genesius Resort, made famous as the on-screen resort owned by Power’s character in the Gentleman Gangster series. Power purchased the resort and the neighboring film stage last year after wrapping the fifth installment of the wildly successful Gentleman Gangster series, shot partially on the island.
PART I:The Calm before the Storm
Not So Long Ago on an Island Not So Far Away…
Taylor
Sunday, June 16
She was perched on a rock like a siren the first time I saw her, face upturned to the sun, copper skin wet with sea spray. Her toes dangled languidly into the mottled azure water while palm fronds fluttered overhead, casting pom-pom shadows on the powdered sugar sand.
I wondered who she was, how she’d gotten in. I’d personally vetted every member of our cast and crew, and she wasn’t one of them. Even from fifty yards away I could see she was a stunner, with curves in all the right places and an angelic face framed by jaw-skimming brunette waves and a heavy fringe of bangs. No, this girl wasn’t one of ours. Perhaps she was an employee. A desk clerk or maid, tanning on her lunch break. We’d reserved the entire resort and it was gated, secured by uniformed guards with giant guns slung casually over their shoulders as they ate brown-bag lunches in the shade, so she had to belong.
The beach was so shockingly vibrant it bordered on lurid. A postcard-perfect crescent of bleached pink sand swaddled the ultramarine sea, rimmed by an assortment of palms and trees with waxy green leaves that concealed pathways to the pool, spa, and restaurant. Ripples tickled the shore of the tranquil bay, which, according to the island guide in my glorious over-water bungalow, was protected from the surf by coral reefs just beyond the outcropping of rocks where the girl lounged. All up and down the shore, our crew frolicked in the sultry Caribbean sun, tossing Frisbees and floating on their backs in the crystal-clear bay as if they were in a Corona beer commercial.
This was the sort of island paradise featured on office screen savers, where rich people came to decompress in seclusion and honeymooners could enjoy the ocean without ever leaving the privacy of their luxurious accommodations. Nature was king, the rhythm of the day was determined by the weather, and no one was in a hurry.
I would’ve been bored to tears if I weren’t producing a movie.
What can I say? For better or worse, I’d never known what to do with myself in the absence of a mission. Everyone talked about the importance of meditation or yoga to relieve stress, but
