Is Endurance Shackleton'S Incredible Voyage Based On A True Story?

The only thing more dangerous than the game is the man guarding the crease. Lyon Navarro has spent his entire career tearing down the San Diego Stormbreakers. As the city’s most ruthless journalist, he’s made an art form out of exposing the Alphas’ volatile tempers and their scandalous lives off the rink. He’s the man they love to hate—until a desperate management team offers him the biggest paycheck of his life to fix their image. The assignment? Tame the six most notorious werewolves in the league. But Lyon isn’t just dealing with professional athletes; he’s stepping into a den of apex predators who have been waiting for him to cross their territory. And they have no intention of playing nice. Rafael Stone, the team’s intense, iron-willed captain, has made one thing clear: if Lyon wants to manage the pack, he’s going to have to survive them. But between the locker room tension, the high-stakes pressure of the season, and the way the pack’s gazes feel like a physical brand on his skin, Lyon realizes he’s no longer just reporting the story—he’s the one being hunted. In a world of adrenaline, cold ice, and raw, lupine desire, Lyon is about to discover that the line between enemy and lover is thinner than a skate blade. Six Alphas. One PR strategist. And a season that’s about to get very, very hot. Beyond the Ice is a high-stakes, slow-burn MM hockey werewolf romance. Expect intense power dynamics, sizzling tension, and a pack that doesn't just want to win the cup—they want to claim their man.

The day my husband, Reece Malcolm, reached the pole for his polar expedition, his childhood sweetheart who was sent away reappeared in his bedroom. Everyone had kept it from me. Erica Lowell had been by his side day and night. Though Reece said he didn't want her there, he still allowed her to stay by his side for four years as his assistant. "You have to believe me, Lucy. There's nothing between Erica and me," he used to say. Always so sure. Always so convincing. But when he returned, it was with Erica in his arms—heavily pregnant. "She threatened to kill herself, Lucy. I didn't have a choice," he said. "The baby's coming. I need you to raise it. You know you're the only one I've ever loved." Four years. Four years of silence, of waiting alone in a house that never felt like home. Now, the lawyer is hired. The assets are tallied. The divorce papers are signed and sealed. I'm done.

We got caught in a blizzard—me, my fiancé Melvin Dunn, a few of his colleagues, including Sally Blom. Middle of the night, I woke up shaking. My heavy-duty sleeping bag—the one built for minus forty—was gone. In its place? A flimsy summer quilt. Sally was curled up in my bag, fast asleep in Melvin's arms. I shoved him hard. "Why is she in my sleeping bag?" He pulled me aside, whispering, "Keep your voice down. Sally's kinda fragile—she's about to catch a cold. You're strong. You'll be fine." I pointed at my feet, already numb. "So I'm supposed to freeze to death for you two because she's 'fragile'?" He frowned. "God, Peyton, stop being so dramatic. It's just a sleeping bag. Think about the team for once." I laughed, tears slipping down my face. Didn't say another word. Just crawled back into the corner, grabbed the sat phone, and called my brother—Captain of Stormfang Rescue, an elite international search and rescue team. "Hugh, come get me. The coordinates are... Remember—I'm alone."

As the only expert in the world capable of rescue dives below 3,000 feet, I received a once-in-a-lifetime salvage contract worth tens of millions of dollars. I had dived in those same waters over a decade ago. My son's research submersible had been damaged on the ocean floor. After his oxygen ran out, he suffocated in the dark. The grief nearly destroyed me. My husband, Griffin Lattimer, held me through it, staying by my side through countless miserable nights. I found out later that he had personally redirected the only rescue vessel capable of reaching the depths our son was at to save his childhood friend's daughter. That girl had merely choked on a mouthful of water in the shallows. I divorced Griffin and threw myself into deep-sea salvage like a woman possessed, diving over and over until I knew the undercurrents of those waters better than I knew my own home. I never wanted another child to die the way mine did. Today brought the same stretch of ocean, the same crushed hull, the same depleted oxygen, and the same impossible odds. When I opened the client's file, I went completely still. I recognized the name and face inside instantly. I would never forget either of them for as long as I lived. I smiled and slid the folder back across the table to my partner. "I can't take this one."

Morgan is just trying to survive her cousin’s destination wedding in Bermuda. She didn’t come prepared for emotional damage, and she certainly didn't expect the biggest drama of the weekend to involve a head injury, a blocked tunnel, and a very confusing run-in with three dudes dressed like they raided a Pirates of the Caribbean casting call. Turns out they’re not LARPing. They aren't actors. It's not a fun sunset cruise. No. They’re privateers. Like, real ones. From the actual year 1725. And Morgan? She’s stuck. She may have a pretty good handle on how to survive in the wilderness, thanks to her ex-Green Beret dad. But eighteenth-century ships, sexist crewmates, and suspicious captains aren’t exactly her area of expertise. Especially not Flynn, the broody, grumpy, maddeningly handsome Captain who might rather toss her overboard than deal with whatever disaster she’s brought onto his ship. But as danger closes in, from rival ships to secrets Morgan didn’t mean to bring with her, she’ll have to find her place in this brutal new world. That is… if she doesn’t drive Flynn to keelhauling her first. Or fall for him. Maybe both. Adventure, slow-burn tension, and fish-out-of-water chaos collide in this swoony, high-stakes romantic tale across time. For fans of enemies-to-lovers, pirate drama, and heroines who don’t know when to shut the fuck up.

I’d just set sail to escort the cargo to the border when a Category 8 typhoon warning suddenly blared. I steer the ship back in the direction of the harbor, only to realize that the ship has run out of fuel. The distress beacon has been dismantled, too. Immediately, I pick up the radio and call the maritime rescuers for help. As soon as the call gets connected, I hear my wife, Melanie Watkins' mocking laughter instead. "I've already rewired the emergency number so that you can never reach the rescuers. Have fun surviving in the ocean!" Her student, Darell Parker, is with her as well. "Remember when you made fun of me for not knowing how to swim, Clifton? Well, now you're given the chance to show off your swimming skills! You can swim all the way back to the shore on your own! You'd better not be as slow as the sea turtles!" The waves have almost capsized the cargo ship. If I can't get rescued anytime soon, I'll end up dying in the sea. I can only grit my teeth before pleading to Melanie, "No one can possibly swim back to shore! Help me call the maritime rescuers—" But she laughs coldly in return. "Why do you need the rescuers' help? Didn't you say one must learn how to protect themselves? Now swim! "If you think the waters are too cold, then swim faster! Maybe you'll feel warmer the faster you swim!" I give up on arguing with Melanie. After that, I head toward the cargo area with a blade in hand and get ready to sever the ropes tying the cargo down. Said cargo contains the ransom money that's capable of saving Ella Zimmerman, the daughter of Hugh Zimmerman, the wealthiest man in Starbury.