Sneak Peek!
Drama in the Bahamas Cruise
Book Description:
If I thought the first half of my life was a bumpy ride, I’d better buckle up because I’m about to go over the hill and off the rails.
My name is Trixie Troublefield, and I live on a cruise ship. My days are filled with exciting shore excursions, nonstop buffets, and ceaseless games of bingo—can life get any better than this? But then there’s that body.
Midlife on the high seas is proving to be murder.
Chapter 1
Emerald Queen of the Seas, Royal Lineage Cruise Lines
Itinerary
7 Day Cruise
Day One = Departure from Fort Lauderdale, Florida
Day Two = Nassau, Bahamas
Day Three = Sunset Cay Resort Bahamas
Day Four = Freeport, Grand Bahama Island
Day Five = Bimini, Bahamas
Day Six = Relaxing Day at Sea
Day Seven = Return to Fort Lauderdale
Three hours from now…
The Victim
The deck of the Emerald Queen sparkles under a canopy of stars as the ship gently moves through the warm Florida breeze.
Twinkle lights crisscross above us, casting a soft glow on the crowd gathered for the Bachelorette Bonanza, a cheesy but fitting name for the kickoff party for a second marriage celebration.
Sharp cackles break out every now and again, a sure sign the liquor is doing its job, and rather quickly, too. Soft rock music plays from unseen speakers, creating the perfect atmosphere for just about any celebration.
I sip my champagne and survey the scene. The ship has hardly left port, and yet the cruise is already brimming with people, far too many people for my liking. I can only imagine what the pool situation will be like. I’ll have to plan on going early tomorrow morning so I can get some pool time to myself before it turns into a petri dish of germs and bodily fluids.
One of the girls we’re traveling with jumps into the middle of the deck and howls while doing her best to coax the rest of us to shake our bodies along with her. And sure enough, a few of us do so with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
Need I remind them we’re a book club, not a dance club? And judging by some of these moves, it shows.
The scent of grilled burgers wafts from the buffet and it’s making my stomach claw at itself as if a rabid lion were trying to claw its way out.
If there’s one thing I plan on doing in abundance during this trip, it’s eating my weight in all the delicious food I can handle—starting with those burgers. I don’t see why not, I’ve essentially already paid for every bite of it and then some. Heaven knows there’s not a lot in my cupboards as far as food goes these days.
I lean against the railing, watching as the guest of honor glides across the deck in a radiant white dress—a sundress, but still. I have a feeling white is the only color we’ll see her in until she’s hitched herself to that buffoon.
If I were her, I’d wear black from here on out, and I would be in mourning until one of us finally keeled over—or opted for another divorce. Statistics show that second marriages hardly stand a chance.
I shake my head at the sight of the bride-to-be as she struts her stuff. Her face is flushed with happiness and it’s a stark contrast to the things I know—the things I’ve seen. I’ve tried to warn her, but it seems I’m the last person people listen to these days.
Some people prefer to believe in a fairy-tale ending rather than face the harsh truths that reality offers.
Although I have been warned not to meddle. But then again, meddling seems to be what I do best.
My eyes wander to a corner where that annoying gnat who won’t leave me alone holds court with a small group of women. Her laugh rings out, overly loud and shrill, grating on my nerves. That woman has always been a thorn in my side, constantly vying for attention and trying to outshine me at every turn. I wish she would just leave me be and stop turning everything into a ridiculous competition. A competition that I won a long time ago.
I cast a glance at the deep blue water as the ship sets sail for the Bahamas, and my past comes to me in snatches. I can’t help but feel a twinge of regret over the direction I’ve decided to take my life. There were decisions I made, chances I took that led me to this very moment.
Who I am today is a testament to the lengths I went to escape my past. It was a fresh start, a new life free from the burdens I once carried that I was after. But it also comes with its own set of complications and secrets, ones I guard fiercely.
The music shifts to a slower tempo, and my thoughts drift back to my old life, a life filled with financial woes, romantic woes, and unfulfilled dreams.
I left all that behind, or so I thought.
Yet, the shadows of my past still loom, threatening to surface at the most inconvenient moments. And ironically enough, my life today isn’t all too different.
I turn my attention back to the party, forcing a smile as the guest of honor approaches.
“Having fun?” she asks, her eyes bright with excitement, and yet there’s an undercurrent of darkness in them reserved just for me.
“I sure am,” I say. “This party is perfect, just like you deserve.”
Her expression hardens before she moves on, leaving me alone with my thoughts once more. I glance at the horizon, to the endless expanse of dark water reflecting the twinkle lights from the ship.
Life has given me a second chance, but it is a fragile one, constantly threatened by the secrets I harbor and the people I have to manipulate to keep them hidden.
I can’t take it anymore. That’s exactly why I’m determined that this trip is going to turn everything around for me no matter what the cost to her might be.
But there’s something nagging at my conscience. I can’t shake the feeling that my carefully constructed life is on the brink of collapse. The evidence I hold over certain individuals—the secrets I keep buried—they all feel like ticking time bombs. That’s because they are.
They know what I want. I explicitly let them know what my demands were before we left port. And once we get back, they know exactly what they have to do to keep me quiet.
The music starts to fade, and the party begins to wind down. The Bachelorette Bonanza eventually disbands as everyone eagerly takes off to get ready for dinner.
Guests drift away in pairs and groups, some heading back to their cabins, others lingering by the pool for one final drink.
I take off in haste with my mind still buzzing. I’m finally in the driver’s seat and I don’t know how to handle it all.
Maybe they were right. I’m not meant for success. I’m destined for mediocracy, and maybe I should stay in my own lane.
But I didn’t.
And I won’t.
I make my way to my cabin and my heart skips a beat when I see a familiar face standing in the middle of the room.
“What are you doing in here?” I ask, taken aback by the intrusion. “Wait, we’re not sharing a room, are we? I specifically asked for a single. Sure, it cost more, but that’s why I opted for the interior cabin.” I squint over at her. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”
There’s no answer, only a cold, calculating stare. The silence is heavy and it seems to be pressing in on me from all sides.
I glance around, noting the disarray of my once tidy cabin. Something is very wrong.
And then I see it—the knife in her hand.
“No,” I say, taking a step back. “You don’t have to do this,” I whisper, but the words fall flat in the air.
There is no mercy in those eyes, no hesitation as she steps forward, the knife gleaming with a deadly intent.
I think of all the secrets I’ve kept, the lives I’ve affected, the desperate scramble to protect my own fragile existence. It all flashes before me in an instant, a lifetime of choices leading to this final, irreversible moment.
As the knife rises, I belt out a scream, but it’s quickly buried beneath a chipper dinner announcement that carries over the speakers.
I fall to the floor as the ship moves across the water, oblivious to the end of my journey.
Chapter 2
Present
Trixie
Suddenly Single—What a Trip!
Hey there, adventurous readers!
Are you ready to help me embark on an unforgettable journey through the tropical paradise of the Bahamas? I’m more than ready to set sail! I’m already looking forward to so many things like diving into the gorgeous culture and flavors of the Bahamas by trying local delicacies like conch fritters and drinking coconut water straight from the source! And I certainly plan on taking a leisurely stroll on those pristine beaches. After all, there’s no better way to embrace island life than with your toes in the sand and a Bahama Mama cocktail in hand!
Let the adventure begin. Here’s to making the most of every sunny, sandy moment!
XOXO Trixie
The Florida sun casts a golden glow over the Emerald Queen of the Seas, and I can hardly contain my excitement just looking at this majestic beauty as Bess, Nettie, and I make our way up the gangway. Soon enough, we set foot right where we belong, onto the gorgeous ship that just so happens to be our home.
No sooner do we step on board than I take a deep breath, savoring the fresh, sea-scented air. The polished deck glistens under the sunlight, and I can hear the distant sound of seagulls mingling with the chatter of excited passengers.
This is paradise.
There’s something magical about the first day of a cruise. The freshly scoured ship sparkles and gleams so bright you can see your reflection in every brass railing, the rush of the collective adrenaline from every last passenger eager to start their adventure fills the air, and the bubbling excitement within me—mostly for the culinary delights on the immediate horizon—is almost too much to contain.
I can’t wait to get to my cabin and offload my suitcase. And as soon as Bess, Nettie, and I do that, we’ll head straight to the lido deck to hit the buffet. We’re not ones to dawdle when it comes to the tasty offerings on this great ship. But first, there’s a certain someone I need to say hello to.
I crane my neck as the crowd around us swells, looking to find the reception line.
“First one to the buffet wins,” Bess says it like the dare it is and I make a face her way. She knows how dangerous it can be, serving up a dare to Nettie.
Bess Chatterley and Nettie Butterworth are my constant companions here on the ship. They’re both somewhere in their eighties and have been living on board the Emerald Queen for years now. Bess is a retired teacher who dyes her short locks a lovely shade of amber. And Nettie is a diehard hippie whose hair looks like a gray tumbleweed wobbling over her scalp. Both are witty, wealthy, and wise. And my life wouldn’t be the same without them.
They’re the ones that convinced me to call this ship home to begin with. And even though they’re both retired, I’m still gainfully employed by the Emerald Queen herself. I happen to teach art classes here on board a couple of times a week. It works out well for me because I get to combine my two passions. The first is doing what I love, which is art in just about any medium. And the second is to keep as far away from my ex-husband, Stanton, as possible. And now that I’ve achieved both, I can honestly say my life has been a success so far.
And as far as husbands go, I’m about to gain another one. I glance down at the sparkler Ransom placed on my finger last night when we docked and I can’t help but smile.
“First one to the buffet wins, huh?” Nettie pushes up the sleeves of her blouse. “I’m in. But only if the prize is more food.” She elbows me in the ribs. “I’ve got my eye on those chocolate fountains.”
“You stay away from those chocolate fountains,” Bess is quick to reprimand her. Although, let’s be honest, the chocolate genie is already out of the bottle—or fountain as it were. “The only thing you seem to do with those things is land inside of them.”
“I can’t help it.” Nettie’s shoulders sag a moment as if admitting defeat. “A chocolate fountain is a siren song to my soul.”
“Mine, too,” I say as the crowd continues to grow in size. “But I think I’ll start with a vanilla soft serve cone before we hit the buffet. The lava cake will meet my chocolate needs later. This humidity practically demands I have a cone every twenty minutes.”
“Look at us.” Bess shakes her head. “We’ve hardly stepped on board, and we’re already planning our culinary conquests. And you don’t have to remind me that I started this party.”
“Well, someone’s gotta make sure the food is up to par,” Nettie says as she leads us back into the crowd. “It’s a matter of quality control.”
“Oh, they’ve got plenty of quality food here,” Bess says as we follow along. “The problem is, we don’t seem to have any control.”
We share a quick laugh just as the crowd parts and we spot the usual lineup of a few crewmembers welcoming the passengers on board.
Captain Crawford, Wes as he prefers, stands tall in his all-white uniform with brass buttons running up and down the front of his jacket. He’s wearing a matching hat with just as much hardware, and just about everyone is more than eager to take a selfie with him.
Next to him is Tinsley Thornton, the cruise director who for whatever reason I’ve never quite bonded with. Basically, Tinsley had a thing for both Wes and Ransom, and well, ever since I’ve boarded the ship, I seem to have garnered the attention of both of those men, much to her chagrin—and red-hot ire, too. Suffice it to say, Tinsley has a temper and she’s not afraid to wield it in my direction.
I look past her and my heart lets out a sonic boom.
There he is, tall, dark, and lethally handsome.
Ransom Courtland Baxter has thick dark hair with matching dark stubble strewn across his far too handsome face, eyes the color of a tropical ocean, and a body built for destruction. His nature is brooding, he hardly ever smiles, and he can spot danger more than half a planet away. He’s a retired FBI behavioral analyst, he’s the head of vessel security, and he just so happens to be my shiny new fiancé.
“Hello, Captain,” I say, passing Wes by. “Tinsley.” I don’t bother looking her way either. Instead, I’m immediately engulfed in Ransom’s strong arms as he lands a kiss on my lips and spins me around.
“Hello, beautiful,” he murmurs right over my lips. He’s dressed to impress in an inky dark suit and holds the heart-stopping scent of musk and spice. “Why does it feel as if I haven’t seen you in eight weeks?”
“It’s been less than eight hours,” I counter.
He lifts a dark brow. “Far too long.”
A wicked smile curves on my lips. “I wholeheartedly agree.”
“All right, you two,” Tinsley grunts. “I’m close to losing my lunch. Can you turn down the volume on that hot-to-trot routine, or do I need to shove you in the nearest swimming pool to cool off?”
“Don’t listen to her.” Wes nods our way and sheds an easy smile. “Congratulations once again on your upcoming nuptials. I’m guessing the two of you have a lot of wedding planning to get to.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Nettie says. “But first food. Come on, Trix. We’ll nail down the dirty wedding deets at dinner. The lido deck is starting to fill up.”
“Trixie, normally I’d swat her for you,” Bess says. “But with this heat, I can really use a big glass of sweet tea. I’m sure the details will come to you in time.”
“Every last wedding detail is in Trixie’s hands,” Ransom says, giving me a squeeze. “I defer to your wisdom.”
“My wisdom in that department is pretty rusty,” I say with a laugh. “Besides, I’d love it if you were a part of it. I say we tackle it together.”
His eyes crinkle with a warm smile all their own as he looks at me. “I’m honored to be a part of the process. But most important to me is that all of your wedding dreams come true. The sky’s the limit. Let it be known, there’s no budget for this shindig.”
I bite down a smile. Ransom is ridiculously wealthy, and it’s sweet of him to want to shower me with whatever my heart desires but—
Before I can say a word in protest, a boisterous group of women screams at the top of their lungs as they head our way.
Chapter 3
Trixie
“Captain!” a wiry brunette howls while pulling along a timid-looking redhead and a blonde, and the blonde can’t seem to stop giggling. Behind them is an entire entourage of middle-aged women who look just as enthused to plant their feet on the ship. “If it isn’t our lucky day,” the brunette sings, turning to the women by her side. “It’s so nice to meet you, Captain. I’m Hetty King and these are a couple of my buddies that I’m traveling with. We’re actually part of a much bigger group because this one is getting hitched.” She nods to the blonde who only laughs harder. “The bride-to-be is my good friend Jennifer Mitchell, and next to her is my good friend Lucy Taylor.” She points to the blonde, and then the redhead respectively.
“You must be the bachelorette party.” Tinsley steps forward. “I’m Tinsley Thornton, the one you’ve been emailing with,” she says to Hetty and the brunette gasps with delight.
I can’t help but notice how bloated Hetty’s face looks. Judging by the fact it looks stiff and she has to work hard to smile, I’m guessing she’s loaded with filler in her cheeks. Her lips are puffy and swollen as well. And being the ex-wife of a top plastic surgeon, I can tell she spent her money at the wrong place. It’s a shame. She’s such a beautiful woman, too. I’m sure she didn’t need any of it.
“Tinsley!” Hetty throws her arms around the reticent cruise director as if they’ve been best friends for life. Tinsley isn’t exactly your touchy-feely type. In fact, some days I wonder if she has feelings at all. Or if she’s human in general.
“My goodness, yes!” Hetty goes on. “It’s so nice to meet you. Is the launch party all set to go?”
“What launch party?” the blonde bride-to-be looks suddenly suspicious.
She’s wearing a gorgeous white summer dress with eyelet trim around the edges, and it seems to highlight the pretty gold chain around her neck with the words My Girl written in cursive lettering. It’s cute and reminds me of the kind of jewelry I’ve given my daughter Abby on occasion.
Jennifer Mitchell is pretty, about my age, somewhere in her fifties, her blonde locks are down to her shoulders, as are mine, and her gray roots look as if they’re winning out, as are mine.
“Don’t you start.” Hetty quickly waves off her friend. “It’s just a little send-off with some cocktails and music. You didn’t think we were going to wait to start the party, did you?”
The timid redhead offers a consolatory smile to the blonde. “I told her to wait.”
“But I never listen to you,” the brunette howls with a laugh—albeit her face is frozen with a somewhat stoic expression. Clearly, fillers are not her friend.
“Yes, the Bachelorette Bonanza is all set.” Tinsley nods. “I’ve got a quarter of the lido deck marked off for you. In fact, the kickoff begins right after the muster drill.”
“The muster drill, aka the lifejacket shuffle, is sort of a necessary evil.” The captain winks their way and the three of them swoon. I’ll be the first to admit that our captain is swoon-worthy, but then so is Ransom, or Handsome Ransom as he’s better known.
Ransom leans in. “Did he just say lifejacket shuffle?”
I shrug up at him and nod. “The man has a sense of humor and he’s not afraid to show it off.”
Ransom nods. “We never said it was good.”
“Hetty, I feel so silly.” The blonde’s cheeks start to fill with color. “We don’t need to do any bachelorette parties. This isn’t exactly my first rodeo, you know.”
“Oh”—Tinsley straightens—“speaking of silly, we’ve got another silly goose on the loose about to hit the altar once again as if it were a bad habit.” She snatches me out of Ransom’s arms and lands me center stage. “This is our art director, Trixie Trouble. It sounds as if the two of you have some common enemies—i.e., state law and exes.”
“Funny.” I take a moment to shoot her a look before giving the blonde a bright smile. “It’s so nice to meet you, Jennifer.” I offer a hand and we shake. “I’m Trixie Troublefield, recently divorced, and even more recently engaged.” I hold up my left hand and we share a laugh.
“Then you have to come to my party.” Jennifer is quick to insist.
“I agree.” Hetty gives a vigorous nod. “There will be gourmet food, booze, questionably appropriate games, and the occasional table dance.”
“Okay, I’m in,” I say without hesitation. “You had me at food.”
“Then we’re in, too,” Nettie says, stepping up. “We’re a part of Trixie’s booze crew,” she says, linking arms with Bess. “We’re also known as the trio of fun.”
“Trio of terror is more like it,” Bess corrects—and she would be right. The three of us have caused more than a little terror both on and off the Emerald Queen.
“The more the merrier,” Hetty says. “We’ll see you ladies on the lido deck!” They take off and a whole group of women takes off following them. Another redhead lags behind, and judging by the look on her face, she looks good and miffed. I can’t blame her. The heat is on, the humidity is thick, and I’m guessing she could use an iced tea as well.
A man with a ball cap pulled low over his forehead steps onto the ship, with dark hair peeking out from the edges of his hat. I can’t help but notice he’s wearing a somber expression and looks as if he’s glowering at the crowd. Probably in search of his poor wife. He, too, looks overheated in a dress shirt and slacks. I certainly hope he’s prepared for the heat.
Honestly, half the people here look as if they’re headed to Alaska. This heat is dead serious and it’s not going anywhere. It’s also more than enough to make anyone dehydrated—me included.
“Speaking of libations,” I say, turning back to Ransom. “Hetty didn’t woo me with her talk of booze. I don’t drink—and for good reason.”
“So I’ve noticed. You do realize that’s made it exceptionally difficult to get you plastered.”
A laugh bubbles from me. “Try again. I do have champagne on occasion. You know I can’t resist that.” I cast a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure Tinsley is out of earshot, and lucky for me she’s already greeting the next batch of passengers. “Anyway, the real reason I don’t drink is because I’m afraid it’d make that unique little talent of mine a little more pervasive, and as it stands, one ghost is enough.”
Up until our last cruise, Ransom had no idea that I could see the dead. And up until a few months ago, neither did I. And for some reason, those ghosts always seem to be supernaturally tied to a homicide that’s just taken place.
He frowns my way. “You don’t see any now, do you?”
I give another quick look around and shake my head at him.
“Nope. All’s clear in the paranormal department. I suppose the Emerald Queen is all caught up on its hauntings.”
“Good,” he says, pulling me close once again. “Maybe, just maybe, we can enjoy one trip without a dead body getting in the way.” His phone chirps. “I’ve got a briefing I need to attend. I’ll try to catch you after the party.”
“Sounds good.”
We share a quick yet heated kiss and he takes off.
I turn to look for Bess or Nettie, but instead, a pretty brunette with a head full of dark curls catches my eye. She’s donned a fitted hot pink wool coat that cuts off at her thighs and she’s paired it with knee-high black patent leather boots with a decent spiked heel. But it’s not the wool coat or the boots that strike me as odd about her, especially in this heat. It’s the fact I can see right through her body.
It seems the Emerald Queen is due for another haunting after all.
She cranes her neck until she spots me, then offers me a cheerful wave and a brimming smile.
I’m about to wave back, albeit with much less enthusiasm, when she up and disappears in a spray of hot pink stars.
That woman is a ghost.
And ghosts only mean one thing around here.
There’s about to be a murder.
***I hope you enjoyed this preview! Thank you for reading!****