Have you ever had a rash?

I’m talking one of the bad rashes. You know, the crusty kind that ooze puss and fester under the surface of your skin? The kind you gotta see a doctor for.

Well, I’ve got a rash. It’s a bad one.

And her name is Erika Wild.

I’ve been told I can’t pick at my rash. I can’t cuss at either.

Fuck. That. Shit.

So when I was coerced into a last-minute getaway on a billionaire’s luxury mega yacht wedding extravaganza, sans my rash, I thought, why the fuck not? What could go wrong?

What could go wrong?

The answer to that, my friend, is—everything.

A poisoning.

A murder.

A Drunk overboard.

If this yacht would’ve been a train, we’re talking Drunk on the Orient Express type shit.

Consider this your official invitation to attend the Boomer wedding fiasco of the year. Where everyone is a suspect.

Join me and Al for more Caribbean-flavored adventure as we untie the knots on this nautical mystery.

Full steam ahead!


Rated R for colorful language, crude humor, sexual innuendos, and the occasional non-PC remark. Rated A+ for entertainment value.

**Oh, and one more thing. While I’m not one of those people who’ll tell you what to do with your life or anything, I will say, if you haven’t read the first five books in my story, you may wanna start there. You’d find this story a lot more entertaining if you did. That said, this story has its own sea legs and can stand on them just fine, if necessary.