I have my whole book written and edited, but I'm excited to work on it more during the conference. 

First two pages of book: 

Part 1

October 30th, 2019: Fort Lauderdale

My eyes trail around the crew bar as I take another swig of my Johnny Walker scotch. Who is going to be the chosen boy tonight? On my final night of my contract? 

Tyla has been throwing “thirsty eyes” at me all night. He probably expects it since we've been seeing each other on and off for three months and it's our last night on this ship. He's headed for London and I'm going home to Virginia. But... no. Tyla's not exciting enough. This is my last night.

I take another sloppy swig out of the bottle in my hand as my eyes continue to scan. Where is Justin? He doesn’t even show up for my leaver’s night? My last night on ships? We’d had a couple nights together and I was hopeful this would be our last…

…That little flirt is probably on his next conquest. He is such a charming Dutch boy… and those dimples…

“Hey.”

I turn around.

Dani. Lena’s boyfriend. A forbidden “no-no.” The photography power couple on our ship are notorious for their corridor fights where Lena yells Ukrainian profanity at him, as he bellows back defensively in his deep Zimbabwean vibrato.

But she went home for vacation, and I don’t even know their relationship status.  

I look into his deep, preying eyes. 

I knew this was going to happen. I could feel it ever since he came onboard to join her on the ship; touching my hand in the photo gallery as she turned her head, whispering in my ear in the back of the gallery in a predatory manner.   

He grabs the bottle of Johnny Walker from my hand and takes a sip, his eyes still on me.

I hold his gaze. I’m too tipsy to look and see who is around, too tired from my six month contract to feel emotions of right or wrong. I’m just following this euphoric feeling of intense attention.

 The bar is a blur to me now. 

“Follow me,” he says, darkly.

He walks out the bar and I smoothly follow behind him.

I leave all my friends, the party they threw me, the piñata I still had to hit, all the normal fun that should satisfy me, everything; because this is “ship-life” and I can always up the stakes. 

He snakes me through the corridors to his cabin and I follow in search of forbidden fruit. Even though I know it might be rotten, I feel like I need to taste it to find out. 

The last night of my last contract keeps replaying in my head as I find myself walking the ship gangway with my luggage for the fourth time, expecting this to be my home for the next six months. I look up at the vessel, noticing the Bermuda flag perched in the back, a lofty reminder of the amount of money the company saves each year on paying taxes and proper employee wages that would be required if they were flagged in the USA. 

The sinking feeling in my stomach erupts with hardening nausea.

I can’t believe I am here again.