This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, and names or events is purely coincidental. The characters are from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.
Many thanks to my husband for putting up with the countless hours I have poured into this publication while doing research, writing, editing and readying for publication. Also my sincere thanks to those who beta read and critiqued this book. I could not have done it without any of the above mentioned folks.
A refreshing breeze cooled sun-hot skin, sent a stray lock of long, dark hair flying. Head bent against the glare, she felt through her bag and closed her fingers on new Armani sunglasses purchased for the trip. She drew them out, admired them afresh, then slipped them on. Their dark lenses relieved a squint brought on by brilliant gold-tipped wavelets dancing in and out of the harbor.
She leaned on the deck railing of the sleek ocean liner, Sylph of the Seas, and took in the sights, sounds and odors of the busy pier. Harried porters, whose deftness avoided near mishaps, pushed wheeled carts piled high with luggage through the huge parking lot crammed with cars and busses of every size, color and description. Steady streams of workers who resembled ants when viewed from the lofty height of Sylph’s top deck loaded or unloaded several ships. Monique had thought the ship enormous when viewed from the taxi window, but here on the deck its immensity sank deeper yet into her consciousness; she wondered if she would ever find her way around the great vessel.