#her contemplating her job in the cruise arc

[concernedbrownbread]

Thinking about how people who come out of trauma might hold it together while in a bad situation, but fall apart in a better situation because they realise it's finally safe to. Thinking about Twilight having nightmares. Thinking about screaming maybe.

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

This Pucking Ship by A.M. Williams

Love at Sea Series #8

 What a splendid way to spend the afternoon and part of the evening today! I really enjoyed this addition to the series ~ great read!

 What I liked:

* Maureen/Mo: intelligent, professional, forthright, good friend, great work ethic, had a bad experience in her last job, has a one-night stand with a sports-crush, unsure about her future…really liked her

* Dylan: athlete, professional hockey player, introduced in previous book, good friend, contemplating his future as he is outgrowing his days of sowing oats, intrigued by Maureen…really liked him

* The way the two went into the one-night stand – very maturely without expectations

* The way the two communicated and were responsible in more than one instance

* Seeing what it would be like to be a crew member instead of an employee on a cruise ship

* The friends of both Dylan and Maureen

* That more than one not-so-nice person in the story was found out and dealt with

* The ending and thinking about the future that the main characters might enjoy

 What I didn’t like: * Who and what I was meant not to like

* Thinking about being stuck working on a cruise ship…don’t think it would be my preferred place to work

 Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more by this author? Yes

 Thank you to the author and IndiePenPR for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 5 Stars

     BLURB

 What started as a one-night stand has become an entire week stuck at sea. Can these two unlikely lovers figure things out or will one of them jump off this pucking ship? Maureen Taking a job working in the gym on a cruise ship seemed like a good plan, especially after being dumped and fired from my last job, thanks to my cheating ex. What I wasn’t counting on was running into the hockey superstar I had a one-night stand with. Now I’m stuck trying to avoid the chemistry between us despite his relentless pursuit before I find myself put out to sea. I just need to survive this cruise with my head down and avoid the drama. Dylan Being a guest on a lover’s cruise wasn’t my idea of a dream vacation. But running into the woman I can’t get out of my head? Now, that’s a dream come true. I swore I wasn’t interested in a relationship, but the sparks between us make it hard for me to resist. Except she’s more worried about protecting her job aboard the ship than me. Maybe it’s for the best if we go our separate ways especially once we’re off this pucking ship. But back on land a unique opportunity to help Maureen secure her dream job presents itself. I’ll stop at nothing to make it happen because as much as she needs this job, I need her and this position will give us both what we want. This Pucking Ship is a sports romance with a slightly forbidden twist, part of the Love at Sea multi-author series. Get ready to set sail through the Caribbean on Festival Cruises’ most alluring voyage with eight of your favorite authors - happily ever after guaranteed! Experience everything the Love at Sea series has to offer. From speed dating to masquerades, guests are sure to enjoy the hot days and steamy nights. Explore hidden waterfalls, swim with dolphins, and watch as eight couples find their forever on the open ocean.

[thelaughbunker]

The Horror in the Dark

          I hate the dark. I doubt I would like hell either, it sounds downright scary. This might be one of the reasons: the Devil lived in my bedroom closet during my tortured childhood. Make no mistake, although Satan is a selfish asshole, he was always considerate to the other demons and monsters in my life. If the Devil was using my bedroom closet for the evening, he would loan out the area under my bed to an equally menacing friend. Growing up, I never left any body part hanging over the edge knowing the offending appendage would be painfully removed by the next morning.

          I am not a big fan of horror movies either. I live in fear from dawn to dusk, so why add the world’s demise to my trepidations during daylight hours? Between the vampires and zombies running around my neighborhood at night, I only have so much time. Overnight camping trips are out of the question too with Satan’s minions lurking behind every rock and tree. And yes, they do know you’re terrified. All evil thrives on our frail insecurities.

          It seems the common denominator of substantiated fear from horror films appears to be the demise of the physical body. Whether the evil assailant happens to be a serial killer, a supernatural alien, or old Beezlebub himself, dying, especially painfully, must be avoided at all costs. Being a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ, I grew up believing that the Devil was my primary adversary, though the magnetic lure of unbridled gluttony runs a close second during the holidays.

          My current job keeps me in close proximity to the evil one, which probably seems odd considering my well-known reputation of being a scaredy-cat. Working security at a hotel overnight, I watch the transformation from the late arriving normal guests to the horrific zombies that shuffle in and out of the hotel in the middle of the night. Around two-thirty in the morning, the change is complete. Evil is ready to screw with me. On my nightly patrols securing the overrated hotel property, I carry an ancient Bible, a handmade necklace of garlic, and a bottle of Holy Water, the required Covid mask, and rubber gloves thick enough to withstand hydrochloric acid. Even then, I pray incessantly.

          Patrolling the top ten floors I am assaulted with the smell of  some premium marijuana sneaking out from under the hallway doors. Becoming ravenous, I contemplate eating discarded pizza crusts from the boxes left in the hallways for me to pick up. Wrapping up the guest floors,I take the stairs down to the large dark second floor. This floor houses large meeting rooms, tight hallways, and an ominous dark hall that leads to the banquet ballrooms. Checking my time, I cruise around the floor and enter the long hallway leading to back guest bathrooms. The moon’s rays bouncing through the tall glass patio doors creates tall, eerie shadows. I turn my phone light on to ease my suspicion that grows by the second. My heart beats wildly.

          Entering the bathroom foyer, I can’t see anything. I sweep my iPhone light in a cautious arc. I jump back a couple of feet and scream like a pre-woke society girl. Lying on the room’s bench seat, a streetwise transient lies stretched out. His old, dirty, Los Angeles Laker Nike basketball shoes hang over one end, his huge ball of unkempt hair dangles over the other.

          I radio the front desk. No answer, just loud static or was that snoring? I am minutes from safety, but by then I could be the front page news.  

         Keeping a safe distance from the monster on the bench, I whisper, “Excuse me sir.” The grizzled beast doesn’t move, it just groans loudly.

         I inch closer, the strong body odor hits me square in the face. It reminds me of an old Brooklyn deli. I am repulsed and weirdly hungry at the same time.

          I raise my tone, “Excuse me sir, but you’ll need to go.” The maskless monster lies stone cold on the bench. I brandish my light inches from his face.

          “SIR, you’ll need to go, or my boss will be forced to call the police.”  The huge man jumps from the bench screaming, “Get that light out of my face bitch!” 

         Standing tall, he towers over me. I back up, holding my ground. The beast wobbles. I note the weakness, hoping to add it to my favor.

          I try the radio again, “Front desk, I need some back up NOW!” The radio crackles without a reply. The beast draws closer, I turn the radio upside down in my hand in case I need a battering ram.

          Inflating my upper body to Herculean proportions, I make the beast’s only exit out of the foyer and into the dark hallway with the glass doors that lead onto the patio.

          “You gotta’ go man” I plead. Trying to turn the tables, I offer him some anti-corporate camaraderie, “Listen man, my boss is a jerk, I’m doin’ you a favor here brother”

           He pauses, rips up his torn backpack and assorted drug paraphernalia. Grumbling, he moves out of the foyer, and towards the glass doors throwing “F” Bombs over his shoulder.  

           Blasting out of the glass doors, I follow him. He quickly turns, breaking the rules of social distancing. Taking my attention, I lose hold of the door. It slams behind me. I am locked outside the hotel. Trapped outside on the deserted patio with the beast, he smiles ear to ear. Accessing the dire situation, I realize it’s play or pay. I quickly try to remember as many Bruce Lee moves that I can.

           “I got you bitch!” he yells. My only escape down the outdoor stairs is blocked by my adversary. Screaming, he pushes over the tall exterior heater in my direction. I catch it with one hand. Standing up the heater while flexing my bicep, the evil one maniacally encroaches.

          Holding my radio like a club, I raise my left hand. “Sir, by the letter of the law, I must warn you that I am professionally trained to protect myself.”

           “I’m gonna’ kill you, you cracker-ass motherfucker” he yells. Throwing down his bag, and ripping off his dirty, wrinkled shirt he rushes me.

           “CRACKER-ASS, I don’t eat carbs BITCH,” I retort. Pulling up my shirt to show my taut midsection, I emphasize the rewards of healthy eating and exercise. He pauses, his last two brain cells touching. I think I smell a whisper of smoke. He wakes up from his trance. Focusing his mental facilities, he charges.

          Taking a defensive stance, I look my fear in the face. “I’m not kiddin’ around here pal, you lay a hand on me and I’m gonna’ put you in a wheelchair for the rest of your life,” I yell.

          The beast sees my strength, I don’t budge an inch. I move forward, he backs up. Picking up his bag, he grabs his shirt. My growing confidence drives him back towards the stairs. I manipulate him to the edge of the first step. Moving closer I give him no respite.

          “Move it, and don’t ever come back on this property again,” I bark as he heads down the stairs.

          Stumbling down the ornate concrete staircase, “You’re a dead man, you white trash piece of shit,” he throws over his shoulder.

          “I don’t live in a trailer park dude,” I yell after him. Waiting for him to clear the stairs and out onto the deserted street, I gather my senses. breathing hard, I thank the Lord.

         “You need some help,” the front desk radio cackles. Thanks for waking up, but no, the sheriff is in control.

         Lying in bed later that morning I couldn’t sleep. I replayed the confrontation in my head. Reaching for my rosary, I hang the holy relic over the head of my bed. Finally drifting off to sleep I notice my closet door is open. Jumping out of bed, I slam the door shut waking up my wife in the process.

         Rolling over she looks me in the eye, “Why are you always closing the closet door in the middle of the night, “ she asks.

        Thinking, I decide to keep the horror to myself. Someone needs to get some shuteye around here, it might as well be her. I pray till I fall asleep, my eyes focused on the closet door.

[concernedbrownbread]

Manga Spoilers below

Talking about these panels specficially:

[ID IN ALT]

He hasn't let himself be vulnerable and remember his trauma in, quote, "a long, long time".

Thinking about how people who come out of trauma might hold it together while in a bad situation, but fall apart in a better situation because they realise it's finally safe to. Thinking about Twilight having nightmares. Thinking about screaming maybe.