Lacy and David Taylor buy a houseboat at a charity auction, although neither of them knows the first thing about boating. Lacy feels that "it'll be a brand new adventure for us – owning a boat. We'll have a wonderful time."<br><br>When they find a harbor to moor their boat, they also meet the boat's previous owner and his new wife, Frank and J.J. Patterson. The four of them soon become fast friends, even though Lacy is a little concerned about the attraction between her husband and the previous owner's new wife.<br><br>As they learn about their boat and the harbor they're in, Lacy and David also learn something else: their boat is haunted, and their lives are in jeopardy.<br><br>…"A ghost haunting the claustrophobic confines of a houseboat is a frightening idea…and Sullivan writes well enough to make sure you believe it." (aBumpInTheNight review)
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T.R. Boone's Sullivan. The Bluewater Wraith
THE BLUEWATER WRAITH
Dedication. Dedicated to My Mate, Our Family,
And The Boaters of the Winnebago Pool
Prologue. June, 2010. The Murder
Part I. August, 2010. 1. A Boat for Auction
2. The Auction
3. A Feeling of Confidence
4. A Harbor for the Boat
5. The Previous Owner
6. A Feeling of Concern
7. The Delivery
8. The Clean-up
9. The Sightings
10. The Marine Survey
11. The Sound
12. A Time for Good-byes
13. The Accident
Part II. June, 2011. 14. The Return
15. The Reunion
16. The Decision
17. The Cabin Encounters
18. The Funeral
19. A Set of Choices
20. The Crawl Space
21. The Attempt
22. A Night Together
23. The Chess Game
24. The Toast
25. The Unexpected
26. The Pilothouse Meeting
27. The Recovery
Epilogue. August, 2011. The Second Auction
Acknowledgements
Disclaimers
About The Author
Отрывок из книги
Father Marty in Oshkosh,
Who’s doomed to haunt until she’s found
.....
Horseshoe Hole. The boat was sitting in 12 feet of water, with Horseshoe Hole immediately below it. The lake was dead calm. The boat was not moving. The only sounds were the boat’s twin Chrysler engines, idling.
The killer turned off the navigation lights and stepped outside onto the bow. He looked around the lake. Everything was dark. There were no lights anywhere along the lake’s shoreline. He could see the silhouettes of several trees – but no cottages – along the lake’s southern shoreline, approximately a mile away. He could see two vague dark mounds at Old Indian Point and Norwegian Bay, two miles away on the northern shoreline. He could see absolutely nothing along the shoreline to his west and his east, over three miles away. Excellent. If I can’t see them, they can’t see me, he reasoned to himself.
