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Write On The Water Books

A Wes Darling Sailing Mystery/Thriller Prequel (A Novella)

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Key West. Where dreams can be dangerous.

They say the sea calls to those with a restless soul, and for Wes Darling, that call was too strong to ignore. But before he could fully embrace his new life, Wes had to leave behind his life as a detective for his family's agency. The only problem? His mother didn't want to let him go.

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I was avoiding my mother, and after escaping to my office I sat down, leaned back in my chair, took off my shoes, and settled my feet up on my desk. I should have been working, instead I turned on my computer and found a video on YouTube about a guy who quit his job, moved onto a boat, and was sailing by himself around the world. When I watch this kind of stuff, I often fantasize I’m that guy.

The more discontented I’ve become with my job, the more often I watch sailing videos and daydream about living on a boat. When I close my eyes, I can almost feel the sun on my face, see the beautiful women in bikinis, and taste the Piña Coladas.

I like to think of it as chasing the blues, but deep down I know there is only one way I’ll ever really chase the blues. I need to buy a sailboat and make it my full-time home. Since that isn’t likely to work out very well in Michigan, I need to find a place where the sun shows its face most days, and the skies and the waters are blue more often than not. To me, that place in the sun is Key West, Florida.

To be honest, I’m tired of Michigan. Tired of the cold. Tired of spending the days in the sterile box I call my office. Tired of spending my nights watching TV. Most of all, I’m tired of working for my mother in a job that leaves me unfulfilled.

The unpleasant ringing of my office phone rudely interrupted my favorite daydream. I shifted my attention from the phone to the video, and back to the phone as I contemplated not answering.

I let it ring four times, long enough to irritate my mother, who I’m sure guessed that I was loafing, before answering.

“DDA Security,” I said. “Wes Darling here.”

“You gotta help me, Wes,” a voice I didn’t recognize shouted out at me.

“Who is this?”

“Wes, it’s Myron, Myron Stewart. I need help, they took my daughter.”

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