Hungover. And you can’t remember who you are, what your name is, what happened yesterday or five minutes ago or five years ago. You have complete retrograde amnesia. Caribbean songs float up from the pool on the lower level. Coconut and pineapple scents drift on the breeze. A mostly-finished Long Beach Iced Tea is beside your chair.

You don’t want to make a scene, so you play it cool. You look around. You figure things will come back to you.

They don’t.

You don’t even know what you look like. (You’re wearing a simple black bikini.)

Were you roofied?

As if you aren’t disoriented enough, you hear two distinct voices. One is the familiar hum of conversation you would expect on a luxury liner. The other voices are disjointed, raw, emotional, and odd.

You are either insane or telepathic. And, according to the selfie camera on your factory-reset phone, your face is hideously scarred. It makes sense now, you forgetting yourself.

What happened to your face? Why can’t you remember anything? Where are your friends? Where is your cabin? And why do you feel that the most important thing for you to do is to not draw attention to yourself? Good luck, with that face.

INCOGNITA

Incognita is my fourth novel, a supernatural-thriller. I wrote it during Covid when I wanted to be on a cruise. In fact, we had a cruise booked, but it was cancelled. This is one of many reasons I love writing. I CAN live in my imagination.

I’m planning to release Incognita’s cover soon, but for now, here’s a fun moment from a cruise in 2025.

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