Poisoned Waters: Chapter 1

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1950s fiction, australian author, book, crime, crime titanic, cruise, ermisenda alvarez author, fiction, i just don't trust the devil inside of them, i trust everyone, mystery, poisoned waters, ship, spanish author, suspense, thriller, tro kennedy martin, writing

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Bloody mistakes, ugly scars, and beautiful lies. A tale of corruption.

Helen Gardener is murdered on a trans-Atlantic cruise. The Diamond Royale sails from Southampton to New York with her murderer aboard. Set in the 1950s, Poisoned Waters follows the stories of seven unfortunate characters and how they are affected by her death. Was it merely an accident? Mr Phillips, the owner of the ship, and sponsor of the cruise, rules with an iron fist, in search of something or someone.

Lies spiral out of control as the suspects try to survive the final days on board. Conflicted by their sense of morals, greed, and lust, they realise what kind of people they really are. Who will rise? Who will fall? Who was Helen’s murderer?

__picture it & write

Tags

countries, life, photography, pirate, pirates of the caribbean, poetry, sea, ship, travel, writing

I urge people to join in, comment with your paragraph of fiction to accompany the image. It doesn’t have to follow my story or reflect the same themes. It can be a poem or in a different language (provide a translation please :)). Anyone who wants to join in, is welcome. This photograph has been reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr.

Every fortnight we hope to host a photograph suggested by contributors. So, keep those photograph recommendations coming. Submit your favourite images (with credit) for next week’s Picture it & write!

Where would the wind blow me to next? I had visited countries from all over the world. Just when my crew would grow anxious after months at sea, we were granted with our destination. I loved experiencing the exotic incense, strange cuisine, mysterious languages, fantastical tales of another culture. The life of a traveler, a pirate, was one of riches and pleasure. My crew adored me. People embraced me with open arms, the merchants and the whores.

I stabbed the worn map with my dirty dagger. How much wealth could be drained from this petty harbour village? How many slaves could we chain on board? How many would beg for their lives this time?

– Ermisenda Alvarez

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