KAREN’S KILLER BOOK BENCH: Welcome to Karen’s Killer Book Bench where readers can discover talented new authors and take a peek inside their wonderful books. This is not an age-filtered site so all book peeks are PG-13 or better. Come back and visit often. Happy reading!

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JAMAICAN ME CRAZY
A Coffee Shop Series Novella
BY STEPHANIE AYERS

Blurb

What’s a honeymoon without a few ghosts tagging along? Much to Carmen Bleu’s chagrin, that’s exactly what’s brewing. Only this time, it’s a haunted coffee shop in the tropical paradise of Jamaica, and her best friend, Hester Razzlebaum, isn’t there to help her out.

In a land where voodoo is the norm and ghosts don’t just go away, will Carmen be able to solve this Rastafarian mystery on her own? Or will she lose everything she’s worked for and her new husband in the process?

JAMAICAN ME CRAZY
A Coffee Shop Series Novella
BY STEPHANIE AYERS

Excerpt

{Carmen} released Jonas and explored the lagoon. It wasn’t deep, but it wasn’t shallow either. An eerie song found its way into Carmen’s head. She’d never heard it before.

“Where’s the music coming from?” she asked Jonas.

“Music?” His forehead wrinkled. “I don’t hear any music, unless you’re talking about the soft sounds of the flowing water.”

“No, it’s more than that. It’s like reggae without drums. It’s weird yet digs into your soul. You can’t hear it?”

“No, I don’t think so, but occasionally you’ll find a band playing on the beach, so maybe that’s what you hear.”

His dismissive answer didn’t suit Carmen. He couldn’t hear the music, yet he offered an explanation for why she could. It just didn’t make sense. If a band played on the beach, he’d hear it, too. She didn’t have supernatural hearing.

“Wouldn’t you hear it then, too?” She moved closer to the water flowing over the rocks and thought she saw movement behind the cascade. “I think someone’s behind the falls.”

Another flash of movement convinced her someone or something definitely lurked behind the falling water.

“We’re alone,” Jonas said.

Carmen pointed  to the place where she’d seen movement. “Back there.”

Jonas’ eyes followed the direction of her finger, but saw nothing. “Nah. It’s just a trick of the light on the water. There’s nothing there.”

That’s what he thinks.

“Who said that? Show yourself,” Carmen demanded.

Jonas groaned, his head shaking. “Seriously? I can’t take you anywhere.”

“I’m sorry. I wish I had control, but I don’t. They just pop up whenever, wherever without a care about how they might be invading someone’s honeymoon.”

Yuh dint have to respond, mon.

“Just show yourself. It’s bad enough communicating with ghosts, but it’s worse when it’s just a disembodied voice.”

A young man with golden brown skin and sun-bleached dreads materialized in front of her.

“Well, that’s better. What are you doing here?”

Mi don’t know.

“What do you need from me?”

Nothing, mon. Mi just looking for a place to play.

The music started up again, and Carmen realized it was the ghost’s memory.

“Who are you?”

Sanka, mon. Dint yuh eva hear me play?

“It’s Sanka, Jonas. The ghost of Wah Brews.”

“Well, what does he want?” followed a deep sigh.

“Nothing, he claims. He’s just looking for a place to play.”

“Sanka, the reggae singer?” Jonas’ jaw dropped.

“That’s what he said.”

“Interesting. Legend says he somehow managed to drown in the falls. Some think he was held down until he stopped breathing, others say it was suicide. Either way, it’s a pretty tragic tale.”

Him’s right. Only I dint kill miself.

“He says he didn’t kill himself. Why would anyone kill him?”

Him stole mi song and mi girl, then silenced me so mi can’t tell no one, mon.

About Author Stephanie Ayers…

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