BLUE ON 30A

 Wrong place, wrong time. Claire’s life is turned upside down when a video goes viral depicting her as a vicious psychopath. Things go from bad to worse. Accused of murder, Claire and Detective Drakos work to unravel the mystery surrounding three unrelated homicides. Set on the beautiful Emerald Coast, this fast-paced thriller will keep you enthralled until the very last page. 

Available on Amazon:https://www.amazon.com/BLUE-30A-Emerald-Coast-Mysteries/dp/B0C2RG16BL/ref=sr_1_1?crid=TQ9MLCI3MXKB&keywords=blue+on+30a+-+deborah+rine&qid=1698347693&sprefix=Blue+on+30A%2Caps%2C121&sr=8-1

RIPTIDE ON 30A

 Here it is! Book 5 in the Emerald Coast Mystery Series! 

Claire had never been happier. The honeymoon in Thailand was perfect. But the flight home to the Florida Panhandle was long and exhausting. As they made their final descent into the Destin Airport, Claire shook Hobbs and called his name, but he was unresponsive. As Claire screamed for help, a doctor came across the aisle and after a short examination declared Hobbs dead. As the story unfolds, Claire descends into a riptide of conflicting emotions and dark secrets. She realizes she never knew Hobbs at all. Their life together was based on a series of lies. Who was Hobbs? And why are the FBI and CIA investigating his death? This fast-paced novel takes place along the exquisite Emerald Coast with its beautiful beaches and charming towns. 

Available on Amazon as a paperback or ebook!

Timeline for Posts

Hello, Bonjour, Buongiorno, Buenos Dias,

Here is a timeline of the posts about my life in Europe. I’ve included the date of the post and the country I lived in. To read the story chronologically, they should be read backwards starting with the earliest date. For example, our arrival in Verona, Italy is described in the March 9, 2016 post and continues through our departure described in the June 5, 2016 post. These posts were the basis of my novel, VERONA WITH LOVE. 

                                                As an Adult and Young Mother:

City/Country                           Arrival                                     Departure                                           

Verona, Italy                           Mar 9, 2016                            Jun. 5, 2016

Milan, Italy                              Jun. 10, 2016                          Jul. 22, 2016

Summer in France                   Jul. 29, 2016

Waterloo, Belgium                  Aug. 5, 2016                            Sept. 9, 2016

St. Nom-la-Bretèche               Sept. 16, 2016                         Oct. 21, 2016

            France

 

                                                As a Teenager

 

Montmorency, France            Oct. 28, 2016                          Dec. 31, 2016

Göteborg, Sweden                  Jan. 6, 2017                             Feb. 17, 2017

Goodbye Sweden

In June I returned home to Washington by ocean liner. It was not as much fun without Gudrun. Guess what? The staff and crew on board thought I was Swedish...my Swedish had become that good! The seas were calm and I didn't experience the nausea and discomfort we'd had the previous year.

The meals were abundant and delicious. I found plenty of partners to dance the night away.

I hope you have enjoyed this blog as much as I have enjoyed writing it. It was magical to return to all the people and places that added depth and sparkle to my life. I encourage all of you to take the plunge, hop on a plane and open your life to new adventures.

Skiing in Kitzbühel and Youthful Carousing

Cable cars above Kitzbühel

In February the Majornas high school closed for Winter Break.  As it was explained to me, Swedish students needed to escape the long dark nights and get out into the fresh air and sunshine.  Our school organized a ski week to Kitzbühel, Austria.  We were housed in a gasthaus, which was a student pension. The accommodations weren’t fancy, but comfortable. We had fluffy duvets. These were new to me since they hadn’t hit the American market yet. The furniture was rudimentary and the bathroom was down the hall.

Our pension looked a bit like this.

We were located a little out of town but close to the ski runs.  I had not skied much in my life.  When I was 10, I was invited for a ski vacation in Vermont with a friend and her family.  I fell down and broke my ankle, on the first day, so I spent the week on the sofa, reading.

Here is a picture of Gudrun taken that fall by an apple tree. I should have included it earlier.

During the week in Kitzbühel, my skiing improved quite a bit and I became increasingly adventuresome.  As I remember Gudrun was more experienced than I.  Along with racing down the mountains, we were also entranced by the ski instructors who seemed incredibly handsome and alluring.

A view of Kitzbühel

The gasthaus provided nourishing meals.  I remember the delicious kaiser rolls served for breakfast. Wikipedia tells me: “Kaiser rolls have existed in a recognizable form at least since prior to 1760. They are thought to have been named to honor Emperor (Kaiser) Franz Joseph I of Austria."

Every morning they were served with butter, jam and a delicious white cheese. I enjoyed this repast at a sunny table with a view of snow covered mountains.

Dinners were hearty with pork roast or sausages or maybe Wiener Schnitzel.  Then maybe there was a piece of apple strudel or Gugelhupf for dessert.  I doubt we had Sacher Torte but I’ll include a picture of it here…with plenty of whipped cream. Austria has so many delicious dishes.

Crispy Wiener Schnitzel

Apfelstrudel

Sacher Torte from the famous Sacher Hotel.

One evening we all loaded into a bus and went into town to see the sights and visit the cafés and bars.  I went with a group of friends into a rollicking bar.  There was singing and toasting. Being a neophyte I drank several glasses of sweet Austrian wine.  It probably tasted like soda pop to my uneducated palette.  That night, back in the hotel, I was sick as a dog.

Now let’s get back to those ski instructors.  Three of them invited, Gudrun, me and another Swedish girl to go dancing at a local hot spot.  We got all dolled up with skirts, high heels and stockings. (I can’t believe we even brought such finery on a ski trip.  But this was the 60’s)  One of the ski hunks had a car and we piled in.  It was a drive of some distance on narrow, icy mountain roads.  We never arrived at our destination because the car broke down.  The guys fooled around under the hood for a while but couldn't get the vehicle to start.  It was decided that we would begin walking until a car drove by or we passed a chalet. In retrospect this seems like a bad decision.  Perhaps the ski gods knew of a house down the road.  My German was rudimentary so I probably didn’t understand the decision to venture forth into the cold.

I don’t remember how long we walked in our high heels and stockings, slipping and sliding…and freezing. At long last we arrived at a snow-covered chalet.  A middle-aged couple welcomed us in and hustled us before a roaring fire.  They brought steaming mugs of tea laced with rum or maybe Schnapps.  I remember that my feet were freezing and my teeth were chattering uncontrollably.

Much later we got back to the Gasthaus.  It was past curfew. The door was locked so our companions hoisted us up onto a low roof and we managed to open the window to our room and climb in.  That night we three girls piled into one bed with extra comforters and cuddled to keep warm.

The next day, when I really looked at the ski instructors, I realized that they had lost much of their shiny veneer.  

  

Sexual Mores, Sandwiches and Speeches

While in Sweden I made a good friend.  Her name was Barbro and we felt a rapport right from the start. She must be commended for putting up with my broken Swedish.  Together we strolled the streets of Göteborg; window shopping and chatting.  We visited a couple of museums and went out for lunch.  I remember the delicious smörgås (open-faced sandwiches) that were much too pretty to eat.

When plans were shaping up for me to spend a year in Sweden my parents were concerned about the liberal "sexual mores" in Sweden. I mention this because Barbro had a boyfriend who went to another high school.  During the week she slept at her house part of the time and in her boyfriend’s bed on other nights.  At that time in America, this would have been shocking…and probably today as well. But her parents seemed to think this was just fine.

Several times during my stay, I was invited to give presentations to English classes at various schools in the area.  The choice of subject matter was left up to me.  The English teachers just wanted their students to have a chance to listen to American English. 

Initially, I talked about school, current music and the like. But I didn’t feel these subjects were weighty enough.  I decided to research American Indians, Religion and the National Parks.  What I needed was access to the internet so I could google these lofty issues but this was back in the dark ages. I needed an encyclopedia.

St. Andrews Anglican Church

I had attended services at  St. Andrew’s Anglican Church. This was an English language church in Göteborg. The Rector hailed from New Zealand and was all fire and brimstone…not into an up-lifting message.  But the church had a lending library that included a variety of books and encyclopedias.  I spent several weekends researching the culture and habits of the Arapahoe and Comanche Plains Indians vs.the Chippewa and Shawnee Woodlands tribes. In school my teachers had thrown those diverse peoples into the same basket. 

A Comanche squaw out on the plains.

The Chippewa claim to have the most beautiful women.

My research took on a life of its own. I remember studying the Mormon religion and wondering how anyone could take Joseph Smith for real. Then there was Mary Baker Eddy and the Christian Scientists. Somehow I claimed to be knowledgeable on these extensive subjects.  I blush now at the naïveté of my 18-year-old self.  I would have been better off discussing Elvis Presley, rock n’ roll, stirrup pants or fried clams at Howard Johnson’s.

Here is my 18-year-old self.  This was my Swedish school photo.

Swedish Christmas and a Memorable Train Trip

In Sweden the Christmas Season begins with the festival of Saint Lucia. She is credited with bringing food to the persecuted Christians who were hiding out in the Roman catacombs in the year 304.  She wore a crown of candles to find her way so her hands were free to carry bags of food.  In Sweden on December 13th, young girls don a white robe and a crown of candles and bring Pepparkakor (gingersnaps) to shut-ins.

Gudrun, my Swedish sister, wore the crown and brought Lussekatter to us for breakfast on Saint Lucia's day. These are buns flavored with saffron and dotted with raisins.

Lussekatter - St. Lucia buns

In the Jungner family Christmas was celebrated for three days.  Each day we ate special dishes and relatives visited.  One day there was a buffet with cold meats, herring in different guises, salads, meatballs and special potato dishes.  During the season we drank glögg (spiced mulled wine) on various occasions.

Glögg - warm spiced wine often served with raisins and almonds.

Gunnar, my adopted Swedish father had a special gift for me.  In a card shaped like a car, he enclosed a round-trip ticket to Paris.  There was a message thanking me for acting as chauffeur for the family.  What a kind and thoughtful gift!  I would be able to spend a week visiting my French family that I hadn’t seen for 2 years.

This trip turned out to be a riotous experience. The train left in the late afternoon.  We were to arrive in Paris in the morning. I had a seat in a couchette compartment.  This compartment had three seats on each side in the day time.  At night the seats became beds for two individuals. Above bunks folded down out of the wall to form two additional beds.  So at night six people could sleep quite comfortably.  Normally you were given a pillow and a blanket.

Daytime couchette compartment

Night time.

As luck would have it, I shared my compartment with 5 other young people.  When I slid open the door a young man got up and offered to put my suitcase up above. He introduced himself and explained that he was going to Paris to visit friends. In our compartment there were 3 guys and 3 gals. We were all young and exuberant. Each of us represented a different nationality and spoke a couple of languages. From the start we chattered away translating for each other. This brought on gales of laughter.

At Malmo, the entire train was put on a ferry to cross the Baltic Sea to Germany.  The train cars were rolled down into the hold of the ship.  Once the ferry had left port we could exit our train car and go up on deck.  There was a restaurant up there and a dance band.  The three fellows invited us girls for dinner and dancing. What a lark!  We danced until the band gave up.  Then we all went below to go to bed together in our cozy couchettes.  I remember we told stories and jokes. As I fell asleep I listened to them being translated from language to language followed by a ripple of laughter.

How wonderful to be 18 - charging into life, unfettered and joyful! I was incredibly lucky!