Mystery
Date Published: June 10, 2025
Publisher: MindStir Media
In Murder on the Squid Row Run, oboist Georgiana Quilter is finally hitting her stride—with a dream orchestra job and a new apartment. But when she agrees to pose as a celebrity’s girlfriend during a glamorous international sailing rally, things take a dark and deadly turn.
A body turns up on board. A child disappears. A saboteur strikes. As the Squid Row Run heads from San Diego to Cabo San Lucas, Georgiana races to uncover secrets buried at sea—all while navigating a fake romance that’s becoming dangerously real.
Perfect for fans of cozy mysteries, strong female sleuths, and nautical adventures, authentic maritime details inspired by the author’s own seven-year circumnavigation. Suspense, wit, and danger at every port
Love mystery series set on the water? This is your next great read.
Seadon grabbed my hand and pulled me down into Arceneaux’s din-
ghy. I fell and barely had time to scramble into a seat. I madly grabbed
at the hand straps before Arceneaux gunned the motor and we roared
away. Life vests came flying after us––Seadon expertly plucked them out
of the air. We took off toward a terrifying fireball. Shouldn’t we be fleeing in
the opposite direction? My lack of a backbone was embarrassing—not my
proudest moment.
“Can you swim?” Arceneaux yelled at us. Seadon and I nodded. “We
need to look for anybody in the water. Look for blood.” Arceneaux slowed
down to circle the burning explosion and its wreckage. I searched from my
side while Seadon scanned his own. Arceneaux surveyed the area forward.
My eyes watered from the smoke, making it hard to see. I had that
licking-an-ashtray taste in my mouth and couldn’t stop coughing, so I pulled
my T-shirt off, dipped it in water, then fixed it around my mouth and nose. I
held my breath which for a professional oboist can be pretty darn long.
Debris surrounded us but was no longer dropping from above.
Should I be afraid fuel tanks might explode? Through the smoke I could
make out an entire deck, in one piece, floating in front of us. A wooden
eyebrow—formerly cabin house trim—burned while portions of the
fiberglass were melting and misshapen. I couldn’t see any of the hull.
Had it already sunk?
“I’m going to circle back again.” Arceneaux shouted above our out-
board’s propeller noise. “The explosion probably blew crewmembers off
this way with the deck.” He waved a hand portside. Visibility remained
so bad that it looked like we three were all alone in a kind of apocalyptic
hellscape. I wondered if we would just find body parts. How could anyone
have survived this?
“There! I think I see someone!” Excited, Seadon pointed and care-
fully stood up. He started coughing but didn’t close his eyes.
Arceneaux immediately steered in that direction. “I see! Good job,
Seadon!”
An unmoving body floated face down, covered in soot and black
crud. Arceneaux maneuvered as close as he could. Seadon donned his
life vest, pulled his phone out of his pocket, and tossed it to me. “Give
Arceneaux GPS coordinates.”
Releasing my hand strap death grip, I caught the phone, and then
pulled my T-shirt down from my mouth.
Author Julia Shovein brings authenticity and edge to her mystery novels, drawn from a life spent at sea and in service. After a thirty-year career as a university professor of nursing (Professor Emeritus), Julia retired and embarked on a global sailing adventure with her husband, circumnavigating the globe over seven years.
She lived and wrote in exotic locations like New Zealand, Turkey, and London’s St. Katherine Dock. Upon returning home to Paradise, California, Julia and her husband narrowly escaped the devastating Campfire wildfire. These life-altering experiences shaped her writing—and her heroine, Georgiana Quilter.
Now living in Bremerton, Washington, with her husband Horst and husky Blue, Julia is a proud member of the Poulsbo Yacht Club. She’s truly, as Cruising World puts it, “the real thing.”
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