Medium in Paradise: A Humorous Paradise Romance

by Moray, Tabby

  Medium in Paradise

  A Humorous Paradise Romance

  by Tabby Moray

  This book is purely a work of fiction. If in any way it resembles your real life, send me an email right away so I can uncover your secrets. The names, characters, most places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places or persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental.

  Copyright 2016 by Tabby Moray

  Cover Design by janielescueta on fiverr.com

  Published by Salty Gurl Books

  Hold on just a minute, I need to finish up eating my chocolate and drinking my pinot noir. Ok, here goes: this book is dedicated to all my lovers of romance, hunks, swaying palm trees and general sexiness. Here’s to you!

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  If you’d like to know all of secrets, email me at

  tabbymoray@yahoo.com

  OR

  Go to My Page at:

  www.tabbymoray.com

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  SNEAK PEEK: TREASURE HUNTER IN PARADISE

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Ok, people! Give me ten more!”

  A collective groan echoed around the room as people of various sizes and stages of athleticism strained to complete their final set of squats.

  “Dammit—are you trying to kill us or get us in shape?” A sweat soaked Molly Laurence glared at her through damp tendrils of sandy blonde hair, thighs trembling with her efforts. A plump older woman with a cheerful disposition, she’d signed up to Dina’s free fitness class declaring to all who would listen that her goal was to lose fifteen pounds.

  “I’m trying to kill you, of course. Lower, Molly, lower.” Dina Douglass grinned, marching over to the grimacing Molly and firmly pushing her down into the correct position. She was rewarded with a long, torturous moan. “You can thank me when you have thighs as tight as a cheerleader and an ass as taut as a bowstring.”

  “I was fine with a tofu-like consistency,” Paula Ingleson grumbled. Her face was a picture of concentration as drops of sweat beaded on her forehead, pasting her Marilyn Monroe-esqe bob to the sides of her flushed cheeks. Slim, Paula was usually a well-put together woman with a cool, unruffled persona. Dina was secretly glad to see her sweaty and struggling, feeling that it made her more human.

  “If you were fine with pudding thighs then you should’ve joined Planet Fitness and quit after the first month,” she said, relentlessly.

  Dina walked to the front of the community center room where she provided pro bono fitness classes every evening on Monday, Wednesday and Friday in May and June of each year. She surveyed her class with the satisfaction of an enthusiastic teacher overseeing a classroom full of preschoolers. It was Friday of the third week of an eight week session and it was going pretty well. She’d only had three students from the original twenty-five drop out and those remaining seemed pretty determined to finish the class.

  “Should’ve been my drill sergeant in the Army,” a heavily breathing man in his fifties wheezed, his pale skin glowing a peculiar purplish-red. “Pretty sure I wouldn’t have turned into a career man.”

  “Remember, ‘No Whiners’ is my motto.” Dina suppressed an evil chuckle as another round of groans rang through the room. “Any more of that and everybody will drop and give me twenty.”

  Mouths snapped shut, the majority of groaning ceased and the class finished up their exercises with barely a peep.

  **

  “We really do appreciate you offerin’ this class for free.” A limping Eileen Sutherland, a plump blonde with heavy hips and thickly rouged little mouth, was followed by Paula Ingleson and Molly Laurence. They walked over to where Dina was packing up her gym bag.

  “Just my way of giving back to the community I love so much,” she responded briskly.

  One third of The Southern Ladies Club of St. Simons Island was in her class, including the ladies standing before her. Dina threw them a brief smile, hoping the chatty trio of fifty-something blondes would get the message and move on.

  Paula, the leader of the group, spoke up first. “That was one hell of a class. I didn’t think I was going to make it.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t that bad,” Dina said.

  “I’ll bet that set of fitness videos you’re starrin’ in has made you an overnight star, huh?” Molly asked, a hint of envy in her small hazel eyes.

  “Not a star like Shawn T or anything, but I do okay.” Dina repressed a sigh. There wasn’t a day that went by when someone didn’t ask about the set of fitness videos she’d debuted a couple of months before. While she didn’t have an infomercial and most people didn’t know her, in the small community of Georgia’s St. Simons Island, she may as well have been a superstar.

  “I can only hope to get in half the shape you’re in,” Paula simpered. Patting her platinum bob, she eyed Dina’s figure, then looked at her own with a frown.

  “You can do it. All you have to do is work hard and keep your eyes on the prize.” It was a canned response, but it was the best she could do considering she just wanted to get the hell outta there.

  “So, look—we had a quick question we wanted to ask you,” Eileen blurted none too gracefully. The other two women gave their friend a shifty-eyed look before turning their attention to Dina. “Are you related to a Sally Mae Douglass? You look so much like her. You have the same brown eyes, the same facial structure, you even wear your hair in a long braid like she used to.”

  “Great, here we go.” Dina thought. “I’m gonna make a wild guess and say her next question will be, ‘Are you psychic, too?’”

  “Yes, she was my great-grandmother.”

  “I knew it!” Paula said triumphantly, scrutinizing her as though she were extracting her great-grandmother from her dark brown eyes, copper-colored skin and the thick swirling hair she always kept braided. “So then, are you—are you psychic, too?”

  Bingo!

  “No, I’m afraid the gift of sight wasn’t passed on to me.” And technically that was true. She was a Medium and had the ability to communicate with ghosts. Had she been psychic and had the ability to see the future, maybe she wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.

  “Oh,” Paula murmured, one red swathed fingernail touching her pursed lips. The word was laden with disappointment. Almost as though had she answered in the affirmative, they were going to corner her into doing an impromptu reading. “I met with your great-grandmother several times. She was an amazing woman. Still holds the record for longest living person on St. Simon. I always wished I had a gift like hers.” Her tone and expression were wistful.

  “Believe me, being tortured by visions from other people’s lives isn’t exactly something you’d want to be saddled with.”


  An awkward silence followed her unintentionally harsh words and Dina felt a stab of regret at having uttered them. Her great-grandmother had never complained even one day in her gracious life, accepting the gift God had given her as just what it was. She had no business sullying her memory like that. Just because she’d never come to terms with her ability to chit-chat with the dead didn’t give her the right to lay the same onus on her family members.

  “I’m—we’re sorry.” They appeared embarrassed and uncomfortable and Dina felt even worse. “We didn’t know it was that bad for your great-grandmother.”

  “It wasn’t,” she quickly replied. “She had no problem sharing her gift with the world and she would’ve been happy to know she made such a wonderful impression on you ladies.”

  “Ok, I guess we’ll see you in class on Friday.”

  “I look forward to it.” Throwing her one last uncertain smile, the ladies limped away, chattering in low voices, their conversation more likely than not centered around her.

  Fat Psycho

  The nickname floated unbidden to her mind; the remnant of painful teenage years she’d rather leave buried in the past. Being a Medium wasn’t something she shared, nor was it something she wanted people to know. Having been privy on more than one occasion to people’s fear and disbelief, she’d learned her ‘gifts’ were better served hidden. But living on St. Simons, it was hard to remain anonymous because her family was so infamous in the area.

  The tryst between Dina’s Scottish great-great-great grandmother and a slave witch doctor was well-documented within the halls of the local historical society and many stories—some true, most not—floated around about her scandalous ancestor. One thing that was a fact, she’d been a powerful psychic, and from her flowed the gifts bequeathed to all the women on her mother’s side of the family.

  Tossing her gym bag over her shoulder, she sighed, giving the room one last look before walking out and waving goodbye to Mrs. Feldman, the assistant manager of the community center. Walking down a short flight of cement stairs leading to the small parking lot, she stopped briefly to enjoy the view of the bay gently rippling against the shoreline behind the community center. The sun was slowly sinking down below the horizon, going out in a splashy display of peaches and pinks.

  Thanks to a wealthy benefactor, this was the only community center in Georgia that had a boat dock and sat on a stretch of prime beach front property. Due to its small size and odd shape, with public funding burning in the municipalities pockets and for lack of anything better to do, they had decided to erect the community center in 1969 and had carved a small park out of the remaining land several years later.

  A brisk salt scented breeze blew through her hair as she tossed her bag into the backseat of her VW convertible, the cry of seagulls overhead nearly drowning out the sound of traffic on the bridge across from the center. Her cell phone rang as she turned the key in the ignition.

  “Hello, Dina speaking.”

  “Guess whose house keys are sitting on my desk?” her realtor said on the other end.

  “After all this time and money they better be mine.” Dina put the car in gear, her heart giving a joyous thump of anticipation as she drove out into the early May evening.

  “Why don’t we meet at your new house?”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Dina pulled up in front of the quaint, lavender-colored craftsman style bungalow and sat in the car drinking in the sight of the spacious rocking chair porch. White shutters and a generous stretch of emerald green grass rolled out to the sidewalk fronting the house. It was hard to believe all of this was finally hers.

  “What are you waitin’ for?” Janie Cook yelled out of her window in her perfect southern peach accent.

  Parked in the driveway, Janie got out of her car, teetering on heels that were far too high for selling real estate. She was petite, with a shining helmet of blonde hair and a form-fitting suit that showed off her trim, full-busted figure. Beaming, she held the house keys out as Dina got out of the car.

  “I’m so excited!” She grinned, nearly jumping with joy. The weight of the keys in her hand finally made the dream she’d been trying to fulfill for the past couple of months, a reality.

  “I’ve got somethin’ else for you, too.”

  Tossing her gym bag into the trunk, Dina followed Janie as she retrieved an oversized basket brimming with expensive goodies from the trunk of her car. Chatting, they walked up the sidewalk and mounted the four stairs leading to the front door. The chirp of crickets shyly made themselves heard as evening encroached, the sound blending with the soft brush of wind through the leaves of the white azaleas blooming on either side of the porch. Turning the key in the lock she pushed the door open, slowly walking onto gleaming oak floors smelling of a fresh coat of shellac.

  “God, it took him the longest to agree, didn’t it?” Janie uttered, rushing inside on a tidal wave of energy real estate agents seemed to have by the gallon. “For a minute there I thought he was gonna back out of the whole deal.”

  “He better be glad he didn’t otherwise he would’ve been in for one hell of a court battle and you know I don’t like to lose.”

  “Don’t I know it.” There was a glint in her eye and Dina knew she was recalling the hardball tactics she’d used to negotiate the price of the house down. “This is for my ruthless little negotiator,” she said, handing her the basket and giving her a cheek to cheek kiss.

  “Thanks, girl. I really appreciate all you did for me to make this happen.” Dina placed the basket on the granite counter in the small, galley-style kitchen, strolling over to take a look out of the large window overlooking the waving rose garden on the side of the house.

  “Oh, the late nights, lack of sleep and extreme stress is all just part of the job,” Janie said, waving her hand and chuckling. “I figger you can repay me by invitin’ me over for the dinner party I just know you’re gonna have.”

  “Janie, you know I don’t do entertaining,” she warned, turning to look at her.

  “I know, I know. But I figger this one time you can make an exception, right?” The look of the hardnosed saleswoman settled on her face and Dina knew this would be a losing argument. “I mean, how often does a girl buy a li’l jewel like this? Besides, with all the money I saved you, you can hire a caterer!”

  “I’m just not good at entertaining like you are,” Dina hedged. In the six months since she’d first met Janie, she’d been invited over to her large, colonial style home twice for her legendary parties. The food had been incredible, the guests the Who’s-Who of the island and Janie had been the gracious, I-know-a-little-something-about-everything-and-everyone kind of host that always made her guests come back for more.

  She liked Janie a lot. She knew her drive to get what she wanted equaled or surpassed her own and as such, she could be incredibly persistent. Hence, one didn’t turn down someone with the connections Janie had on the island and in Georgia proper. It would almost be like business suicide. In a place like St. Simons, turning a powerful ally down could be as unfortunate as a pound cake with a sugar streak.

  “That’s probably just ‘cause you need more practice. All self-respectin’ southern gals should know how to entertain, Dina. And as an accomplished businesswoman it’s high-time you stick your toes in the water.”

  “I don’t think so, Janie--,” she began.

  “I won’t take no for an answer.” Her smile was sweet as she strutted over to the door, her navy-blue eyes shining with determination. “My suggestion is that you plan it for some time in late June. That way it’s after Memorial Day and before the Fourth of July kicks in, which is when I’m hosting my big party. We don’t want to have any nasty party competition, right?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Oh, it’ll be so much fun!”

  “We’ll see.” Dina’s voice was firm but her resolve had melted into a puddle of goo. It appeared as though a dinner party would be held at her house sometime in late June.


  “Okay, darlin’. I’ll contact you real soon to help you send out an evite for the first of what will be many parties in your new house. Toodles!”

  Waving her off, Dina wondered just what the hell she’d gotten herself into.

  **

  “Congratulations, babe. I know how excited you must be to finally move into your new house,” Anthony’s deep voice said as she picked up her phone.

  “It’s about time you returned my call,” Dina snapped. She stopped her packing, clearing a space and sitting down on the couch. “I get a few hours, I do. But I called you three days ago, Anthony.”

  “I know and I’m sorry. I’ve just been swamped with meetings. You’d be surprised how late the Japanese stay out considering how early they get up. I don’t know how they do it.”

  “You look like you’re doing just fine if your Facebook page is anything to go by.”

  “What are you talking about?

  “Beautiful, eyes as big as a baby doe, pale skin, thick black hair swishing down to a tiny waist that your arm just happened to be wrapped around. Ring any bells?”

  “You must be talking about, Ayako. She’s the translator that’s been helping me over here. I told her all about you.”

  “Right.”

  She hated how bitter she sounded. But he was the first person she’d called after getting the keys to her house and he hadn’t bothered to return it until days later. It told her in more than words just where she fell on his list of priorities.

  Her mother had been telling her Anthony wasn’t right for her since she’d first met him. But had she listened to her mother’s words of wisdom? No, because for once, she’d wanted to make her own decisions about a man without any of her mother’s unwanted psychic insights. Anthony was a good man, he just needed a little tweaking, was all.

  “Dina, don’t be like that.” A heavy sigh accompanied his plea. “I’ve just been so busy and then when I get back to my room I’m exhausted. It just kept slipping my mind to call.”