21 May Pam Records Tangled in Water #HistoricalFiction #Prohibition #Mermaid #BlogTour #TheCoffeePotBookClub @thecoffeepotbookclub

FEATURED AUTHOR: PAM RECORDS

I‘m delighted to welcome Pam Records as the featured author in The Coffee Pot Book Club Blog Tour being held between May 19th – 23th,  2025. Pam Records is the author of the Historical Fiction, Tangled in Water, published by Historium Press on March 18th, 2025 (418 pages).

Below are highlights of Tangled in Water, the author bio of Pam Records, and an excerpt from her book

Tour Schedule Page: https://thecoffeepotbookclub.blogspot.com/2025/04/blog-tour-tangled-in-water-by-pam-records.html

HIGHLIGHTS: TANGLED IN WATER

Tangled in Water
By Pam Records

1932. Natalia is 16 and a bootlegger’s daughter, playing the mermaid mascot on a rundown paddlewheel used to entertain brewers and distributors.

A sequined costume hides her scarred and misshaped legs, but it can’t cover up the painful memories and suspicions that haunt her. An eccentric healer who treats patients with Old Country tonics, tries to patch wounds, but only adds to the heartache. A fierce storm threatens to destroy everything, including a stash of stolen jewels.

1941. Prohibition is over, but the same henchmen still run the show. Nattie’s new mermaid act is more revealing, with more at risk. When the dry-docked paddlewheel is bought by the US Navy for training exercises, the pressure escalates further.

Can Nattie entice a cocky US Navy officer to help her gain access to the ship for one last chance to confront her past, settle scores, and retrieve the hidden loot? Is there a new course ahead?

Universal Buy Links:

Ebook: https://geni.us/cNfENHQ

Paperback: https://geni.us/3IgN95U

Hardcover: https://geni.us/EzoT1

AUTHOR BIO: PAM RECORDS

Pam and her husband, Mark, recently uprooted from the Midwest to move to Savannah, Georgia, the perfect place for enjoying the beach, historic architecture and Spanish moss.

She’s recently retired from writing content for software companies and now focuses on writing fiction, camping, and exploring historic cities.

Pam is the author of three historic novels.

Author Links:

Website: www.PamRecords.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100090920739720

LinkedIn: www.linkedin.com/in/pam-records-writes

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/pam.records.author/

Amazon Author Page: https://amazon.com/author/pamrecords

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/19472278.Pam_Records

EXCERPT: TANGLED IN WATER

Nattie listened for engine sounds and looked over the railing. On the main deck, passengers were finally arriving. In small clusters they strolled up to the ticket counter, carrying small valises for the three-day trip. Some had porters carrying a travel trunk. Some men had nothing. They didn’t plan to sleep, it seemed.

The onslaught of passenger voices was sharp-edged against the metal hull, ricocheting from rust patches and layers of paint over iron bones. Teeth-hurting noises, metal scraping on metal, came in bursts. Tugs in the harbor made big hoot-hoot bellows, like jumbo-sized mama owls calling their owlets for dinner. The owl babies never answered. Maybe they had deformed legs, too, and were ashamed. Maybe they were waiting for the mutiny at midnight, the one the fog spirits had wanted her to join.

She thought about slipping away before passengers had a chance to stroll up to the Mermaid Lagoon. She could use some quiet time in the rat-runs, the crew-only passageways and secret-door vaults that crisscrossed the ship, places to hide bootleg barrels in case of a raid. They were also a good hiding place for a mermaid sick of being on display.

The water was choppy, the wind gusting in haphazard whooshes and wails. The up-and-down motion of the boat was making her gastric abnormalities act up. Being sickly was inconvenient.

Margret would be by soon, making sure she was ready for passengers. Nattie checked the ink on her arms. Some scales were forever ink under her skin. Other rows were added with a fountain pen as needed. Drawn with water-blue ink and a very unsteady hand, the scales looked like ivy groping on wind. Perhaps she’d had too many dribbles and maraschino cherries from discarded Polynesian Passions when she did the last touch-up.

Nattie rubbed some spit polish on her bare shoulders, making the mix of old and new ink scales glisten like she was fresh out of the lake. Men liked her to look slippery like that, or so they said. Then she adjusted the shells hanging around her neck to make sure all her right parts were covered. No point in giving away the goods, Mimi always said.

She finger-combed her hair, tucking the big tangles behind her ears, letting the ribbons knotted with pearls and strings of sequins skim her neck and bare shoulders. She hoped she looked at least a little bit lovely. Jakub had promised he would come by. He still might.

On each side of Nattie’s tank, hanging blue and green scarves draped off a small dressing room for her. She wheeled her rollie chair through the silk curtains for one more check of how she looked.

A mirror, bolted to a metal beam, was cracked so her face looked sliced and spliced, put together by a blind man. Bangs fell over her eyes. Her hair was a dirty blond color, ordinary. But her eyes were vibrant, turquoise, like still lagoons at twilight. A saxophone player had told her that once. He smelled like BO and she told him so. He didn’t make her sit on his lap after that.

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