Page 60 of Transatlantic Terror Cruise

Dear Elodie,

I noticed the ship offers a couples mixology class in an intimate setting. The brochure mentions hands-on instruction and exotic ingredients. Is this worth the splurge?

Cocktail Curious

My thirsty thrill seeker,

Intimate is putting it mildly. That private bar setup is like a playground for grown-ups with all those fresh fruits to squeeze, spirits to sample, and ice toproperlyhandle. And don’t get me started on the proper technique for shaking versus stirring.

The bartender’s counter is surprisingly comfortable (ask me how I know), and those barstools are engineered for more than just sitting. Though I do recommend pacing yourtaste testing. Last week, a couple got a bit too creative with the garnish tray, and the lime wedges may never recover.

Pro tip: Book the last session of the evening. The mood lighting is better, and the bartender knows when to become conveniently nearsighted. Plus, those cocktail shakers are an excellent way to cover up sound.

Mixing with mischief,

XOXO Elodie

It takes lessthan two minutes for Bess, Nettie, Tinsley, Wes, and me to boot scoot to the big midnight shindig we’ve not-so-patiently been waiting for. And it seems as if the rest of the folks who are here for the podcast cruise have shown up in spades as well.

The formal dining room has transformed into something caught between an elegant soirée and a crime scene—if crime scenes came with ice sculptures and chocolate fountains. Bright yellow caution tape is strewn up all around, and there are even several chalk outlines that lie over the black granite floors, making it look as if a massacre has already occurred.

There’s even a murder merch table set up to the side with what looks like every available mug, T-shirt, and tote bag on the planet vying for our attention.

Moody soft rock music mingles with the murmur of conversation and the clink of crystal, while the dim lighting casts shadows across the room that make everyone look either sinister or gorgeous. Sometimes both.

“Would you look at this spread?” Bess says, still riding on the high of that thousand-dollar win. “Good thing I’ve got an appetite.”

“Yeah, you would,” Nettie grouses. “And just as I managed to lose mine.”

Suffice it to say, as inflated as Bess is, Nettie is deflated equally as much if not more.

“I’m so sorry, Nettie,” I say, giving her a quick hug. “If you want, I’ll help you organize a class action lawsuit against the ship’s casino.”

Wes nearly snaps his neck as he turns my way.

“I’m kidding,” I say with a little laugh, and Nettie growls in response.

“Face it.” Nettie moans. “I’m a loser.”

“Nettie, no, that’s not true,” I protest her way.

“Don’t you worry about her, Trixie,” Bess says while taking Nettie by the hand. “Come on, hot shot, the only losers around here will be the people who get in line after us at the buffet. Let’s get over there and show them what we’re made of—and how much we can put away. I’m thinking we go in hard and start off with two plates each.”

“I’m starting with three,” Nettie shoots back.

“But you’ve only got two hands,” Bess cries.

“The devil is in the details. I’ve also got two feet,” she grouses back before eyeing a tower of donuts labeledRing of Evidence. “Donuts! Heaven help my diet.”

“I think your diet was pronounced dead on arrival,” Bess says, already plotting her approach to theKiller Canapés.

The midnight buffet sprawls across several stations, each one more cleverly themed than the last. The Smoking Gun Grill features perfectly seared steaks and flame-kissed seafood—both of which have already arrested my olfactory senses.

It’s the dessert display labeledThe Evidence Lockerthat stops me in my tracks. Elegant black boxes lined with gold trim showcase what might be the most criminally delicious collection of fudge I’ve ever seen.

“Would you look at that?” Bess says, pointing to it. “Each cute little fudge bite has its own clever name and look at those yummy descriptions!”

“Breaking & Entering Fudge with chunks of crushed toffee lurking in dark chocolate,” Nettie reads. “Grand Theft Chocolate with a gooey caramel center that should be illegal in at least three different states.”

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