Book One: Captain Storm
By _jacobea_
Although still unfinished (I am guessing about halfway done) i have decided, after much thought and bracing, to publish the whole of my first book (so far!) here. So far, this story has been four years, four months and six drafts in the making. It will one day, hopefully, be published as a proper book, but i doubt that will be very soon.
Thus, i present to you a mature soap opera style tale of pirates on the high sea, ambition, fatality, a girl and a fight for survival. A prologue, if you will, of the future five, and life, love, death and struggle in the eighteenth century.
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Chapter Fifteen: Treasure
She was still staring hopelessly at the door when Storm opened it, swaying slightly and looking rather pale beneath his fallow tan.
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Chapter Eight: The Cook Pot
The woman before Florencia was much more tenuous and serenely beautiful than Lucia had been.
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- 1334 reads
Chapter Eleven: Storm Brewing (EDITED)
“A girl dressed as a boy?” Luigia moved closer, curious, “That’s a bit conspiratorial, isn’t it?”
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Chapter Five: The Old Gaol
He resembled a blighted potato. His skin was jaundiced and mottled and scabby and his eyes bulged as though he had been hung at some point but without any luck.
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Chapter Four: Captain Storm (EDITED)
“With a poppet?”
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Chapter Fourteen: Attack at Noon
She blushed sullenly, and after a moment of taciturn silence, answered a little peevishly...
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Chapter Nine: The Blackest Hair
The one that was smirking was skinny with the blackest hair she had ever seen.
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Chapter One: 1722
“Seabirds don’t have black flags,” Margarita replied matter-of-factly.
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- 1097 reads
Chapter Seven: Watling Island
It always gave her a sense of malapropos vainglory to know that her family had been honoured so.
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Chapter Six: Clara Muerte
His lungs seemed to rattle...she saw the speckles of bright blood on his hand and chin.
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- 820 reads
Chapter Sixteen: Flower's Trial
“What’s the meaning of this?” He asked, calling across the stockade to Storm.
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Chapter Ten: Black Allen
“You tell yer Cap’n Storm,” he said, “that Black Allen knows ‘e’s ‘ere an’ that I’ll go ter the Governor himself if ‘e ain’t left by nightfall!”
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- 1000 reads
Chapter Thirteen: Newland Left Behind
“Then I’ll catch you,” Flower smiled, almost fatherly “now go.”
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Chapter Three: Captured (EDITED)
"Rita, run!"
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Chapter Twelve-The Dancing Whore at the Anchor Inn
The whore who had been undressing clambered up barefoot on the sturdiest table, around which many swarmed like bees around some very dusty flower.
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Chapter Two: The Dark Horse
“Maman?” Margarita called; their mother had stopped screaming. “Maman!”
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- 1469 reads
Comments
Full of typos, i know, i