Something about my books.
Pirate's Wife is coming on nicely. Have received it back from my proofreader and is busy changing the few suggestions she had. Hope fully I can publish it soon.
I want to thank Mary for all her patience and help so far. You are a blessing.
Here is a tit bit to read since I know you are all very busy with your own thing. LOL
I will soon require a reviewer or two. Let me know if you are interested.
It was the Christmas of 1623, when six people stepped onto the dock at the harbour of Lisbon, Portugal. It was a cloudless, sunny day with a definite bite of cold in the air. People scattered around the harbour, pulling jackets tight to keep body heat in, each busy with luggage, hauling crates off various colossal wooden hull ships. Each had three masts rigged with sail and heavy tackle and supplies ready for trade to new destinations. Sailors shouted to each other, in anger or in banter, in their usual sailor dialect, accompanied by loud and heavy thuds as the gigantic ships were either unloaded or reloaded, depending if they had arrived or were departing on a new course.
In between the shouting of the sailors, animals bellowed, clucked or whinneyed, waiting for attention. Everyone raced to finish so that they could go to the already awaiting soiled doves waving seductively to the tired but aroused sailors. Their half-clad bodies teased men hungry for female companionship after six months or more at sea.
No one gave the group of six passing by much thought, because they looked like ordinary citizens. Led by a tall blond man, the two women of the group were attracting a few lustful looks of unwanted characters. The men protected them though, guiding them through the throng to a waiting carriage ready to take them to their destination.
They had lost everything of earthly value but discovered who they were as people, as human beings. Survivors of the vast untamed land of Africa, overcoming the greatest odds against them, gaining new friends and unlikely love. The giant blond sailor and his old sailor friend, the Contessa who held a little girl by the hand, the sea captain, and a slave girl. Bone weary, they entered the carriage. The blond giant closed the door behind them, tapping on the roof to signal the coach driver to move.
He wrapped the frail body of the beautiful black-haired Contessa Qonchita in his steely arms. Rosa-Lee, the little girl, slept in her mother's arms. The gentle giant gazed at her with so much love and adoration. One thick finger caressed the soft pink cheek of the little girl he had accepted as his own. Cisco thought back to where their journey had begun.
Two years ago they had embarked on a voyage from India to Portugal, a supposedly easy and hassle-free voyage. But it had tested their endurance and their faith in the Hand of Providence and in each other.
September 12, 1621
We have finally arrived on the ship Armando on our long awaited journey. Five years I stayed in this hell hole. Finally I am leaving, a disillusioned wife and mother. Rosa-Lee is the only highlight of it all, born out of abuse, but a shining beacon in my life.
The sea seemed to be calm enough and Captain Laurenco Breno assured us that our voyage would be without problems. How he could make this statement was beyond me, since the ocean could change instantly.
I didn’t like the man’s beady eyes, his expression cold and stormy, with a glimmer of evil in the black depths. His lustful eyes raked over me and I felt violated by this act. I had to stop myself from shivering in front of this obnoxious man, and will keep my distance the entire trip.
Rosa-Lee made a friend today. It was the first time I saw her openly speaking to an older man as she did to the giant sailor, with such familiarity. I hope we don’t bring him any trouble. The look of disdain from the captain towards the blond sailor was undeniably menacing.
I never saw such a big man. His tanned, hard body stretched his white cotton shirt, his height towering over all on the boat including Faro, who was not short at all. But yet he was kind to Rosa-Lee, humble in his approach. Careful, maybe, with only a slight smile on the handsome face caused by her continuous chatter. There is something different in him. I find myself standing close to observe him better, something I have never done with any man, not even my own husband. Faro calls me "ice princess" and I like to I keep it that way.
I hope I can see the sailor again.
Qonchita shut the old leather-bound dairy, set the pen down, and crept under the soft blankets of the bed in the cabin appointed to her and Rosa-Lee, already in a deep sleep. She brushed the dark locks of her daughter and kissed the rosy cheeks.
"I love you," she whispered to the small child, and lay back she prayed softly for a safe voyage.
Master of her heart is still in its first draft. The original story has changed exstremely and I am quite existed about that.
Life Changes is still waiting for proof reading and so far no one offered to help so it has to wait in line. Something I am not very happy about but may be in the wait I will learn more.
A Source of Joy is next in line for proof reading