Category — 3. Howel Davis

Thankfully, it was not difficult, getting signed to work aboard the Mumvil Trader as a cabin boy. I happened to know quite a bit about seafaring at this point, and showed off my knowledge with a flourish. Either because the first mate was impressed, or maybe because he wanted to shut me up, he gave me the job.

As I walked through Nassau, I felt a thrill surge through me. I would not be on the same ship as Howel, but I would be with him. He didn’t want me, but I had a mission, and that mission was nothing less than preventing the man I loved from dying. Before I left New Providence, however, there was one more thing I had to do.  Read more...

I leaned out into the wind, watching as we approached New Providence. I longed to pull off my brimmed hat, set my hair free in the gusts of salty air. I couldn’t do it, for I would look far too much like a woman. Too bad — I would have liked to remind Howel of what I was.

As we entered Nassau Harbor, I saw the changes Woodes Rogers had made on the pirate haven: Much of the foliage had been cleared from the town, and the beaches had been rid of the pirate camps; the fort was being repaired, the Union Jack flying overhead; and four Royal Navy vessels, their guns clearly visible, guarded the emerald waters of New Providence.  Read more...

*Happy Holidays, friends and readers! This will be my final post for an entire week (I know, a whole WEEK). But it is a necessary evil, as I have a lot of writing and editing to do before I can post again. I would absolutely love to hear your comments on the story thus far — as I said, it keeps me writing furiously, and therefore posting frequently. For those of you enjoying the chemistry between Howel and Sabrina, this is a good one. Enjoy!*  Read more...

Bath. Oh, glorious bath. How I have missed you.

I didn’t want to get out of the tub, it was so wonderful. As promised, Meg had provided us with tubs, clean water, and soap. I sank into the hot water with a sigh of delight. I scrubbed my skin raw and lathered up my hair no fewer than three times. I considered using a straight razor to shave my legs and armpits — which, I am unhappy to report, resembled those of a sixteen-year-old boy — but decided against it, since I still planned to masquerade as a boy.  Read more...

I looked at Davis to find he was still watching me, something beyond simple mischief dancing in his eyes. He was challenging me. Was that how I would prove myself to him? By bedding a prostitute? I gazed back at him pleadingly, when suddenly a young woman, no older than seventeen, was practically sitting in my lap, pulling the hat from my head.  Read more...

*Ok, guys. Because, to your good fortune, I happen to be an “instant gratification” type of chick, I give you Howel Davis (Post 11), and it’s nice and long. However, I absolutely cannot post for at least another week. Unless, of course, you can convince me otherwise… Go ahead, sweet talk me… *  Read more...

We were almost there. It was my one consolation.

The blasted “Middle Passage” had taken forever, every hour dragging by as I consciously avoided Jack Blaine, surrounding myself with the crew at every opportunity to ensure that I was rarely alone.

Every time Sam was brought on deck to “exercise,” I would ask him about Davis, nearly frantic with worry. Sam would look at me, his scarred face fierce, his expression impenetrable.  At first, he would simply answer, “He is alive.”

As this was not enough to satisfy me as the days passed, Sam finally looked me in the eyes and said softly, “He has much ike, strength. He will not die. Not yet.”  Read more...

As soon as Blaine left me, I rushed to the forecastle. Since Taylor became captain, I’d had to stash my knapsack elsewhere. It was no longer safe for me to keep my 2009 souvenirs, I realized. If Taylor or Blaine got their hands on my stuff… The Charmed Woman. Those words sounded far too much like witch to me.  Read more...

They would not let me into the hold of the ship. Taylor was fairly clear on the matter, saying, “If you go into the hold, it’ll be as a prisoner, not a sailor, you worthless little shit. I have half a mind to lock you up too, pirate buggerer that you are.”

I was sick of being afraid. I was angry – no, furious – and wanted nothing more than to punch Taylor’s sallow face myself. I retorted, “At least I’m not a sniveling coward.” That earned me a vicious smack to the side of the face, which sent the sailors into uproarious laughter and left me with a bruised cheek.  Read more...

What an idiot I was.

I moved about the ship, doing the tasks I was assigned and treating the sick, unscathed by the harsh, vulgar comments made to me or about me by the crew, dusting myself off and going about my business when a surly seaman would trip me purposefully. My eyes followed Davis, watching him as he commanded the Cadogan with complete confidence. I would not be brought down from my high. An entire miserable day was made good when Davis would smile at me, commend my hard work, or simply tease me.  Read more...