"I feel as if I never properly thanked you for your help on the dock that day," he said quietly, and it was a moment of sincerity I had not expected to find within his playful manner. I looked away, wringing my hands.
"As I said before, captain, I w...
Thank you for joining me! I'm excited for your feedback, your comments, and hopefully, your enjoyment. This is the first draft of this story, and I know each chapter will need a lot of help. My writing can become dialogue-heavy. I'm working to include more details as I continue to work on my drafts; right now, my biggest concern is to write as much as I can, as quickly as I can!
On a side note, as much as I love to write, I'm actually more of an editor. If you would like me to read and briefly edit your work, please, please message me! I would love to look at your writing!
Thanks,
Marley
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The maps of the real world insisted the little island was called Clairentine Isle, but we all knew it was a made up name from the founder, Captain Ramon de Jacques. I supposed he had the right to make up a word for his island, because legend said that he searched the globe for a full year, battling hurricanes, sea monsters, and pirates to find the patch of land between oceans I called home. Some say he wanted the land for it's volcanic-fertile earth, while others claimed he was simply eager to greedily grab at whatever plot of land hadn't already been snatched up. Most, however, and myself included, preferred the story of the sunflowers.
Our tale began with Jacques when he was a young merchant sailor, and it ended for him with devastation beyond the reach of words. In the simplest of terms, he docked one day on the main land, stepped off his ship, and fell in love with a beautiful woman. I supposed the evening sun made her glow in a heavenly sort of way, and I like to image that he took off his hat, swept into a breathless bow, and looked up into her eyes. It had to have been textbook love at first sight. They were destined for one another.
Fate, however, had a strange role to play, for the lovers were star-crossed. She was the heir to her grandmother's fortune, something her uncle resented and coveted. He intended to marry her off to some well to-do or other and take the fortune for himself. On the night of her engagement, Jacques managed to sweep her away for a moment; it was only long enough to pledge his love for her. He begged her to run away with him, but she swore she would never hurt him, and that if she ran away with him, they would be caught, and he would be hanged. She insisted there wasn't a place known to man that her uncle and grandmother couldn't find her.
Jacques, of course, the sea-faring debonair that I imagine he was, kissed her hand, and promised that if she gave him a year of hope, he would sail the seas until he found an island they could escape to. He'd come rescue from whatever horrible marriage they would try to tie her in, and they would live happily ever after. She agreed, and as he left her in the gardens, her hand over her chest, her pretty moonlight eyes welling with tears, he told her to watch the horizon for sails of taupe, that no matter where they took her, he would find her, and he would love her all the more.
