Discoveries And New Adventures

Hello my lovelies!!! I’ve missed you all like crazy, I just haven’t been in a blogging mindset of late, but hopefully as fellow writers, you all understand and forgive lol 😀 I’ve been keeping busy writing my novel, revisiting some of my favorite books (The Tortall Universe by Tamora Pierce and The Lost Continent series by Catherine Asaro!), and discovering new T.V. shows to LOVE and slightly obsess over (Once Upon a Time and Reign!)  Please no spoilers for season four and season two thanks! I’m totally loving Rumbelle and the epic-ness of pretty much everything in OUAT and looking forward to more awesome historical escapades on Reign but more on those two in an upcoming blog.

Image From Google. All Rights Belong To The Artist.

Image From Google. All Rights Belong To The Artist.

Basically, I just wanted to let you guys know that I haven’t forgotten you all and I will be posting more in the coming month, so look for new Adventures of Ratha James installments as well and Photo Challenges, new poetry, and more! Until next time my lovelies, I hope you’re all having a great 2015 so far and oh by the way before I forget…my bestie’s getting married and I’m gonna be a Maid of Honor in a few weeks!!! So yeah, there’s all that I’m doing as well… 😀

This one reminds me of Ratha! Image From Google. All rights Belong To Artist.

This one reminds me of Ratha! Image From Google. All rights Belong To Artist.

The Adventures of Ratha James Part Six

*Warning* As I said before, this segment and the previous one are very dark. The imagery is violent and disturbing but I think it is vital to understand how dark and terrifying Ratha and Maddie’s lives were before they became the women they are the for remainder of the story. This darkness shapes them, strengthens them, and ultimately pursues them, so I don’t want to water it down, although I admit, it is pretty much the darkest thing I’ve ever written.

Image From Google. All Rights Belong To Artist.

Image From Google. All Rights Belong To Artist.

The Adventures of Ratha James Part Six

Amalee was kept from Madeline during those last horrible months, though in truth she had rarely been allowed to call upon her friend since their arrival in London. While Maddie drifted further inside herself, desperate for relief, she never thought that her dearest Amalee was doing the same. And indeed Ratha was. From the first moment Derek Richard’s entered her life he seemed hell bent on controlling it. He had not smiled at her when she approached on the dock, nor did he promise her a life of comfort and joy, but ordered her into the grand carriage he had waiting with an air of haughty dissatisfaction and impatience. When she was not fast enough in arranging her voluminous skirts inside the coach, Derek climbed in, purposefully treading on her gown hard enough to rend the material. Amalee had gulped, frightened of being alone with this arrogant man who so easy and callously destroyed something that undoubtedly cost him a fortune. Tiny diamonds that had been painfully hand-sewn into the gilded skirt skittered around the floor beneath his feet. When asked if she was as incompetent as she seemed Amalee tried to reply that her nerves caused her hands to slow, she apologized about the dress and reached downward to gather the torn material, suggesting that she could sew it fine enough that no one would ever see the tear.

With her face downward she did not see the blow until it sent her reeling. Her neck snapped back painfully as her head struck the carriage wall; with an insuppressible whimper, she clutched the side of her face where his hand had marred her beautiful skin. “I did not pay for an Irish seamstress,” he sneered without so much as a care for his intended bride’s pain. And bought her he had, in every way she belonged to him. Amalee knew that her father’s wealth had been greatly depleted over his lifetime and that it was her beauty, not her heritage that had secured this marriage to such a wealthy English gentleman. He had bought and paid for her months before she arrived, even commissioning her wedding trousseau without so much as asking her opinion of color, cut or fabric. Since she had no other choice but to accept his “gifts”, Amalee had told herself that what Lord Richard’s did was only for her betterment, that perhaps he was not much in the company of women and did not know that certain things were usually handled by females. She had not known then that she lied to herself, but within moments of entering the massive black and grey coach, Ratha knew that whatever Lord Richard’s did, he did for his own enjoyment and pleasure, not out of any misguided kindness to her.

Secluded in a house filled with servants too afraid of their master to even think of helping their new mistress, Amalee prepared herself for her wedding day, taking great care to artfully conceal the black welt that covered her cheek. It was a skill she soon mastered. It seemed nothing she did was right nor could ever be good enough to deem some sort of mercy from her new husband; Derek was a demanding man, he expected perfection but changed his definition of it on a whim. To punish her for being the embarrassment of the Richard’s house, Derek took away her friends, took away any and all people who lived outside the great house. He confined her to certain rooms which he visited often to abuse her with his fists, his voice and his lusts; disgracing her by taking her violently outside the marriage bed. When his desire rose, which it did often, Derek did not care where he found Amalee; he forced himself inside her, beating her until his pleasure was spent. Her life reduced itself until she was nothing more than an ever fearful ball of shaking nerves, waiting for the next time to come and for her life to fade with it.

She miscarried twice within seven months, earning her the worst beating she had ever had in her life. A doctor was summoned to inspect her since Derek had heard that one of the other Irish sluts had been found to be unfertile. The physician poked and prodded her in places that made her blush beneath her bruises; she hated him as much as she hated Derek in that moment but yet hoped that he would take pity on her and tell someone of her abuse that they might intervene. Derek watched impatiently as the man worked over his naked wife, Amalee knew what would happen when the doctor took his leave, she could see Derek’s stirring from where she lay. When finally the man proclaimed the examination over, she held her breath, would he help her?

“She’ll never carry a child full term if you don’t ease your fists upon her,” the graying physician muttered unsympathetically. Amalee’s heart rose but fell, shattering and breaking before she could even feel a tinge of relief. “Bed her often, spent yourself that way but you must ease your punishments if you wish an heir. If she is obstinate, dose her with the opiate I have here and she will loosen up quickly enough. Women of her particular beauty inspire men’s darker, more primal urges, it’s understandable but a good long ride every few hours should help you both.”

And so Amalee Ratha Richard’s knew nothing outside the bitter taste of the opiate as it was poured down her throat at regular intervals though she had long ago given up struggling, and the feel of her insatiable husband spearing inside her with an urgency that was never absent for long. She drifted helpless and lost inside a black cloud of pain and sex and poison, too spent to even rise from her bed during the brief intervals that her husband left her alone. Once, after he was finished, Derek left the bottle containing the opium sitting atop the table beside her, it took her nearly half an hour to summon the strength to reach for it, uncork it and down the remainder of the entire glass cylinder. She hoped it would be enough to dispatch her to the land after this but when she awoke, it was not in heaven she found herself but beneath her husband’s bucking form.

There came a day when Derek was summoned to handle some business in the north that could not be put off; he would be gone for a week he told her. One week and he would leave in the morning, so tonight he would use her enough to ensure that this week did not disrupt his effort to forge an heir. She was bloody, bruised and well past screaming when Derek’s carriage pulled out of the gatehouse. She lay, unable to move for hours until she realized that perhaps this was her opportunity to escape the hell she’d been sold into. Scrubbing at her broken body with a scrape of a torn dress and some water she found still clinging to the inside of an overturned pitcher, she scrapped as much blood, sex and Derek off of her as she could before looking for something to cover herself with. Luckily the floor was littered with discarded clothing. Amalee hide her bruises under a tunic, long pants that she had to belt with a stripe of cloth torn from another tunic and boots that were far too big. She hid her hair beneath a soft cap of black velvet, and glanced around the room.

There was nothing of value here that she could take; Derek had never given her any trinkets or coin beyond the blood-ruby wedding band that she now slipped from her thin finger. Without a glance she threw it atop the bed and made for the window. It would be locked but the servants would be expecting her to try the door she was sure. Her room was on the second floor, a long drop but even death would be better than Derek’s return.

Wrapping the heavy pitcher inside one of the bed sheets, Amalee swung at the glass panes and was rewarded with the sound of shattering glass and thick porcelain. She didn’t wait to hear if an alert had been given at her attempted escape but all but threw herself out of the opening. She landed on her back with a sharp painful hiss, writhed upwards but forced herself to get to her feet, which she did. Blind of her destination other that out, Amalee ran, not bothering to wonder why she heard no footsteps behind her. It wasn’t until years later that she wondered if the servants had let her go, had given her a chance at life. When finally she slowed long enough to gather from her meager memory where she was and to think of where she thought Maddie’s house was again, she resolved to find her friend and beg for help.


The Adventures of Ratha James Part Five

*Warning* As I said earlier this week, the next few segments of this story get very dark but after that the fun of the story will pick back up and the adventure will really begin.

This one reminds me of Maddie! Image From Google. All Rights Belong To Artist.

This one reminds me of Maddie! Image From Google. All Rights Belong To Artist.

The Adventures of Ratha James Part Five

And so they were three Irish brides for three English lords. Each prayed for the joy that only a good marriage could bring: love, respectability, family, and children. But sadly, for two of them it was not to be.

For Maddie the illusion lasted mere months. She was happy enough, though somewhat anxious with her new husband who seemed to speak over her head at every turn, spinning conversations into things she did not intend them to be. Robert was a hard-worker and the Gamsley’s were known to never need fear a shortage of money for the tea industry was booming and it seemed things could only go up. As lady of the house, Maddie threw elegant dinners that people spoke of for weeks after, entertaining his business partners and friends with her natural grace and happy nature. It was said the young Lady Gamsley did her husband a great service and it was obvious that the two were deeply in love, why the Lady was always in new gowns and bearing some of the finest crafted, exquisite jewelry that London had ever seen. Surely such a fine man visited his blushing bride’s bedchamber every night; it would not be long until there was a little Gamsley heir to fawn over. Lady Gamsley was young, in good health and Robert seemed such a vigorous, thorough man; it was only a matter of time before Madeline would do her duty and fulfill her part of the marriage contact.

But no child came.

They had long feared that the illness Madeline had contracted as a child would prevent her from bearing children. The wasting sickness had nearly claimed her life but not unkind, fate let her live, though in place of her life it claimed those of her future children that could have been born. Madeline was distraught to discover that her body would never quicken with the life of a child, she so wanted a baby to hold to her breast, to love and protect. Maddie was beside herself, but her husband too felt the loss of something he was promised and Robert did not like to be duped or played a fool. The wife he had bought and provided for but it was the children he wanted, a son to create in the image of himself.

Cheated of an heir to strengthen his family, Lord Robert quickly found other ways to recoup his losses on a barren wife. More dinners were demanded, but instead of the new friends that Maddie had grown accustomed to, a new crowd – all unfamiliar men – descended upon the Gamsley house. A depressed Maddie soon found her presence required whenever her husband met with these new potential business associates, and instead of her beautiful wardrobe, she was restricted to only two or three dresses that left her scandalously indecent. It was not long before Robert began trading his wife for business favors. Maddie found that she had no defense against her husband when he came for her with gentlemen in the dark of night. Though she fought, she was helpless as they ravished her, sometimes brutally, while Robert slept peacefully in another room or sometimes stayed to help hold her. Since there was no threat of a false child taking his name, Robert took his money’s worth from his wife in the only logical way he could think of: by selling his wife’s body.

The Adventures of Ratha James Part Four

Image From Google.

Image From Google.

The Adventures of Ratha James Part Four

The crew of the Raven’s Wing was completely comprised of women; no man was allowed to set foot aboard her, not even to keep her from sinking. Most of the women were runaways, orphans, poor, but some were ladies of English society who had given up their fine titles and jewels because of abuse or mistreatment at the hands of their fathers, husbands, brothers or others. All those who boarded the Raven’s Wing, boarded as equals; there was no discrimination of rank allowed other than that of Ratha’s officers. Traveling home was a cause of joy but it was also dangerous, should the women fall foul of their old tormentors or the crown. “Be safe, all of you. Should you need me or become separated and cannot return, give the signal and I will come.” The women nodded solemnly at her, they knew she would find them, return any one of them that was stolen from her. It had happened before, they all prayed it never happened again. “The rest of you, let’s move. St. Clare, if you would be so kind to lead the way.”


Amalee had only been in this chamber once but still, everything was as she remembered it: the massive, white bed, the cream colored desk and chair, the scarlet drapes, framing the view of the sea, of the ship that was now hers. It had not been hers the last time she was in this chamber, not yet anyway. It had been night then, pitch black outside, with no moon to shine down on the two runaways as they raced to their friend to beg her to join them, to leave this awful place. They had run to her for help, they had run for their lives and now six years later Ratha was back inside the chamber that St. Clare had led her to that night. She wondered if Maddie was feeling the same in her chambers next door, did she feel this confliction of joy and sadness, of hope and hopelessness, of love and fear.

They were eighteen when their fathers sent them to England to be wed. It was a heady journey across the channel, filled with anxious joy and nervous excitement. When finally, they arrived the three dressed in their finest and fixed one another’s hair as best as they could before stepping onto the dock where their future husbands waited. They had known Eric St. Clare their whole lives and had known since early childhood that he was intended for Joona. In their youth they had had even nick-named her St. Clare, a name Eric found amusing and when he met them on the dock, he embraced all three of them like sisters. But though he loved them, he had eyes only for Joona, who sparkled in a fine, pale lavender that accented her fiery red hair and softened her watchful green eyes.

Madeline’s intended was a southern gentleman who made his fortune in tea leaves, which he imported from India and China. Lord Robert Gamsley was a fair-haired grey-eyed man with an unsettling smile and a slick countenance. Maddie had dressed in her nicest blue silk and a halo had shown around her golden head as she stepped forward to greet the man who would give her his name but would take much more from her. He kissed her hand and drew her away with sweet promises of the years to come.

But it was Amalee’s husband who drew every female eye; he was breath-taking in a way that left women shaking. With his dark chestnut hair slicked back framing his strong, marble chiseled face, dark arrogant eyes and a cruel, perfect lip, Lord Derek Richards was a lion amid lambs. And what’s more, he knew it. Derek had shown like a godling in his austere blacks when Amalee approached, a hesitant smile twitching on her nervous lips. Instantly she knew he approved of her golden dress that highlighted the gold flecks in her eyes and hair and curved dangerously low over her high, full breasts. The cut of the dress had not been to Amalee’s taste but her new husband had commissioned the gown and so she tried to wear it proudly.


Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Day Number…

Hello my lovelies! Sorry I’ve been away for so long, things have been a bit up in the air this past week or so and I just haven’t had the will to sit down and make myself post anything (although really it’s all I’ve thought about doing, lol).  I’m moving at the end of February and there’s just a lot going on, but I won’t bore you with the details, I just didn’t want y’all to think I had abandoned you! My posts should be normalizing time-wise in the next week but if it takes me a while to get anything new out please just stick with me, I’m doing my best 😀

But all that aside, let’s get into today’s topic shall we…

Image From Facebook

Image From Facebook

LOVE…sigh. I for one have always believed that true love is out there just waiting to be found — or you know, waiting to find me because let’s be honest here, my tracking and locating skills are like nil. I have problems following Mapquest instructions… yes really. And forget giving me directions involving street names (just tell me what it’s by for crying out loud) because all you’re going to do is confuse and annoy me. So in all actuality unless I just stumble across my True Love haphazardly (I am a kluz so it could happen I guess) I imagine it’s up to him to find me. Sorry Future-Man-Of-My-Dreams, I know it’s a lot of pressure but I have faith in you. And really, one of us needs to have these skills or heaven help us when the Robot apocalypse occurs and we can’t find our way out of a major city…but that’s neither here nor there.

Now I’m not one to sit and bemoan not having found my True Love yet (outside of my head at least, I can whine all I want too in my thoughts and you’ll never know…muwahahaha) but I rediscovered a song the other day that I hadn’t heard in years and not only did it make me literally laugh out loud, but it also made me think about my perspective on love (the song mentions prenups)… And over the course of this pondering, I realized that while I’m still a nutter about love and romance and all that good stuff, I have become a bit more cynical when it comes to the idea of love and/or True Love over the years. But that’s a product of life and growing up I think. It’s hard to keep a completely rosy outlook on love and marriage (which I equate with love — you know, you fall in love and get married) when you’ve watched your parents get divorced after years of unhappiness and you see the bitterness and the anger and all the things that could go wrong when you tie yourself to somebody.

I have always been the girl waiting for love, so full of faith that love was out there, and I still am. I just see things a bit differently now. I surprised the heck out of my mom and my best friend a few weeks ago when we were discussing women’s rights in Ireland and I mentioned that they have only recently within the last twenty or thirty years legalized divorce and how I could not imagine living in a place (in this day and age) where I could not get a divorce if I needed one. And that I would never live somewhere where I could not divorce someone, no matter how badly I wanted to live there. And since I am seriously one of the biggest romantics ever, this kind of threw them. For a moment they just stared at me with their mouths agape before finally my mom said (with a look of crestfallen, heartbroken-ness that I knew meant she blamed herself for my apparent loss of faith in love, which has been a major portion of my personality since I can remember) that she didn’t know divorce was so important to me.

(And I know what y’all are thinking, if she’s so romantically minded and believes in True Love, what the heck is she doing blogging about the importance of being able to undo a marriage?! But just stay with me, I have a point, I promise!)

It’s not divorce itself that’s so important to me, it’s the right to have one that I couldn’t do without. We’re human and sometimes we make mistakes, marriages are formed for all the wrong reasons, some people are not always who they appear to be, yadayadayada and so there must be an out. Imagine being trapped with someone, who for whatever reason, wasn’t right for you and who made your life miserable. *Shudder* I’ve always had a fear of being trapped, of being unable to escape something, but when I was younger I never thought of that fear applying to love. Now that I’m older I understand that love is a tricky B*tch and we all have to keep on our toes…that’s all I’m saying.

And having grown up completely enthralled by Disney Princess movies (I still adore them), I thought finding my True Love would be easy enough. I figured I’d fall madly in love when I was sixteen (you know…like the Princesses), get married, and Disney would eventually make a beautifully animated movie out of my epic romance. Yet sadly, it’s not so simple. I’ve passed my sixteenth year and still haven’t met my Prince Charming and honestly sometimes that just irks the bejesus out of me. Twenty-three isn’t old, and I’m far from being considered a spinster or anything, but when you’ve had a schedule in mind since you were five and you’re 6-7 years off that schedule it feels like a freaking eternity! There’s a line in the song I mentioned, where Fiona (yes, this is from Shrek the Musical…don’t judge) sings: “Ever after better get here, I want love in seconds flat,” and boy do I understand what she means. Sometimes it feels as if I’ve been waiting forever (The WAITING!!!!! …you’ll get it when you listen to the song) lol.

But divorce and the unscheduled waiting aside, in many ways, I’m still a fool about love. I can’t wait to experience it for myself and part of me still imagines it will be all Disney-like and coated in glitter or something. And maybe it will be, if I want it and dream about it and ask for it long enough (it’s called manifestation people!). But whether or not it’s dripping in glitter, I still know Love is out there. I’ve gotten older and hopefully wiser over the years but really, I’m still just a big kid reading my fairy tales and dreaming about my Knight in Shining Armor.

And yes… I know it’s today.