.: Entry Fifty-Seven :.

My name is Elliot Parker. Except, here it’s not.

I maybe the Captain’s addiction, but he is not mine, my addiction? Staying alive.

I might have charmed the Captain to cut himself free of the dead wood men ready to mutiny. On this boat there are two types of men, those that accept that forbidden magic has kept them alive and those that are struggling with the morals. The ones who were dead set against it are now just plain dead.

The Captain accepted my set up as the stowaway girl but no regular stowaway girl would have these powers, no regular person would even have a chance of these powers. They come from specific, influential bloodlines, the stronger the magic… the Captain knows this. The crew have enough knowledge of rumours. What interests me, is that the Captain has magical control. Not just the basic charisma most Captains have that brings the men like moths to the flame ready to serve. Something more. His past is more than just the plain Captain he has lead us all to believe.

I sit on the steps to the helm watching the water around us. Nothing but sea. The Captain had kept himself locked in his cabin since the kiss after we danced on deck.

I’ve been sat here stewing over what I want to do. There has been so much that has been bothering me about all the questions floating through my head about the Captain. I finally decide to stop trying to calculate what the hell my next move is and stand up, straightening my shirt. I pull my hair into a rough bun with a tie of cloth.

I knock on his door, there is a shift and I stand out of view. I knock on the door; curiosity is what forces him to open the door, I just take advantage of his surprise and push past him and into the room. I watch the hesitation before he closes the door. No point making an unwinnable war.

“You’ve not been on deck in a few days.” I feel his eyes tracing my body.

“I’ve been working.” He refuses to meet my eye and looks away.

“Have you? What on?” I cock my head to the side and let a loose strand of hair fall down on my cheek covering my eye. He shakes his head, “nothing” I slowly wrap the loose strand around my finger and push it behind my ear. He sits on his bunk, his cabin is tidier than normal, he’s cleaned up. He must have been bored. I let him catch me looking, at the tidier cabin, I try to hide the racing thoughts. I take a deep breath and lean against the desk taking a deep breath I cross my arms. “What do you want Princess?”

“I want the truth.”

“How very vague, what about?”

“You.”

He smiled, “me?”

“Yes. Who were the blue and creams really after, you or me?” I try to get him to meet my eye but his eyes are fixed on the wall.

“Who do you think?”

“That’s what I can’t decide, I might have more than you may have expected. But I know that you are more than the man you claim to be.” I let my words linger in the air, the silence as deafening as the roar of the ocean on a stormy night.

“That’s an interesting theory.”

“Theory? Who are you really? I don’t believe you are a Captain with that much control by happenstance.”

“You want answers?”

“Would I be here if I didn’t?”

“If you want answers, you need to tell me what turned you into the runaway Princess begging for a strange Captain’s help to escape.”

“Then you will tell me?”

“If you tell me the unadulterated truth. No masks, just us here, and I’m telling no one.”

“Responsibility.”

“What responsibility?”

“I am running from an arranged marriage that I never wanted.”

“Did you meet him?”

“No. I left before he reached the palace.”

“So you are the Princess running from her palace and prince? You take a lot of risks.”

“Are risks really risks if they are calculated?”

“Yes. He could have been a good man.”

“Or a terrible one. It was an arrangement of alliance not of match made romance.”

“You could have come to love him. Instead you chose this life on the run.”

“I chose freedom.”

“Will you ever go back?”

“How can I?”

“Do you think it was an accident you chose my ship?” I felt a shift beneath my feet and it wasn’t the boat, it was me. Was this all an accident. Was this part of something else?

“Who are you really?”

“I want my question answered first.” He stood, he took two or three strides to stand in front of me, the palms of his hands bracing the desk on either side of me, no longer lazily leaning on his desk. His face is close to mine, I could feel his eyes locking onto mine, he wanted honesty, and he stripped the masks between us away completely. “Am I your addiction to?”

I felt every breath harder in my chest, I couldn’t charm my way out of this in any remote option, the best, to tell the truth and hope it’s the one that keeps me alive. I find myself unable to speak, I try but there is some strange feeling in my throat. I could swear my heart beating could be heard on deck. I can’t break free of the struggle to say the words. His face is so close to mine the warmth of his breath is intoxicating. I lean myself a little closer, this time when my lips brush his I am nervous, a different kind of nervous, a giddy heart racing nervous. Our lips touch feather light, I kiss him, so gently I am wondering if it was something of the imagination. Until I kiss him again and his lips meet mine firmly. One kiss then another falls into another, a breathless hunger of kisses fall between us, I pause for the briefest second and my voice is no more than a whisper, even though it is my own biggest betrayal, “yes”…

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 10th June!

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B06XP14ZX2

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.: Entry Fifty-Six :.

My name is Elliot Parker and that crazy day didn’t stop there obviously.

So how far did I get? Ah, the parking lot, or leaving it I should say. So we drive down the main road talking about the day so far still laughing at the audacity of the man that Clover described as a “ropey piece of…” You get the idea.

So anyway we turn off to avoid the traffic of town and turn off just past the hospital and we are driving along to the first crossroads. A man is standing to cross, well sort of standing, more zombie walking across, he had blood dripping down the side of his face and he reached the other side. Clover shouts out the car asking if he is ok, he nods, like a zombie and she points him in the direction of accident and emergency a road down and has to drive to pull up on the other side of the cross road so other cars can pass. So we call the emergency services, Clover has her eye on the man and I explain to the ambulance team about his injuries and the man runs off. Literally runs off, we turn the car and we are trying to see him, its dark outside and he has disappeared. We try to see if we can spot the man as we drive, however because we can’t find him the ambulance can’t come out. We look up and down the side roads for the next twenty to thirty minutes hoping to spot him.

We can’t find him and we try one last attempt to see if he is ok and we head to accident and emergency. A conversation we don’t quite know how to have.

“This might sound like a bit of a weird question…” Well now the receptionist is listening… “But we saw this man a few roads away and he had blood dripping down the side of his head and…”

The receptionist rolled her eyes, she knew who we were talking about “we know, he did it in here. He came in and kicked off and did that to himself and ran off before we could do anything.”

Ah so it was self-inflicted, suddenly we felt a lot less concerned and responsible. So we got back on track and had to head back to the MaccyD’s we had just been in for the play pit. The other place had closed.

Well the little one ended up having fun playing with a few other kids while we sat on the floor watching her chatting. It had been such a crazy day.

And do you know, the only thing I wanted by the end of the day was to cuddle up with Adrian with a nice hot cup of tea and something stupid on the TV. Out of all the things in the world, he is still what I wanted to comfort me.

With some of the decisions I’ve been trying to make recently, I just needed his special brand of cuddles, even if it’s one of the ones where he pokes me in the back a little. I know I find it agitating but the way we just seem to fit together, it just feels so safe and so much like home. He is my safe place, even if he doesn’t know or understand that, it’s ok. I just don’t think I can forget that day. I don’t think I can forget that he is my safe place. I don’t think I will ever forget that feeling, that after a long hard day when I am exhausted and just in need of feeling safe and comfortable he is the person I think of.

I haven’t discussed this with him, how can I? Just like I really don’t know if I want his opinion, because I think he would tell me to do it and make it all very public. It has been suggested to me that I should write a memoir, about something specific, about the relationship I have with my mother. There is a reason why I am scared to do this, actually there is many. I’ve given it so much thought. Too much thought. But it doesn’t feel right or ready yet. Not because I am protecting her or protecting myself, really protecting myself. But right now, I am still living it and I need the space from it rather than to keep thinking about the way things are. I don’t want to do it and feel worse for it. I want to do it for the right reasons. I want to be able to do it and be able to say “I accept that this made me feel (insert whatever feeling fits like scared or hurt or angry) and that’s ok. I accept that it made me feel like that and I am happy to be in a position where I no longer feel this way and I am able to begin to feel thankful for this experience because it has enabled me to become who I am today. Who I am today is awesome and full of happiness and love and the past has been released.”

That would be the position and emotional place that I want to be in if I do ever decide that I am ready to sit down and write the memoirs that people tell me I should be writing. Right now, I am living it, and just living it is hard enough as it is. I never expected to feel or live this way. But I am not willing to hurt myself more now, when there is a chance that in the future I will be able to write it in a place where it benefits me emotionally to release me from the past, and the present.

I don’t doubt that Adrian would understand if I explained it that way, I just don’t want to feel like I am running away from or avoiding writing it for the wrong reason. He wants the best I am sure but I don’t feel ready for crossing that bridge.

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 10th June!

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B06XP14ZX2

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XP14ZX2

.: Entry Fifty-Five:.

My name is Elliot Parker; I believe I had got to the part when the crazy man decided to call the police?

Ah yeah. So the guy is on the phone to the police and starts giving Clover’s car details and describes the car as yellow. Well my eyes have rolled into my head. The manager is telling her don’t give the guy your phone number. I’ve carelessly but agitated said “the car is ORANGE at least get the damn colour right” I’d had enough. So Clover is given the phone and the man is still going on and the general agitation hasn’t changed. I really can’t be dealing with this guy for much longer. So Clover gets off of the phone and the man starts going on that he needs her details. Clover asks the manager can she please see the CCTV so she goes with the manager and the man follows them, I go and sit back in the car with the little one. The man comes out and starts walking around his car and then walks around Clover’s car then talks at me through the window.

The man starts making a demand at me through the window to call Clover and get her back out. I said, very firmly, “no you can wait, she is with the manager.” He hasn’t listened to me and demands again that I call her, my response? “No I said you can wait.” I swear some people just want to get on my bad side to see if I will end up losing my temper at them. So Clover comes back out with the manager. The man starts going on about the details. He tells her he wants her number. She says no, he says it again. I snap back. Something snapped in me to make me take control again, “You are not having her number.”

“Yes I am I am having her number”

“I SAID you are not having her number.”

Apparently the manager must have been surprised according to Clover (in the post incident chat in the car) but anyway, yeah I talked to the man like he was a five-year-old. He was acting like it. So why not? The man carries on saying “the police said…” I interrupted “I don’t care what the police said.” The manager stepped in and asked what the police said, the man didn’t like the manager stepping in.

“The police said… the police said… and I am doing what the police said.” Couldn’t actually tell us could you mate? Dickhead.

So anyway this bloke is still going on and we eventually pull the information we need out of him like his name and insurance like pulling teeth. So the man drives off without paying for his fuel which makes us laugh a little and the manager walks off pleased the man hasn’t paid for his fuel. So finally Clover and I are sat in the car, with the details of the manager in case the man puts in an insurance claim. So turns out the manager’s name is Richard. We are about to leave when the man swings his car back into the forecourt and stops outside the shop and starts waving at us. Clover asked if he was trying to flag us down again. I told her no, and we are not stopping let’s go.

So we get a short way down the road where there is a split and roundabout. The man speeds to just ahead but beside us and looks right into the car. I stare at him and tell her to wait till he drives off so he can’t follow us. He drives off not in the direction we are headed in and we head to Clover’s.

So of course I started writing the written statement while the phone call to her insurance was taking place to give them a warning that the man is likely to put in a fraudulent claim. So it took about three or so pages to write it out all done and dusted.

A quick trip back to the petrol station to ask the manager if it was possible for a copy of the CCTV. But sadly, the manager, Richard had just left by the time we got there, so a note was left and we could finally get on with the rest of our day…

We drove over to the MaccyD’s with the play pit and little one had fallen asleep in the back of the car. So we got a nice hot drink and I swear we were still laughing about the ridiculousness of the man who had clearly picked her as a target. Let’s face it, a young mum with a kid in the car to him looked like an easy target. The bizarre part was that he had told Clover he would have just let her go if she had said sorry and not lied. Like what the hell is wrong with you to act like such an idiot. I mean causing a huge scene when you are making stuff up isn’t a good look. He thought he had an easy target. But his body language didn’t work in his favour, neither did his manners. The way he spoke so loudly and the big attention seeking body language was designed to embarrass her and threaten her to push her into paying him to shut up and leave her alone.

I have no idea how or why, but that manifestation was incredibly stressful but also it has made me laugh. A LOT!

How could it not make you laugh? It just seemed like the most incredibly ridiculous stupid behaviour I have seen in a very long time. It takes a lot for me to snap, but he got a short blast of me taking control. Something I don’t often do but when I do, it’s hard to cross me. Even if I do shake like a Chihuahua on adrenalin…

But here’s the thing it wasn’t the only crazy thing to happen in one day and leavin*g the parking lot of the MaccyD’s to find another play pit while little one was sleeping was the start of another adventure.

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 10th June!

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B06XP14ZX2

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XP14ZX2

.: Entry Fifty-Four :.

My name is Elliot Parker and today has been madness. Honestly, how on earth did I manifest this?

So Clover and I decided to go to lunch with the little one.

Of course somehow I ended up running behind and was in a rush out the door. So Clover and I had a little chat in the car about the boys in her life.

It was a restaurant that we don’t usually go to, as we were eating we had an idea to go to somewhere with a play park for the little one to play after dinner. The lunch was a lovely treat, Clover made a joke that I couldn’t help but laugh at suggesting I work in a nursery. It’s taken a long time until I have felt sort of comfortable around children. Honestly, I don’t have much experience with them, I am always scared I will squish them, there’s no babies in my family and haven’t been for years so it’s one of those weird things.

I guess, even though I do eventually want kids one day, I really am in no rush.

So after lunch we get in the car again and we stop off at Clover’s regular petrol station. Well, little did we know as we parked at the pump we would be there longer than we had ever intended. A quick stop, that was the plan. And the best laid plans go awry.

While Clover is inside, I am sat with the little one when a guy swerves in to park in the pump in front. Clover came back out and he looked her over. So she gets in the car and we start talking about the bloke who had looked her over. She drove around his bad parking job. Like clear around. Minutes later we hear banging on the back of the car and he’s yelling at her that she hit his car. So she stopped got out looked at her car and walked over to his. He’s still being very loud causing a scene shouting that she hit his car and she’s not entering on his level. She hasn’t hit his car and she states that he starts yelling louder calling her a liar. She has to move the car so someone else can get past so as she is going to park he’s following and pushing her almost getting into the parking spot. I tell her to stay with little one and the car I am going to get security involved. I get out the car take a photo of his license plate, the side of Clover’s car where there are distinctly old scratches he is insisting are from her car. Then I walk over to his car take a photo of the dent, which is huge, not a scuff but a dent. Here is the big issue, if she had dented his car she would have had a real mark on her car. So I walk into the shop part and start looking for a member of staff, I check the shop floor and find the man has followed me inside, and goes to me “what are you doing?”

Like seriously? What a prick. So I respond saying looking for a member of staff. I catch sight of a man in a suit coming out from behind the cash tills, I catch him on his way back into the office. I ask him if there “is any security available? There is a man saying my friend dented his car but she hasn’t and he’s being quite aggressive” There’s no security but he is the manager, and he came out to help us.

So we head back out to the forecourt and the man is still ranting like an idiot, just at the manager who looks at Clover’s car and agrees that the scratches are definitely old. We knew that. And the dent on his car has paint transfer, like the man is yelling, but the difference is the transfer on his car is red. Clover’s car is orange.

The manager tells Clover she is within her rights to leave and drive off with his license details, she didn’t his car.

The man starts getting louder and more erratic telling us that we can’t leave, and so on. I ask the manager if he could check the CCTV for us. He disappears to the office to check and another member of staff comes over to stand with us.

The man is still being very irritating. So the manager comes out and tells Clover it looks like she has gone right around him. The man is still being, loud. The manager tells the man to calm down or leave. Well, that doesn’t go down well the man starts arguing that the manager can’t tell him to leave he has no right. The manager looks annoyed at this point and firmly tells him he can tell him to leave, he is the manager and this is his forecourt. The man carries on being rude saying why is he here why is he getting involved, he works in the pizza place nearby and then he throws a random word out, “immigration” and the three of us are like “what the hell has immigration got to do with this?” the man doesn’t answer and carries on ranting this time saying something about “over three years ago” and pointing at the car. And the rest of the dents in the car are none of our business (and trust me his car had more dents in it then a derby car).  Like seriously?!

So, anyway, this is getting ridiculous now. So did you know I get the shakes with an adrenalin rush? That really doesn’t help my temper in the long term because of the agitation and pain the shakes causes. The manager has had enough of this guy and can tell we have to. The manager advises us that we can get in the car and drive he can’t do anything. That is when the man decides to call the police even after being told that this is not a police matter and the emergency number is not his personal hotline…

The pre-order link is available now… Due to release 10th June!

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B06XP14ZX2

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XP14ZX2