MamanBrigitte_CvrPDFMy story Maman Brigitte has just been published by Forbidden Fiction. It is a dark story with a seam of menace running through it. The central character of the story is Maman Brigitte, a mythical figure from Haiti who was a Guede, an intermediary between this world and the spirit world. So, if you like your erotica with a ‘Happy Ever After’ ending it’s probably not for you! But it you like something that’s dark and challenging it should appeal.

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Story blurb

Piloting the slave ship Le Saphir, captained by the cruel Captain Dugarry, is to be Gerard’s final job before retirement. He does not realize his journey will draw him him into the world of Maman Brigitte, a spirit worshiped by the Hatian slaves, who controls the way to the spirit world. There, Gerard is forced to choose between his life among the living and eternal submission to a cruel goddess.

Story extract

I cursed the day I met Captain Bernard Dugarry. What a fateful decision, made over too many cognacs in a tavern in La Rochelle, though it seemed the right one at the time. I had been discharged from the French Navy for long service after the American War of Independence, and my life was going nowhere. I thought I’d had enough; that I wanted to turn my back on the sea, but it was in my blood. In my depressed and drunken state I could see no reason to turn down Captain Dugarry’s offer. He was persuasive and charismatic. He was young for a captain of a vessel, yet supremely confident and ambitious. The money was good, very good, better than anything offered by the French Navy, and I had been offered a cut from the sale of the slaves when we reached the Indies as a bonus.

It seemed a good match. On his own admission, Captain Dugarry was not concerned with the fineries of sailing; he was a leader and disciplinarian, a businessman as well. He saw profit and wanted somebody to steer his cargo safely across hazardous waters to make it. He needed a skilled seaman, and I was that man; decades of service harrying the British navy down the coast of West Africa, across the Atlantic, and in the Indies gave me experience of these waters. One last job, I thought. One last payday to see me into my retirement, and perhaps then I would be able to turn away from the sea.

I did not know then the journey I was about to embark on was not only a voyage across a sea, but also one into the darkness of my soul.

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