a selkie by the sea 🌊

this was from last month :)

wet beast time!

my take on @posnakkel's selkie oc whom i love very much. his seal skin has been Through A Lot and is missing parts, so he got this ragged emo look.

[my tinfoil-as-water experiment did not work quite as well as i had hoped, but gets the thought across. i'll keep fiddling with it next time i need water for photos.]

Laces for a Lady - Chapter Nine (v. light nsfw)

Thank you so much for your comments on Chapter Eight, and I'm sorry I left it on such a cliffie! At least you didn't have to wait a thousand years for the resolution this time :).

Content: very minor concussion, The Reveal, some kissing/light nsfw, and the promise of something different on the horizon... Wordcount: 4555

<- previous chapter (free to everyone to read over on Patreon right now)

Catch up on all parts here (1-7 links to Tumblr): Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), (bonus Locryn & Ned chapter post Chpt3, sfw), Part Four (sfw), Part Five (sfw), Part Six (sfw), Part Seven (sfw), Part Eight (sfw)

Happy Mermay! To start things off, here is Chapter Eight of Laces for a Lady.

For those who may have missed this over on Tumblr, it is a polyamorous (m/m/f) romance set in 18th-century Cornwall, at the height of the era of smugglers and excise men. It features twenty-five year old Eleanor 'Nel' Bywater, who travels alone from Sussex to Cornwall to take up the position of 'companion' to a young widow at Heath Top House, situated just outside the fishing village of Polgarrack.

There Nel meets Edmund Nancarrow, the reserved and dark-eyed tailor's assistant, and Locryn Trevethan, a wild, grizzled, older man who keeps to himself on the outskirts of even Polgarrack society. She finds herself falling in love with the rugged coastline and its fierce and hardy people, and is quickly drawn to both Ned and Locryn, who seem equally taken with her wild spirit and quick smile.

You can catch up with the story on Tumblr here, and this post will go public here on Patreon next week. Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), (bonus Locryn & Ned chapter post Chpt3, sfw), Part Four (sfw), Part Five (sfw), Part Six (sfw), Part Seven (sfw)

I highly recommend listening to this ambient soundtrack on YouTube from Poldark while you read this, if combining music with reading is your thing... :). I always play this when I'm working on this story.

Contents: a wild, winter storm stirs up frightening memories for Winnie, Nel learns a little about the folklore of the region from old Aggie, Blackthorn the mare is her usual wilful self, Edmund reveals a bit about his past and how he came by his injury, and Nel comes upon something on the shore on her way home that sends her tumbling from Blackthorn's saddle... Wordcount: 5615

(long) preview:

The dreams started up again with startling clarity after her visit from Edmund, and Nel began to question her sanity.

Sometimes she lay tangled on mounds of silken sand or a bed of soft kelp while something silver brushed against her outer thigh, and other times she lay deep beneath the waves, able to breathe in the dream, and found herself coiled around and around by the thick muscle of a creature’s tail. Always though, it remained at the periphery of her mind; just out of reach of the grasping fingers of perception.

Sometimes Nel was lifted up by strong, rough hands that reminded her of Locryn’s when he’d spun her around in the country dance, but these hands ended in black claws and the skin was a dark, greenish brown, and as they breached the surface of the waves together and sent water sparkling up in a shattered spray, something in her would shatter too, and she would wake gasping and dewy-damp with sweat and desire.

It’s free to read on Patreon now!

Happy Mermay! To start things off, here is Chapter Eight of Laces for a Lady.

For those who may have missed this over on Tumblr, it is a polyamorous (m/m/f) romance set in 18th-century Cornwall, at the height of the era of smugglers and excise men. It features twenty-five year old Eleanor 'Nel' Bywater, who travels alone from Sussex to Cornwall to take up the position of 'companion' to a young widow at Heath Top House, situated just outside the fishing village of Polgarrack.

There Nel meets Edmund Nancarrow, the reserved and dark-eyed tailor's assistant, and Locryn Trevethan, a wild, grizzled, older man who keeps to himself on the outskirts of even Polgarrack society. She finds herself falling in love with the rugged coastline and its fierce and hardy people, and is quickly drawn to both Ned and Locryn, who seem equally taken with her wild spirit and quick smile.

You can catch up with the story on Tumblr here, and this post will go public here on Patreon next week. Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), (bonus Locryn & Ned chapter post Chpt3, sfw), Part Four (sfw), Part Five (sfw), Part Six (sfw), Part Seven (sfw)

I highly recommend listening to this ambient soundtrack on YouTube from Poldark while you read this, if combining music with reading is your thing... :). I always play this when I'm working on this story.

Contents: a wild, winter storm stirs up frightening memories for Winnie, Nel learns a little about the folklore of the region from old Aggie, Blackthorn the mare is her usual wilful self, Edmund reveals a bit about his past and how he came by his injury, and Nel comes upon something on the shore on her way home that sends her tumbling from Blackthorn's saddle... Wordcount: 5615

(long) preview:

The dreams started up again with startling clarity after her visit from Edmund, and Nel began to question her sanity.

Sometimes she lay tangled on mounds of silken sand or a bed of soft kelp while something silver brushed against her outer thigh, and other times she lay deep beneath the waves, able to breathe in the dream, and found herself coiled around and around by the thick muscle of a creature’s tail. Always though, it remained at the periphery of her mind; just out of reach of the grasping fingers of perception.

Sometimes Nel was lifted up by strong, rough hands that reminded her of Locryn’s when he’d spun her around in the country dance, but these hands ended in black claws and the skin was a dark, greenish brown, and as they breached the surface of the waves together and sent water sparkling up in a shattered spray, something in her would shatter too, and she would wake gasping and dewy-damp with sweat and desire.

Laces for a Lady - 18th century poly shifter romance (Part one, sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me. 

Well folks, here it is. You said you were interested, so I hope it meets expectations! Here's part one for you, of a multi part story. If you want to kno wmore about it, you can find some more info here, as well as a little 'mood board'.

Content: sfw, the daughter of a country gentleman from Sussex relocates to a sleepy fishing village in Cornwall in order to become the paid companion of a young widow, and meets some of the locals on her arrival. Wordcount: 3972

In the cool, lavender light of a late spring dawn, a gaff-rigged cutter drew into the sheltering arms of a small bay at high tide, and quietly dropped anchor. As if the soft splash had awoken him, a cockerel spluttered to life in a farmyard somewhere inland, but most of the villagers were already up and awake and steering their small, secret fleet of boats out from the golden crescent of sand beneath the cliffs to meet the waiting ship fresh from Roscoff.

Beneath the waves, where churning kelp moored itself in unyielding handfuls to the ancient granite of the sea floor, a long, serpentine shadow snaked between the stalks, and the currents of the coastline subtly shifted. Any revenue men trying to sail along the coast from Fowey to catch the smugglers would have found the wind and tide set dead against them, and in the subtle wake that wafted from the mottled, eel-like tail as it passed unseen, the waters of the secluded inlet calmed beneath the keels of the scurrying fishing boats. The drag of the oars through the waves lessened, and muscles already tired from heaving and hefting goods up the cliff moved a fraction easier for the unexpected boon.

Between them over the next hour, the gathered men and women shifted their haul of half anker barrels and dozens of crates and boxes of goods ashore. The small kegs of rich, French cognac would fetch a pretty price all across Cornwall, and along with the liquor came smaller luxuries like lace and silk, and bundles of tobacco and spiced tea, all meticulously wrapped in oil cloth to keep the sea and the salt and the water out.

And when the speedy, slender ship was riding noticeably higher in the water, the locals simply melted away into the countryside like so many mice from a late summer granary before the excise men even knew the ship from Guernsey had visited the cove at all.

Fifteen miles away, as the sun breached the horizon and cast its first rays of warmth along bellies of fleecy clouds and the flanks of blossoming hedgerows below, a stagecoach lurched and rumbled westwards along potholed roads, and a young woman stared out of the grimy window as the horses carried her into a new chapter of her life.

Laces for a Lady - 18th century, poly, shifters x human romance - Chapter Seven (sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me. 

Contents: some passing comments comparing two different female body types in a negative way, and some measurement taking and a dress fitting that leaves Nel a little breathless. Who knew Mr. Nancarrow had it in him to be so smooth. Mr. Darcy hand-flex fans, be warned...

Wordcount: 3931

Catch up here: Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw), Part Five (sfw), Part Six (sfw)

Edmund flushed at Nel’s boldly obvious compliment, but was saved any further embarrassment by Mr. Fordyce announcing that it was Nel’s turn, and that he would have to take Nel’s measurements since he didn’t have them in his records as he did Winnie’s.

This time it was Nel whose face turned hot, but she met Edmund’s gaze again as he stepped forwards, rested his cane against the nearby table gently enough not to cause the arrangement of dried flowers in the centre even to quiver, and then he carefully passed the ribbon of paper around her waist. He kept his eyes down, but his long, delicate fingers moved with nimble grace as he held the paper and snipped the tailor’s marks in it which would correspond to the various locations of the measurements.

“And now inhale,” he murmured, and she obliged, letting her ribs inflate naturally. She could feel his knuckles pressing ever so slightly against her body through the fabric of the thinner, less structured dress she’d chosen for that day, and she tried not to shiver.

Laces for a Lady - 18th century, poly, shifters x human romance - Chapter Six (sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me. 

Thanks for answering the poll about length of chapters - much appreciated!

Really hope you enjoy this one. It's a bit of a quieter tone, but things get a touch more 'intimate' next time... It's my favourite scene so far anyway. *shrug*. I've fettled with this chapter so much now that I can't see the wood for the trees, so here it is anyway.

Content: a chance encounter with Edmund leads to some clarification, and an invitation is delivered to Heath Top House that sends a chill of dread through Winnie but opens up an opportunity for Nel... Wordcount: 2995

Catch up here: Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw), Part Five (sfw)

By the time she reached the front door of the manor house, Nel could hardly see for the tears that made her vision swim and shift, but she made it upstairs to her room before bursting into a shuddering flood of emotion that threatened to drown her completely.

She ached more than ever for the easy, familiar companionship of her best friend, but she missed something else besides Will’s steady presence; something that had been teased before her that very night, but which she would probably never know in earnest: the true affection of a lover’s touch.

Plus, she’d made a complete fool of herself in nearly kissing Locryn Trevethan like that — Lammas Dance liberties be damned — and guilt and shame at what Edmund Nancarrow must think of her now flooded through her like one of the breakers which had nearly drowned her on the beach. With a shuddering huff of despair, she sank onto her bed and wept bleakly until her head ached and her throat was raw.

Outside her window, the music and dancing continued late into the night, and the laughter got more raucous and rowdy as the night wore on. She hoped Locryn and Ned were among those laughing, and Winnie too. Perhaps Locryn would dance with the young woman with whom she’d seen Edmund talking and laughing earlier. She had had the same large, brown eyes and pale skin as Edmund, and Nel wondered if she too was one of the numerous Nancarrows whom Aggie had mentioned living in the area; perhaps a cousin or a younger sister.

At some point hours later, when the music had faded and folks seemed to have drifted home in dribs and drabs, her bedroom door opened and she heard Winnie’s soft voice whisper her name. She feigned sleep from the depths of her chilly bed, her dress abandoned on the floorboards nearby, and the sliver of light on the ceiling retreated, plunging the room into midnight shadow once again.

That night she dreamed once more of thundering surf and dark kelp, and of the silvery flash of something swimming between the seaweed that wasn’t the eel’s tail she’d seen in her dreams before. She got the odd impression that she was being searched for as she lurked down among the shadows at the bottom of a deep, submerged cove, and in the dream she tried to conceal herself further in the fronds of kelp that brushed against her sides like a lover’s hands.

Laces for a Lady - 18th century, poly, shifters x human romance - Chapter Five (sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me. 

Here's chapter five! I've been blown away by your reaction and love for this story so far, and the fact that I've got two lots of fan art out of it as well has just totally humbled me. Thank you! You can find them here and here, by the way, as well as my own doodles of Locryn and Ned.

Anyway, here we have the Harvest Festival Dance, where all bets are off, and there's some angst and a sprinkling of drama for some *spice*...

Wordcount: 4203

Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw)

The night of the Lammas Festival dance ticked around in no time, and even though the focus of the festivities was the great barn and the yard outside, the whole of Heath Top House itself came alive.

The staff spent the entire day scouring the stone floor of the barn and setting out the long tables in the barn and preparing the feast, while Winnie and Nel tried not to get in their way while weaving and hanging decorative wreaths and festoons along the walls, and tying ribbons in bows on the huge doors.

As promised, Aggie had come to the house a few days before to teach the two ladies how to weave the traditional corn dollies, or Nests as they were called in these parts, much to Nel’s confusion. Her own hadn’t turned out too bad, despite her lack of skill with an embroidery needle, while Winnie’s was decidedly lumpy and misshapen. Still, they laughed and hung them in pride of place in the drawing room window, and Aggie had even managed a kind word about their efforts while gossipping about everyone in the village.

“Little Betsie Carne is going to get a proposal from Arthur, you can count on that, and Meg has been leading poor Jack on something dreadful. If he can get a word out without turning red as an autumn apple to ask her to dance on Lammas night, I’ll eat this whole Neck with gravy and turnips!” she cackled, waving her own intricate corn dolly at them like a cook with a wooden spoon while they all laughed.

Nel refrained from asking about whether Edmund Nancarrow or Locryn Trevethan would be seen with anyone, though she was curious if the older woman had noticed their seemingly obvious adoration for one another. Perhaps it was one of those things that everyone knew about and simply didn’t mention in case it brought unwanted attention down on them, much like the smuggling and Free Trade in the area. Nel was not one to rock the proverbial boat, and kept her focus on the plaited strand of corn in her fingers, all the while remembering the way Locryn had crowded close to Edmund on the quayside and the sound of his smouldering voice as he’d growled soft endearments at him under his breath.