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Stranded in Paradise
When an Englishman washes up on the shores of a tropical island, he’s rescued by the most beautiful and exotic woman he’s ever seen. He’s certain he’s found paradise until the sun sets and his beautiful companion morphs into a man. Now he must learn to adapt to this strange and magical island or find some way back home. |
Excerpt
Still waters and stifling heat made life aboard the ship unbearable. Every day we prayed for cool wind in our sails. We were blown off course. Food rotted. Water was rationed.
I said to God, save me or kill me, but do not make me endure another day of this.
The sky turned black. Still winds became a tempest. Men screamed in terror as the ship rocked violently on mountain high waves.
Lightening crackled across the sky, allowing me to see the faces of my crew mates twisted in fear, and then leaving me in darkness once again.
God's watery fist slammed down onto the ship, shattering it. As I slipped into the ocean depths, my last thoughts were of gratitude.
When I opened my eyes the face of an angel filled my vision. Her long black hair fell all around me. Her caramel colored skin gleamed under the midday sun. She smiled at me. Her deep purple eyes told me she was ethereal, something beyond the world I'd known.
My eyes moved from her face down to her uncovered shoulders, and stopped at her bare breasts. Maybe angels didn't wear clothes. After all, Adam and Eve didn't recognize their own nakedness until they ate from the tree of knowledge and lost their innocence.
And she was definitely innocent. There was no shyness about her nakedness. No fear as she cupped my cheek and asked, "Are you hurting?"
I took stock of my surroundings. I was on a beach, the ocean water lapping at my skin. With great effort, I managed to sit up. My chest was tight and my muscles ached. "The pain is tolerable."
The woman helped me to my feet. "I am glad. My name is Esa."
"Pleasure to meet you, Esa. I'm Desmond. Where am I?”
"You are on the Isle of Nystiai," she replied.
"I'm not familiar with that island. How far are we from England?"
"I am sorry. I do not know where England is." She draped my arm over her shoulder and helped me to her camp. A small fire burned in front of a shelter made from large glossy leaves.
"But you're speaking English." I crawled into the shelter, resting on the blankets inside.
She rolled up a blanket to serve as my pillow. "I do not know this word, English.”
"It's the language you're speaking."
She peeled my shirt off. "Language?"
I grabbed a handful of sand. "In English this is called sand, but in Spanish it's arena and in Italian it's sabbia."
She pulled at my pants. "I do not understand. You said the same thing three times."
I grabbed her hand and she tilted her head in confusion. I realized that to her my modesty was probably silly, and the clothes were wet. They needed to come off or I'd get sick. I released her, and let her take the pants.
She hung up my clothes on a nearby branch and brought back several wrapped leaves. She unwrapped them by my side and the smell of baked fish made my mouth water. She broke off pieces and pressed them to my lips. I munched happily on the most delicious food I'd ever eaten, certain that I had found paradise.
Still waters and stifling heat made life aboard the ship unbearable. Every day we prayed for cool wind in our sails. We were blown off course. Food rotted. Water was rationed.
I said to God, save me or kill me, but do not make me endure another day of this.
The sky turned black. Still winds became a tempest. Men screamed in terror as the ship rocked violently on mountain high waves.
Lightening crackled across the sky, allowing me to see the faces of my crew mates twisted in fear, and then leaving me in darkness once again.
God's watery fist slammed down onto the ship, shattering it. As I slipped into the ocean depths, my last thoughts were of gratitude.
When I opened my eyes the face of an angel filled my vision. Her long black hair fell all around me. Her caramel colored skin gleamed under the midday sun. She smiled at me. Her deep purple eyes told me she was ethereal, something beyond the world I'd known.
My eyes moved from her face down to her uncovered shoulders, and stopped at her bare breasts. Maybe angels didn't wear clothes. After all, Adam and Eve didn't recognize their own nakedness until they ate from the tree of knowledge and lost their innocence.
And she was definitely innocent. There was no shyness about her nakedness. No fear as she cupped my cheek and asked, "Are you hurting?"
I took stock of my surroundings. I was on a beach, the ocean water lapping at my skin. With great effort, I managed to sit up. My chest was tight and my muscles ached. "The pain is tolerable."
The woman helped me to my feet. "I am glad. My name is Esa."
"Pleasure to meet you, Esa. I'm Desmond. Where am I?”
"You are on the Isle of Nystiai," she replied.
"I'm not familiar with that island. How far are we from England?"
"I am sorry. I do not know where England is." She draped my arm over her shoulder and helped me to her camp. A small fire burned in front of a shelter made from large glossy leaves.
"But you're speaking English." I crawled into the shelter, resting on the blankets inside.
She rolled up a blanket to serve as my pillow. "I do not know this word, English.”
"It's the language you're speaking."
She peeled my shirt off. "Language?"
I grabbed a handful of sand. "In English this is called sand, but in Spanish it's arena and in Italian it's sabbia."
She pulled at my pants. "I do not understand. You said the same thing three times."
I grabbed her hand and she tilted her head in confusion. I realized that to her my modesty was probably silly, and the clothes were wet. They needed to come off or I'd get sick. I released her, and let her take the pants.
She hung up my clothes on a nearby branch and brought back several wrapped leaves. She unwrapped them by my side and the smell of baked fish made my mouth water. She broke off pieces and pressed them to my lips. I munched happily on the most delicious food I'd ever eaten, certain that I had found paradise.