Daughter Of The Sea
by Sylvia Broady
Synopsis
‘Well-paced … genuinely gripping’ Historical Novels Review
Jessica is grieving for her beloved father, trawler owner Jacob Kingdom, when a heated confrontation ends with her being cast out from the family home and the revelation of a shameful secret. She falls upon the kindness of strangers and meets a charismatic trawlerman, who is proud to walk out with Kingdom’s daughter.
But with her cold-hearted brother at the helm of the family business, there is discontent rising, and being Kingdom’s daughter begins to lose its charm. With Jessica desperate to prove herself worthy to the tight-knit community, does she have what it takes to weather the storm to come, or will her secret hold her back?
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Jessica is grieving for her beloved father, trawler owner Jacob Kingdom, when a heated confrontation ends with her being cast out from the family home and the revelation of a shameful secret. She falls upon the kindness of strangers and meets a charismatic trawlerman, who is proud to walk out with Kingdom’s daughter.
But with her cold-hearted brother at the helm of the family business, there is discontent rising, and being Kingdom’s daughter begins to lose its charm. With Jessica desperate to prove herself worthy to the tight-knit community, does she have what it takes to weather the storm to come, or will her secret hold her back?
Purchase Link:
Can - https://www.amazon.ca/Daughter-Sea-unforgettable-families-secrets-ebook/dp/B081S2XHDG/
Chapter One
February 1937, Hull, East Yorkshire
She slammed the door behind her and raced across the lawn towards the Humber Estuary wanting to obliterate their angry voices. Along the rough path she trekked, her heart racing with fury and her mind and body incensed with the knowledge of how they planned to treat her so.
After some time, she slowed her steps, uncertain where she was. Fog rolled in off the Humber, and swirled round her, its dampness clinging to her face. She peered into the murkiness for the familiar landmark of the dock office and safety, but it wasn’t there. She must have taken a wrong turn because she didn’t recognise the area, seeing only ghostly shadows of an unknown street. Shivering, she clasped her arms about her body, wishing she wore a coat and hat now that the hot anger, which had filled her body and mind, had evaporated.
Suddenly, she heard the raucous laughter of men. Listening, it came nearer. The dank darkness of the fog protected her as she edged along a brick wall of a building, and with relief she backed into a shop doorway. Attempting to be invisible, she wrapped her arms tightly around her trembling body, feeling the rapid thud of her heartbeat. She screwed her eyes tight shut and held her breath as they lumbered past.
And then a rat scuttled across her feet and she screamed. A loud piercing noise filled the eerie space around her.
Three young trawlermen backtracked their steps and appeared in the doorway. They stared at her. She froze, hoping they would move on and she just stared back, taking in their snazzy onshore suits. The whiff of strong beer caught the back of her throat and the ingrained odour of fish on their skin made her cough. She wanted to run, but her feet felt set in concrete and refused to move. Never before had anyone from the fishing community confronted her and she was uncertain how to address them to make them move. Hastily, she scrambled words together, but before she could say them, one of them spoke.
‘Well, well, what have we got here?’ he slurred.
His breath reeking with alcohol hit her face, making her wince. ‘I know I fancied a quick shag, but I didn’t expect it so soon.’
He lunged forward and made a grab for her, but she dodged him by moving aside, scraping her back on the metal door handle. ‘Yer wanna play it rough, eh, lass?’ He swayed as he made to thrust at her again. at her. She froze, hoping they would move on and she just stared back, taking in their snazzy onshore suits. The whiff of strong beer caught the back of her throat and the ingrained odour of fish on their skin made her cough. She wanted to run, but her feet felt set in concrete and refused to move. Never before had anyone from the fishing community confronted her and she was uncertain how to address them to make them move. Hastily, she scrambled words together, but before she could say them, one of them spoke.
‘Well, well, what have we got here?’ he slurred.
His breath reeking with alcohol hit her face, making her wince. ‘I know I fancied a quick shag, but I didn’t expect it so soon.’
He lunged forward and made a grab for her, but she dodged him by moving aside, scraping her back on the metal door handle. ‘Yer wanna play it rough, eh, lass?’ He swayed as he made to thrust at her again.
His two mates laughed and egged him on, enjoying the banter. ‘Go on, yer drunken bugger, show us what yer made of. Get stuck in there.’
Anger rose in her throat and she shouted as loud as she could over their voices. ‘Don’t you dare touch me! I will set my brother Claude on to you.’
‘Claude,’ he mimicked, ‘Who the hell’s he?’
‘He’s Claude Kingdom who pays your wages!’
The men, struck dumb at the mention of the hated name of the new trawler owner, stared at her, peering closer. ‘Lord Almighty, it’s Kingdom’s daughter,’ one of them said in a shocked voice. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
Sylvia Broady was born in Hull and has lived in the area all her life, although she loves to travel the world. It wasn’t until she started to frequent her local library after World War II that her relationship with literature truly began, and her memories of the war influence her writing as does her home town. She has had a varied career in childcare, the NHS and the EYC Library Services, but is now a full-time writer.
Social Media Links
Website: https://sylviabroadyauthor.com/
Twitter: @SylviaBroady
Extract
Chapter One
February 1937, Hull, East Yorkshire
She slammed the door behind her and raced across the lawn towards the Humber Estuary wanting to obliterate their angry voices. Along the rough path she trekked, her heart racing with fury and her mind and body incensed with the knowledge of how they planned to treat her so.
After some time, she slowed her steps, uncertain where she was. Fog rolled in off the Humber, and swirled round her, its dampness clinging to her face. She peered into the murkiness for the familiar landmark of the dock office and safety, but it wasn’t there. She must have taken a wrong turn because she didn’t recognise the area, seeing only ghostly shadows of an unknown street. Shivering, she clasped her arms about her body, wishing she wore a coat and hat now that the hot anger, which had filled her body and mind, had evaporated.
Suddenly, she heard the raucous laughter of men. Listening, it came nearer. The dank darkness of the fog protected her as she edged along a brick wall of a building, and with relief she backed into a shop doorway. Attempting to be invisible, she wrapped her arms tightly around her trembling body, feeling the rapid thud of her heartbeat. She screwed her eyes tight shut and held her breath as they lumbered past.
And then a rat scuttled across her feet and she screamed. A loud piercing noise filled the eerie space around her.
Three young trawlermen backtracked their steps and appeared in the doorway. They stared at her. She froze, hoping they would move on and she just stared back, taking in their snazzy onshore suits. The whiff of strong beer caught the back of her throat and the ingrained odour of fish on their skin made her cough. She wanted to run, but her feet felt set in concrete and refused to move. Never before had anyone from the fishing community confronted her and she was uncertain how to address them to make them move. Hastily, she scrambled words together, but before she could say them, one of them spoke.
‘Well, well, what have we got here?’ he slurred.
His breath reeking with alcohol hit her face, making her wince. ‘I know I fancied a quick shag, but I didn’t expect it so soon.’
He lunged forward and made a grab for her, but she dodged him by moving aside, scraping her back on the metal door handle. ‘Yer wanna play it rough, eh, lass?’ He swayed as he made to thrust at her again. at her. She froze, hoping they would move on and she just stared back, taking in their snazzy onshore suits. The whiff of strong beer caught the back of her throat and the ingrained odour of fish on their skin made her cough. She wanted to run, but her feet felt set in concrete and refused to move. Never before had anyone from the fishing community confronted her and she was uncertain how to address them to make them move. Hastily, she scrambled words together, but before she could say them, one of them spoke.
‘Well, well, what have we got here?’ he slurred.
His breath reeking with alcohol hit her face, making her wince. ‘I know I fancied a quick shag, but I didn’t expect it so soon.’
He lunged forward and made a grab for her, but she dodged him by moving aside, scraping her back on the metal door handle. ‘Yer wanna play it rough, eh, lass?’ He swayed as he made to thrust at her again.
His two mates laughed and egged him on, enjoying the banter. ‘Go on, yer drunken bugger, show us what yer made of. Get stuck in there.’
Anger rose in her throat and she shouted as loud as she could over their voices. ‘Don’t you dare touch me! I will set my brother Claude on to you.’
‘Claude,’ he mimicked, ‘Who the hell’s he?’
‘He’s Claude Kingdom who pays your wages!’
The men, struck dumb at the mention of the hated name of the new trawler owner, stared at her, peering closer. ‘Lord Almighty, it’s Kingdom’s daughter,’ one of them said in a shocked voice. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
Author Bio
Sylvia Broady was born in Hull and has lived in the area all her life, although she loves to travel the world. It wasn’t until she started to frequent her local library after World War II that her relationship with literature truly began, and her memories of the war influence her writing as does her home town. She has had a varied career in childcare, the NHS and the EYC Library Services, but is now a full-time writer.
Social Media Links
Website: https://sylviabroadyauthor.com/
Twitter: @SylviaBroady
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