Madam Cricket

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I'm Madam Cricket, AKA Shelly to my friends and family, Michelle to my acquaintances and Madam to those soon to be disposed of in Davy Jones’ locker. This is my story, before there was a commodore or a harbor or even a place that I named Eilean er Coayl Grayse (Isle of Lost Grace).

I'm Scottish, born of Clan Frazier, and have a tendency to separate a man from his gold without even trying. The clan of Frazier is known for its brushes with authority in one vein or another. The men especially when a silk skirt is involved.

As is custom, my father arranged my marriage to the son of the head of the Moffett clan. It was a very good match as far as my father was concerned, but the man he chose was not a good husband, save for one thing; he gave me a daughter and a son. So one dark night, after years of unhappiness and torment, I fought back, and murdered my unfaithful husband in his sleep.

As it would happen, my brother Jereth was passing through town on that fateful night. He was fleeing persecution of his own. He helped with disposing the body and covering my tracks. Being experienced and able to the task he was happy to help me in my hour of need. Leaving with little more than the clothes on our backs, and all of my late husband’s gold, Jereth, my children and I crept through the blackness and beauty of Scotland to the nearest port. From there we booked passage to the country of Ireland using our mothers clan name of Lindsey as cover. With a bit of creative conversation and subtle seduction I was able to barter passage for my brother, my children and myself to the New World. I helped in the galley with my daughter, and befriended a young woman named Mouse who would prove useful, as well as “Princess” another woman fed up with the ignorance and ineptitude of men. The captain of this vessel was easily manipulated, one of my favorite traits in a mark. My brother Jereth and son Rex, who was cabin boy, also made alliances. At one point, these proved invaluable, aiding in evading possible discovery and capture when a man of law was aboard.

Half way to the New World, our ship was taken by a pirate by the name of Captain Moon. He gave us an option of joining him or being sent to the deep. Of course, we made ourselves useful. We reached a small unknown Isle, and I fell in love with solid land once again. This was where I wanted to stay. There was a sheltered bay which made a natural harbor, fertile ground for growing food, and good grazing land on the hill sides. It was the perfect place for me to build my house. By this time Captain Moon was enamored of me and my whelps, and gifted us with supplies and a bit of crew for labor to start a small port and settlement. I am loath to admit it sometimes, but I became steadily enraptured by him as well. He grew on me, like a barnacle.

Now, we reside in safety on the Isle of Lost Grace. With our growing community we are now self sufficient and thriving, able to provide rest and “relaxation” to many weary sailors. There are services and facilities for recreation of most any kind, either for the mind or body. If you should fall victim to evil spirits, strange itches, or both, there is one who can service...I mean serve, you. One and all are welcome. No reservations, agents, or reading skills required. All things come to those who pay the right price!

- We reserve the right to run you through- (Or anything else our twisted hearts can conceive, our brilliant minds can conjure and our perverse tastes can indulge) Should you offend our delicate female sensibilities

Kiss, Kiss

The Madam