Redeeming the Pirate
by Chloe Flowers
Pirates & Petticoats, #5
Publication Date: March 22, 2018
Genres: Adult, Historical, Romance, Standalone
AVAILABLE NOW FREE WITH KINDLE UNLIMITED!
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2qMiQy
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SYNOPSIS:
He steals for the French crown.
She heals for the Catholic church.
He will heal her heart.
She will steal his.
To complete a mission for the French crown, a former pirate must either commit treason or betray the woman he secretly loves. Betraying one sends him to the guillotine, the other straight to hell.
French Privateer, Captain Drago Gamponetti is given one final mission from his employer, the king of France: reclaim religious relics from a New Orleans cathedral and bring them back. Trouble begins when he’s forced by a mysterious, veiled, novitiate nun to swear on the Bible to protect the very items he was instructed to steal.
Worse, 60 British warships have amassed in Negril Bay, Jamaica, preparing to attack New Orleans. He must retrieve the relics before the British arrive and seize the city.
How will Drago complete his mission without failing his employer or breaking his vow and betraying the church and the woman who has stolen his heart?
Novitiate nun and healer, Eva Trudeau has secrets, and hides more than her face behind the veil. The convent has been her safe haven since she crawled, beaten and bloody, to its door nine years ago. When an old enemy re-surfaces and threatens to drag her back into the dark underworld from where she’d escaped, both she and her dark pirate captain stand to lose everything they’ve fought so hard to protect…including each other.
This series is about spirited, independent women and rakish bad boy pirates, wrapped up in women’s action and adventure sea stories. If you enjoy romantic action and adventure, action and action and adventure romance fiction, historical romance or women’s fiction, you’ll love the Pirates & Petticoats series.
Excerpt:
He shifted. The angle of his head
gave her a full view of both narrowed silver eyes. "Why are you so eager
to return?"
Before she could answer,
the captain's shoulders tensed and his attention whipped around to
focus to the right of the trail ahead. Broad leafy shadows crossed
the moonlit path. Nothing moved, no sounds.
No noises at all.
No beetles buzzing, no night
creatures rustling in the underbrush, no chirping tree frogs. Her lungs
tightened. Jamaica wasn't without its dangerous beasts, both human and animal.
"What is it?" she
whispered, gripping the edge of the cart seat, staring wildly into the dense
flora.
"We're
being watched." Easing a pistol from his belt with one hand, he
pulled the reins with the other. The mule's ears twitched; he stopped abruptly,
attention forward, listening. The captain spoke in a low voice.
"Easy."
A lone figure stood on the trail a
few yards ahead of them. "Why you be travelin' dis time o' night, Sistah
Eva? You gots troubles?"
She slumped with relief. Miss
Kalia. Next to her, the captain froze, his hands gripping the reins
as if they kept him from falling into a burning pit of lava.
"I'm taking a sick child to
the caves."
"Girl-child then. Who wit
you?"
She swallowed. The premonition.
"Capitaine Gamponetti."
Kalia grinned then cackled a short
laugh. "Ah, yes, yes. Last
time him saw I, him come from da red house. Long night
wit da rum. Bad day next, eh Drago?"
The captain turned to granite
beside her, likely embarrassed (as well he should be) that Miss Kalia had seen
him leaving a brothel. Eva chewed her lip. Maybe she misread the man. Allowed
desperation to dictate her impressions.
The old woman approached the wagon,
swaying like seaweed with the tide, perhaps due to aching joints, but on a
night like this, it was bewitching and unnerving, like an adder
mesmerizing prey. The moonlight subdued her brightly patched skirt into shades
of grayish-reds, greens, blues, and yellows. Colorful feathers poked out in
every direction from the silver hair piled high on her head. A streak of white
paint trailed from one ear, ran along her jawline, across her chin, ending at
her other ear like a gruesome grin. Eva fought the strong desire to squirm
closer to the pirate for protection. That would give her as much reassurance as
jumping from an alligator's jaws to a lion's mouth.
Kalia hummed as she peered over the
side at Jacqueline. "T'ought so. Eva, see I in a vision just
now. Surrounded by thunder and frost, perched next to a jaguar black as night.
Woke I wide up." Before she could respond, the woman scampered
up into the wagon bed bringing with her a strong tang of wood smoke.
Julian didn't take his eyes from
her but still leaned away as she bent over his sister. She placed her palm
against the girl's cheek, her brown hand contrasting sharply with the pale
skin, even though it was still flushed with fever. She tilted
Jacqueline's head back, pressed her chin down to open her mouth. Sniffed her
breath.
Unsure what to say or do, Eva
dragged her gaze from the old woman to the captain. How long had those
two known each other? His storm gray eyes followed the crone's every
move.
Miss Kalia hopped down and slipped
to Eva's side. The old woman grasped her hand and pressed a cluster of herbs
against her clammy palm. "Her need
dis. It make best tea for dee girl. Him," she nodded
toward Captain Gamponetti and lowered her voice until it was
barely there. "Him must to drink dis." She caught
her gaze and held it, as she slid a small flask under the herbs.
"Den dat what you want by him, you get."
Eva shoved them into her bag,
afraid to refuse them, and unsure of what else to do or say.
The old Jamaican woman stepped back
from the wagon and lifted both hands in farewell. Or some sort of blessing?
Maybe a curse?
A white witch. A "good"
witch, if there was such a thing. Sister Beatrice would
say there was not. But Eva had seen too many things to denounce
anything outright. There was no telling what spell Kalia incanted or
bestowed upon them. The pirate slapped the reins and clucked the mule forward,
none too soon.
As they passed, Kalia spoke again,
but this time to him, her voice both smoky and chiseled, eyes black and white.
"Change in de wind, Drago. Time come near for you to make a choice.
Choose wrong way and die. Before de tree flowers bloom, you betray an
ally and aide a foe...break a vow. Light beckons you, but de dark always a
seductress." Her wild stare locked with Eva's. "Which voice will him
follow? Him heart or him head?"
Tension radiated from the captain
in waves of heat. Kalia had managed to slither past his, steely, rugged aura to
poke the tiniest gap between courage and unease. The muscles in his jaw
tightened, but he did not look at the old woman as they passed.
"I...I
don't know how to answer her question." Eva looked over her
shoulder, but the witch had disappeared. An awkward silence followed. The
jungle remained paralyzed for several minutes.
He could have taken
Jacqueline to Kalia, but he didn't. Most island people would have sought the
Obeah healer first. She peered at him again, understanding now why he hadn't. A
rigidity thrummed through his broad shoulders; he had a flare in his nostrils,
a fierce glint in his eyes.
Then it hit her; she terrified
him. Her curiosity flared. "Have you been acquainted with her long?"
The captain released a long breath.
"Everyone knows Kalia. And Kalia knows everyone."
A wry smile seeped up to his eyes. The edges crinkled and a dimple settled in
his cheek, giving him a roguish, but more pleasing look. Much like an
unapologetic child holding a stolen cake. "In truth, I
found there's no way to avoid her even when it's your
intense desire."
She learned much the same. A
strange sense of balance lodged between them. Kalia unnerved him as much as he
unnerved her. The vulnerability the old woman raked out of him made him less
threatening. "The people here have great respect for Miss
Kalia. It would be foolish to dismiss her or her methods. To do so
would also betray the islander's trust."
The captain slapped the reins again
and muttered, "Kalia's black medicine attracts too much attention,
especially from the white man. They do not understand it. White men fear
what they don't understand."
"It's not black
medicine." She corrected him. "Obeah is a very ancient healing
practice." Trying to ignore the twinge of foreboding they sent through her
chest, she shifted the tea and the tonic to the bottom of her sack.
"Call it what you
will, the white settlers and plantation owners fear it," he rumbled.
How should she approach the last
premonition? He had to be familiar with the old woman's visions if indeed
he knew who she was. How would he react? Surprise? Disbelief? She
plunged ahead anyway.
"Miss Kalia stopped me at the
market two days ago and told me a man would come to the abbey with a sick
girl-child," she blurted it out before she could stop
herself. He would think her a ninny. Talking about an old woman's premonitions
as if they were gospel, which they were not.
Yet, a flicker of surprise shot
across the captain's face. "She did?"
So he was familiar with Kalia's
visions. "Yes, and here you are."
"Indeed." His brows
dropped in thought, or perhaps concern.
She couldn't, wouldn't confide what Miss Kalia
had said next. That was something she dared not repeat.
"Him
not what him seem to be," the old woman had whispered. "But
den, so not are you."
ABOUT CHLOE FLOWERS
15% of Chloe’s profits go to the NATIONAL BREAST CANCER FOUNDATION.
On average, over 80% of their funds go to programs that directly support women through every step of the breast cancer journey.
Whether it’s dancing naked in a downpour at 3AM, zip-lining in a rainforest, or racing ponies, Chloe’s always looking for the next adventure.
Her pets have always been named after favorite characters or action heroes: Indiana, Luke, Gimli, Thelma, Rocket, Forrest, Al Giordino, Severus, Mushu, Mérida, Gibbs, Jack…Dead Pool (he’s a goldfish).
Chloe’s biggest fault is her apparent inability to say “no” whether it’s in response to a call for aid or a double-dog-dare to hike home through 30 acres of a snow-covered forest at midnight…during a full moon. It was early morning during said adventure when she came upon a group of sheriff’s deputies searching for a lost girl. So, of course she offered to help. Turns out, they were searching for her.
In addition to her addiction to adrenaline, she has a weakness for good red wine, dark chocolate and brown-eyed guys with beards, which is probably why she digs pirates and treasure hunters and writes about action and adventure, pirates and romance (which is the greatest adventure of all).
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1 Comments
Thanks for being a part of the blog hop!! Fair winds to you!
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