Release Blitz: Pirate Heiress, a Pirates & Petticoats Novel by Chloe Flowers
Pirate Heiress by Chloe
Flowers
A Pirates & Petticoats Novel
Publication
Date: September 15, 2016
Genres: Adult, Historical
Romance, Action & Adventure
Amazon (99c or #FREE with
#KindleUnlimited): http://amzn.to/2cFG3vg
Paperback: http://amzn.to/2ci69rs
A beautiful pirate,
a vengeful sea captain and a secret treasure…will love save
them or destroy them?A high seas, nautical, historical, pirate
romance filled with action and adventure, mystery and intrigue, and a
quest for hidden treasure! Reluctant pirate Stevie Savauge is on
a quest with her family to find a secret treasure hidden by her
great-great-grandparents, the two notorious pirates Anne Bonny and
Calico Jack Rackham. When her eight-year-old twin siblings are
kidnapped and the ransom demand is a merchant ship called the Seeker,
Stevie must find the courage to conquer her fears and fight for those
she loves. Italian-born, French privateer Drago Viteri
Gamponetti (Gampo to his men) has coveted the Ahern merchant fleet
for years. He knows if he takes one, the others will come to its aid.
He sets a trap in Jamaica, determined to capture the fleet. When
Captain Conal O’Brien discovers that the pirates work for his sworn
enemy, he doesn’t resist capture. What better way to locate Gampo’s
secret stronghold than to sail right into it? But these brigands
aren’t who they seem to be, and if Conal’s not careful, he’s
going to lose his heart as well as his ship to the woman determined
to possess both.
PIRATE HEIRESS by Chloe Flowers
CHAPTER ONE
Letter from Anne Bonny to her father
William Cormac: 3 March, 1718 Dear Father, I bid you
farewell. I know you disapprove of my choice for a husband. True, he
is but a simple sailor. However, I refuse to marry any of those
milksops or fortune hunters who continue to darken our door. I love
James Bonny and he has sworn his life to me. I ask nothing more from
you than your prayers for my health and well-being. Your
daughter, Anne July 1811 What the hell. His
sister was about to marry his best friend this evening, so he could
deal with a cold bath. Conal dragged the copper tub from
the pantry closet and poured in several buckets of tepid water. He’d
located a piece of lye soap, so at least now the bath would be well
worth the effort. The galley stove had been allowed to wane to
the lowest of coals, and he, Conal O’Brien, the captain of this
vessel, had neither the time nor inclination (or rather patience) to
heat the water for his bath. Better to just duck the head down
and get it over with. Like pulling out a tooth or a wood splinter,
cold water plunges were best done quickly. As he expected, the
water was brisk, the soap elusive, the suds painful to his eyes, and
the whole notion of soaking in a cold tub remained annoying, to say
the least. Yet as always, Conal’s stubborn tendency to fight being
bested by anything, including the temperature of his bath, won out in
the end. He had to hold his breath longer than he’d have liked, but
there were areas that needed extra attention, thanks to Gampo and his
damned crew of pirates. If he were honest with himself, it
really wasn’t entirely the attack by Gampo that had spurred the
extra scrubbing, although his coat had been torn and his breeches
stained with grime from helping a mate adjust a ship’s gun. Rather
it was the thought of his mother’s look of disappointment that made
it necessary to repair his appearance before attending his sister’s
wedding. Although they weren’t here, his parents would expect
him to see his sister married properly while representing the O’Brien
family proudly. He scrubbed a little harder. If
anyone had asked him a few months ago if his best friend would marry
again, he’d have laughed. Women were too hard a concept
to understand, for one. They were weak, silly, helpless and
emotional, making them more of a burden than anything else. Aside
from the women in his family, females in general weren’t to be
trusted, at least not the ones he usually ran across while anchored
at port. Suffice it to say that the less he trusted women, the better
off he remained. No, the notion of marriage didn’t appeal to
Conal in the least, unless...he thought for a moment. If he found a
woman more like his sister Keelan, he might consider it. She was as
good or better with a blade than any man on his ship. She was
quick-minded and independent. He’d never met another woman, save
his Aunt Risa, who belonged on the deck of a ship more. Conal’s
vessel, the Seeker, had to drop anchor farther out in the harbor
due to a thick cloud of fog obscuring everything beyond a couple
hundred paces. He’d had to row a canoe back to his ship to bathe
and change. His cousin Brendan’s ship, theReward, was docked
at the pier, providing a more convenient access to the town’s
offerings. In fact, Brendan was probably already back at the tavern
and looking like the handsome devil he was, boots polished and collar
starched. He would be damned if his cousin would find fault in
his mien this day. Brendan always seemed to find a loose chain in
Conal’s armor where appearances were concerned. But not
today. He’d already trimmed his beard and polished his boots
to a glowing shine. Even now, propped against the chair, they
reflected the low glow of the lantern swinging overhead in time with
the active motion of the water. He leaned over and grabbed
for the linen cloth draped over the edge of the tub. After wiping his
face, he braced his hands on the rim and pushed himself to his
feet. When he raised his head, his nose nearly clipped the
barrel of a pistol. A faint acrid smell of gun powder assailed his
nostrils. Eyes focused on the cold, grey metal, he was careful
to avoid any sudden movement. He raised his gaze to peruse the person
holding the weapon, a brigand wearing a wide-brimmed hat pulled low.
Beneath the hat, a brightly colored scarf covered his hair. Behind
the gun bearer stood a second figure, armed as well. “You have
my attention,” Conal said evenly. The one holding the pistol stood
between him and the lantern, but from what he could see, the intruder
was tall but slight in build. If it weren’t for the pistols, he
wouldn’t have hesitated to lunge for both of them. The
closer man must have been thinking along a similar line of thought,
because the pistol shook slightly. “This ship has been taken,” he
said. “If you value your life and the lives of the crew that
remain, you will yield.” Conal’s stomach twisted. How had he
missed the sound of battle aboard? Granted, all but the watch and a
handful of men still making repairs to the damaged sails and yard
arms had been allowed to go ashore to attend the wedding celebration,
but he should have heard a shout or a pistol shot even down here in
the galley. How many of his men had lost their lives? “Do
you yield?” The intruder tightened his hold on the pistol. Conal
cursed under his breath. “I yield. What are your demands?” He
tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. The voice sounded too...soft.
A woman, perhaps?
【⚓】
Stevie swallowed and gripped the pistol
handle more firmly. Her arm was beginning to tire from holding it for
so long, but she didn’t dare lower it. The mountain of a man in the
tub looked as if he could crush her head like a grape with one hand,
and her younger brother’s with the other one. More often than not,
she could look an average man straight in the eye. However, with this
one, her head would barely reach his nose. He cocked his head,
still awaiting her answer. His eyes narrowed before sliding down to
her soft doeskin boots and back up again. She should have stayed more
in the shadows; she would have been a bit more intimidating that
way. “Stevie,” Remi whispered from behind her, bringing her
attention back in line. What was the question? Oh, yes.
Demands. “You’ll relinquish the ship and all its cargo,”
she said, barely able to keep the tremor from her voice. Her gaze
paused at the gold ring on the man’s finger. If they were going to
become pirates, she might as well start acting like one. She took a
deep breath and drew her shoulders back a little. “Let’s
start with your ring,” she said, holding out her hand. The man’s
jaw clenched and the knuckles gripping the tub’s edge whitened.
What thoughts were flying around in his head? He was contemplating
his chances of overpowering her and taking her pistol; she could see
that in the way his gaze shifted back and forth between her and her
younger brother. If he had a weapon, and if it had been a one-on-one
situation instead of one against two (with guns), he likely wouldn’t
have paused to contemplate it this long. He would have defended
himself. She eased a step back, careful to keep her pistol well
within a lethal range. “Please don’t try it,” she said. “I’d
prefer to save my shot.” His eyes widened and his brows raised
in surprise. She’d been right in her assumptions, then. She usually
was. Her intuition annoyed her brothers no small amount, and they
always avoided her when they wished their thoughts to
remain...theirs. Only one of them could hide from her, but he was a
gambler and so it was expected, otherwise he wouldn’t be a very
good gambler, would he? The man twisted the ring from his finger
and tossed it to her. She placed it on the only finger it would
fit—her thumb. Keeping her focus on their hostage, she
moved behind him to the stack of clothes on the galley table and
removed the dagger and pistol next to them. She’d have to keep a
close watch on him; he looked like the type of man who’d rather
fight against the odds than give himself over. They needed to get him
up on deck with her other brothers before she fainted from the trauma
of this whole episode. She was far from her cozy little
room off the kitchens of her brother’s gaming house. Before they’d
boarded the ship, Uncle Bernard had given her a brief lesson on
managing a pistol, but it still terrified her to hold it.“Get
dressed,” she said, with as much authority as she could muster. He
reached for the linen rag. Stevie felt her eyes widen. She was wrong.
Very wrong. The top of her head would barely reach his chin, let
alone his nose. Wide, thick shoulders took up most of the space in
the galley. His muscles rippled as he moved. A long scar trailed from
the top of his shoulder to the middle of his ribcage. A fighting man.
A very strong, very muscular, very handsome, very naked man. She
should shut her eyes, avert her gaze, something...but to do so would
be foolish right now. She’d never seen a naked man as perfectly
proportioned as this one. To be honest, she’d only seen one other
naked man (other than her terribly immodest brothers while growing
up). Remi’s mortified expression from the doorway prompted her
to roll her eyes and give him a pointed look he interpreted
perfectly. She’d changed his diapers when she was eight. She’d
also lost her virginity after falling foolishly in love with a
gambler who’d promised her a life of travel and luxury. The next
day, after losing everything he had as well as several hundred
dollars in credits to the house, he disappeared and never returned.
Lesson learned. Men would tell a woman anything to sway her
attentions to the bedroom. Their captive turned toward her
and reached for his clothes. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her
mouth and she could barely swallow. He had a chiseled chest with a
faint layer of fine, light brown hair that darkened to a burnished
auburn as it trailed past his navel to his...his... Oh, my. When
she turned her attention back to his face, his expression was rather
mocking. “Satisfied, little rabbit?” he asked. So
he’d already guessed she was a woman in men’s clothing. She
assumed he was talking about her perusal, which she wasn’t about to
address. No need to give him a burst of confidence right now. Her
mouth was still dry. Instead, she asked a question. “Little
rabbit?” She looked nothing at all like a rabbit. Her ears, along
with her hair, were covered. “You look as if you’re ready to
jump out of your skin. Perhaps you’re afraid of me?” He leaned
toward her. Yes. “No.” She barely managed a
response. Her attempt at laughter was pathetic at
best. “Well...little rabbit...you should be.” He
jerked on his clothes. A pair of shiny cordovan boots stood next to
the tub, and he pulled them on while he muttering obscenities about
someone named Brendan. That task complete, he stood up straight,
crossed his arms over his very impressive chest and glowered at her.
His eyes were a grey-green with a golden band around the pupil,
reminding her of a tiger she’d once seen in a traveling show. She
wanted to swallow, but she was paralyzed. Was this how a tiger’s
prey felt just before it became dinner? He’d already figured
out she was female. Now he was studying her, calculating the odds on
a successful confrontation. If he charged her right now, she’d
probably squeal and tumble into a terrified heap on the floor. She
pulled back the hammer of her pistol until it clicked to help him
with his decision-making process, and hopefully to fortify hers.
Still, terror gripped her heart, forcing it to pulse and throb in
uneven beats. Until a short time ago, she ran the kitchens in her
family’s hotel and gaming house. Pirating was not on her short list
of talents. In fact, she was rather pleased she’d pulled back the
hammer without accidentally discharging the gun. “Remi,”
she called to her brother over her shoulder, inwardly cursing at the
way her voice trembled. “If he makes a move toward either of us,
shoot him.” Remi’s hammer clicked back. Good. Pointing
toward the door with the pistol, she gestured for her prisoner to go
topside. Almost soundlessly, he moved in long, sinuous
strides through the passageway and up the ladder. He smelled of soap,
new leather boots, and a musky scent she knew was all him. The vision
of that tiger from long ago crept into her thoughts again as she eyed
his movements. Her thoughts jumped to her family up on the
main deck. They’d sent her to the galley to see what kind of stores
the ship held. No one expected she’d find a man down here, which
was a stupid assumption, apparently. The Sauvage family wasn’t used
to this kind of life. Sure, her brothers and cousins could recognize
a cheat and a thief when they saw one, but that was the limit of
their skills when it came to interacting with the more nefarious
slice of humanity. They’d spied on the ship for a couple of
hours; their chance came when most of the crew departed for shore.
The rest stayed topside. Her uncle said the men were probably told to
keep watch, but perhaps assuming the dense fog would cloak them in
safety, the crew gathered around an upturned crate and played cards,
enabling Stevie and the rest of the band to surround them. The
crew had surrendered with barely a word. It had been a foolhardy
plan. Ridiculous. Dangerous. Crazy. And
absolutely imperative they succeed.
【⚓】
Of all the damned, rotten luck. Conal
heaved himself up the last two steps and perused the deck. Remus and
his watch were all tied to the mizzen mast in the center of the
animal pen amidst a couple of pigs, two goats and the cow. The first
mate was busy cursing at the goat currently munching on his hat. So
much for rallying a rebellion anytime soon. To resist now would
be foolish. It was best to wait until a more opportune moment, after
they had time to evaluate their captors’ strengths and weaknesses.
He glanced at the woman called “Stevie.” She was
taller than most women. Her long, slender limbs moved fluidly, like a
dancer he’d encountered once when he was in Arabia. It was hard to
draw his gaze from her face. Dark, exotic lashes framed the grey eyes
beneath delicately arched brows, and her curves were in all the right
places. Even the long vest she wore couldn’t hide her form. She had
a French heritage. Her English was flawless; so she was probably
American. Women weren’t usually wanted, needed or appreciated
aboard a ship. There were always exceptions, like his sister and
aunt, but in general, having a woman aboard brought bad luck. Chances
were that she was important to at least one other person in their
group, or else she wouldn’t be here. Taking her hostage would be
his first move when the time was right. Surrounding the
pen was a group of well-armed men. From what Conal could discern
based their mannerisms and stance, they were landlubbers. A couple of
members with greenish tints to their faces hugged the rail on the
larboard side. Only old two salts stood with their legs braced wide
and confident. Those two were definitely seamen. Without waiting
for a pistol to poke him in the back, he strolled over to the pen.
Stevie and Remi followed, keeping a wary distance. “Is
your watch unharmed, Remus?” he asked the first mate. Remus
looked up and his cheeks reddened. “Yes, sir. Sorry, Captain.” He
added in a chagrined tone, “We just didn’t expect...” The
man didn’t need to finish the sentence, really. Even Conal wouldn’t
have expected anyone to do something this audacious so close to
Harbour Town in the late afternoon, fog or no fog. Conal
scanned their captors. He’d earlier assumed they were pirates, but
that seemed incorrect now. There were four other full-grown men, two
of which were obviously twins, and all most certainly had to be
related in some way. Along with light eyes and hair the color of
black coffee, there were similarities in build and stature, as well
as in certain facial features. The only exception was one of the
grizzled sailors, who looked to be about sixty. Remi stood
next to Stevie, and in the light of day, it was more obvious he was
still a boy, maybe thirteen or fourteen. Conal was an idiot for
allowing those two to take him without a fight. Pistols
notwithstanding. A tall, trim man about Conal’s age strode
forward, a scowl on his face. “What’s this?” “Remi and I
found him in the galley,” Stevie said.“Hiding?” “Bathing.” The
man’s eyes widened and he spun to face the two. Stevie just
shrugged. “Why didn’t you call for help?” “Quite
honestly, Victor, there wasn’t time,” Stevie said. “We found
him in a vulnerable situation and easily handled it on our
own.” Victor rubbed his forehead before brushing a dark lock
of hair from his eyes. “Adrian, toss him over with the
rest.” Adrian strode toward him and Conal swallowed. He was
normally the tallest in the room, but this one had him by almost a
head. Stevie touched Victor’s arm. “Wait, we might need him.
He’s their captain.” A quick flicker of relief crossed
Victor’s stern features before he turned his attention back to
Adrian. “Never mind. Make a sweep of the lower decks
instead.” Adrian gave Conal a shrug followed by a humorless
grin, then headed toward the ladder. An angry shout came
from the water below on the port side of the Seeker. “At
least toss over the oars, you sons of bitches!” Conal started
to walk toward the voice, but at Stevie’s raised pistol he stopped.
“What have you done with the rest of my men?” Victor
answered. “We sent them off in longboats.” He grabbed two oars,
walked to the starboard side of the ship and heaved them
overboard. “You half-masted, verminous dawcock!” came the
reply from the water below. At least the men had oars available
to row them to shore, although there was no guessing how long it
would take to get to them. Conal doubted there were any swimmers
among the crew on the longboat. It would take some time to paddle
with their hands to where the oars floated on the opposite side of
the ship. Meanwhile, Victor moved Conal near the mizzen
close to the other men then bound his hands and hobbled his legs in
irons, effectively depleting his mobility. The pirates gathered
together and the two old seamen began assigning tasks, and it wasn’t
long before they were in an argument. “The anchor has to be
brought up before ye can do that, ye dim-witted dog.” “I
know that! But we need feet on the yards and arms on the sheets if
we’re going to get underway, you vermin-ridden old goat.” Not
only did their captors walk the deck like lubbers, they didn’t even
look like pirates. There were no missing appendages except for two
fingers gone on the oldest salt’s left hand. There were no visible
scars, and for the most part, none of the younger men showed the
effects of sun-darkened skin or scurvy. Curious indeed.
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An independent young lady meets a bold
merchant captain pursued by a band of Caribbean pirates...what could
possibly go wrong? After a daring escape, Captain Landon Hart
sails the Desire to Charleston for repairs and to keep a mysterious
appointment with a plantation owner. He meets a sword-wielding,
fiery-haired temptress on the way, and he isn't prepared for the
impact she has on his tightly guarded heart...nor the trouble she
manages to attract. Keelan Grey had a solid plan that would save
her from an arranged marriage to a cruel plantation owner until a
deathbed confession from a loved one plunges her into a dark plot of
deception and revenge. Desperate for help, Keelan finds an
unlikely ally in the exasperating but irresistible sea captain. But
while she trusts him with her life, can she trust him with her
secrets?
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A Pirate King and a risky
disguise… Landon and Keelan’s adventure continues in Hart’s
Passion.Captain Landon Hart’s plan to elope with Keelan immediately
goes awry when she’s kidnapped by pirates. As usual, the red-haired
vixen ends up neck deep in trouble, and it’s not long before she
has the pirate captain demanding her head. When they target Landon’s
merchant fleet, the only way to keep her safe is to send her away,
then lure the pirates into a final confrontation. But Keelan
Grey has a mind (and a plan) of her own… Keelan is determined
to discover her true identity, but after that run-in with pirates,
she’s forced to put her postpone her plans. With a price on her
head and an old enemy out for revenge, Keelan can no longer allow the
man she loves to risk his life for her. Landon is committed to
protecting Keelan from the dangerous forces closing in, but has to
make hard choices when pirates target his merchant fleet, and Keelan
puts herself in danger. One thing is certain; the pirates
suspect she’s aboard his ship, and it’s not long before their
schooner is spotted on the horizon.
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Readers who love Pirates of the Caribbean and adventure romance will adore the Pirates & Petticoats Series!
ABOUT CHLOE FLOWERS
A Parrothead at heart, Chloe’s love
for pirates began with Peter Pan and continued with Pirates of the
Caribbean and ghost stories about pirates from the Outer Banks. She
listens to Celtic music while she writes. When life gets too serious,
she reads Calvin and Hobbes comics. She lives in Ohio with her tall,
dark and handsome husband, three children and two rambunctious
dogs, Indiana and Luke, who are named after her two favorite action
heroes. Descended from a family of cooks and gourmet chefs,
Chloe is a true foodie and along with working for fortune 500
companies in marketing and teaching MBA students strategic marketing,
she also ran a gourmet cookie company. Cooking for a crowd runs in
the blood, so her fridge is always full. She deals with stress by
baking pies (just ask her college roommates what it was like for them
around exam time). Her idea of a perfect day? Sailing on the
caribbean with her family, sun in her face and wind at her back, and
finishing the day in the kitchen making a fab gourmet meal and
sipping a glass of wine. The Pirates & Petticoats Series is
about spunky heroines and the scoundrels who love them.
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