PIRATES
(Formerly called ROGUES, revised and re-edited)
Three
stories, one kind of hero, pirates anyone? Includes the short stories:
Angel-Fire: A short intro to the world of
Captain Jack Stanton, an honourable man with a tarnished reputation. Stranded
in Nassau, caught up in a pleasant interlude with a barmaid, Jack has a vision
that will lead him to his past and his future, if he can survive to get back
Tortuga to discover what it all means…
Storm-Singer: The Isle of Nyx has become the
dread of all sailors who must dare the waters surrounding the mythical island.
Local legends say a vampire prince resides in the ancient castle that can be
seen from the harbor of the island. At his side is a powerful sorceress whose
song can control and summon storms.
In a
desperate attempt to end the eternal threat looming over them, the people of
the Aurora Islands sacrifice their greatest treasure, the princess Sarita,
entrusting her with the task of seducing and destroying the dark prince who has
been plundering their wealth and their people for centuries?
The
Phantom’s Lair: Upon her arrival in the pirate
port of Tortuga where her father is acting as Governor, Katheryn Hollinsworth
is determined to choose her own path, and follow her heart wherever it may take
her. On the streets of Puerta de la Plata, she encounters the mythical
buccaneer known as The Phantom, and very quickly loses her heart to the
handsome rogue.
Jack
Stanton is a man who has never fully come to terms with his past, and in the
Governor's pretty daughter he finds a most unlikely champion. But when his past
threatens her life, and any chance of a respectable future, The Phantom must
face the demons of his past, and accept the dictates of his own reawakened
heart...
EXCERPTS:
Angel-Fire:
“Relax,
Jacques,” she purred softly as she rained kisses over his face and chest. “Let
your mind accept the gift I have given you.”
Swept
along on a tidal wave of sensuous excitement, Stanton struggled despite her
pleas. He made a half-hearted grab for her when her soft lips trekked further
downward, and she effortlessly slapped aside his attempt at restraint.
Jack’s
hips rose from the bed, the reaction totally beyond his ability to control, if
indeed he had truly wanted to stop the barrage of sexual delight pounding
through his veins. He twisted, tried to pin her, but laughter met the awkward
movement of his sluggish limbs.
Angelique
pressed the expanse of his naked chest and pushing him onto his back as she
straddled his hips and grinned down at him.
Stanton
opened his mouth, but no coherent words passed his lips.
She
lowered herself onto his straining erection and his body convulsed with new
euphoria. When the surge of sensory pleasure threatened to suffocate him, his
mind finally rose and found freedom.
Through a
haze of smoke and mist, Jack’s beloved ship, The Scarlet Thorn, sailed away as
he shouted obscenities and anything else his fertile imagination offered him.
On Thorn’s quarterdeck, the newly appointed Captain DeBeaupre’s laughter rang
out and taunted him. Gold, spinning wildly, glittering wickedly, always out of
reach. Blood tinged the brilliance of the shining metal and Jack drew back from
it. Engulfed in crimson, a skull grinned from the golden surface.
Was this
part of the notorious curse that he’d been hearing about for years?
As
quickly as the thought crystallized in his mind, it was lost to swirling mist
again.
Slowly,
the fog cleared and the Thorn, under attack and badly damaged, shrieked rage
into his brain, echoing into a darkness that obscured everything.
“Breathe
deeply, my love,” Angelique whispered, riding his bucking hips wildly as she
held his wavering gaze. “Let my angel-fire bring forth your destiny,” she
moaned, losing her hold on his gaze as her desire peaked and exploded.
The
Phantom’s Lair:
Stanton
stopped a few feet from the two people squared off against each other. The
girl’s sword moved like a shimmering sliver of moonlight as she parried and
feinted with careless grace, easily deflecting the less disciplined thrusts of
her opponent’s blade. She was dressed like a buccaneer, but he sensed she was
anything but what she appeared to be. She slipped on wet ground. The drunkard
gained an advantage and made to deliver a fatal strike.
Cutlass
drawn, Jack intercepted the other man’s sword on its downward arc. Sparks flew
as the blades clashed, and Stanton circled until he stood between the woman and
her attacker.
“Taking
advantage of a lady when she’s down.” Jack shook his head in mock despair,
while his mouth curved into a roguish smile. “That’s hardly fair play.”
“Stay
outta this.” The sailor snarled in reckless fury. “It’s between me and the
lady.” He tried to shove Stanton aside.
Jack
pushed back and waited. The stumbling man to recovered and had a new target, as
Jack had anticipated. He raised his weapon and edged closer to Stanton.
“Do you
really think this wise, mate?” Jack smiled, enjoying himself now.
His
opponent lunged.
Jack
sidestepped and the other man hit the building and staggered. Jack tapped his
shoulder with his sword. The man whirled, growling his fury, and attacked like
a madman. Jack hadn’t calculated the ferocity of the other man’s anger, and he
was nearly run through.
The
swordplay began in earnest, and Stanton had no time to consider if he should
have left this situation to the people involved. A few well-chosen steps gave
him the advantage and he parried awkward thrusts with more ease as he drove the
fellow backward. When he struck the man across the face with the hilt of his
cutlass, he thought the contest over. Until a slash of fire tore up his arm and
he had scant seconds to realize he’d been struck. Stanton’s annoyance went up
another notch and he spun around, intent on ending the impromptu confrontation.
The woman spared him further effort when she slammed the back of the sailor’s
head with the butt of a pistol and he went down with a groan.
Jack
looked at her, a quizzical tilt to his head.
“I didn’t
think it necessary to kill a man simply for being stupid,” she explained with a
flash of pearly-white teeth. “But I thank you for your assistance, sir.” She
stepped closer and peered at her rescuer. He stepped back, sheathing his
cutlass, with suspicion in his pale eyes.
“Do I
know you?”
“I think
not, m’lady.” Jack smiled.
Now that
he could see her clearly in the torchlight, Jack knew they had never met. He
wouldn’t have forgotten a woman as lovely as this one. The flicker of the torch
flames found responding tongues of color in her long, tumbling mane, presently
slipping from the leather thong she’d tied at her nape. The cloak she wore was
open, and his sharp gaze took rapid stock of her clothes. His earlier opinion
was confirmed in his sweeping appraisal as he inventoried silk shirt,
close-fitting pants of heavy cotton, polished leather boots reaching her knees,
and a wide belt from which hung the scabbard for her handcrafted sword.
“Jack
Stanton.” She positioned the pistol at her hip. “You’re Captain Jack Stanton,
aren’t you? The one they call The Phantom.”
Jack’s
head tilted as he met her bold brown stare. What he saw there amused him. She
was curious, and faintly excited by her discovery of his identity. “And you
are?”
Storm-Singer:
Magic thrummed
in the icy pitch of the night air. Sorcery and song combined to create a
powerful and potent spell, one that promised to be all Jaden had demanded.
Arrah
contained her wrath, pushed it into the darkest corner of her soul, as she
concentrated on the binding harmony she was weaving with the winds. Power
surged within her, and she breathed in the sweet, pure essence of earth-force,
captivated now by the mystical rapture that the music stirred and sent
spiraling into the night.
Waves
rose and battered the ebony shores of the Isle of Nyx, their crashing voice
another rhythm of power in the enchantment. The winds coalesced, added their
resonant wail to the sounds filling the air, and she shuddered, savage spirit
attuned to the maelstrom of forces engulfing her. She shifted the tone of her
song, weaving greater torrents of madness into the music, and the night
darkened further.
With the
blackness came vision.
And
Jaden.
She
caught his unique scent, heard the whisper of silk moving rhythmically with
each step he took toward her. She felt the power of his very presence long
before his graceful hand came to rest at her shoulder.
“The
Spectre is ready for launch.”
Jaden’s
smooth, sensual voice caressed her, as silken and alluring as the power that
vibrated within her body. His arms glided around her waist, and the soft,
evocative stroke of his tongue on her neck made her tremble. His hands roamed
freely over her, everywhere at once, lighting fire and hunger in her veins as
he touched and explored familiar curves. She arched away from him, and he
pulled her back against the solid steel of his body. When his mouth covered the
throbbing pulse at her neck, her voice reached a new crescendo of furious
power. She felt the sharp piercing of her skin then their thoughts merged and
reached outward as he sought beyond the storm she’d conjured for him.
Long
minutes later, he released his hold on her and turned her to face him, dark
eyes glittering. He smiled, tenderness in the shift of his perfect features.
She kissed his cheek, then bent her forehead to his chest, faintly aware of the
stolen heartbeat that was hers, hearing the even cadence that was a flawless
echo of each thump of life within her.
“How long
will you need?” she asked, her earlier anger faded for the moment.
“We will
return before dawn,” he replied with faint laughter in his rich tone.
“Is this
treasure worth the risk you take, Jaden?” She wasn’t as certain as he appeared
to be. An indefinable and worrisome element that remained out of her reach
nagged at her.
“This
treasure is far more than gold and jewels, Arrah,” he purred.
Startled,
she met his gaze. “What did you see?”
“Betrayal.”
Her eyes
grew huge as he smiled down at her.
“Have
faith.” He kissed her lips, a slow, erotic caress tasting faintly of blood and
magic. “Wait for me.” He winked then vanished in an inky swirl of mist and
silken cloak.
