Proud Pirate Queen. With her feisty band of warrior women, Maeve Merrick, the notorious Pirate Queen of the Caribbean, commands the seas in her beautiful schooner Kestrel. Burned by the treachery of men and nursing a painful betrayal from her past, Maeve wants for nothing … until the sea delivers a handsome castaway to her remote island.
High Stakes and Betrayal. Nothing is as it appears. Maeve’s prisoner has a dangerous secret – a secret that could very well change the fate of nations … but from the moment the fiery she-pirate lays eyes upon her gift from the sea, she finds her most precious possession – her heart – in danger of becoming a pirate’s plunder in this fast-paced, passionate tale of love set in the summer of 1805.
This book may contain explicit intimate scenes, so if you are not 18+ then I probably wouldn’t recommend it for younger readers.
I loved every bit of the book – the story and it’s characters, but most of all I loved Sir Graham ‘Gray’ Falconer. He was a lovable hoot from the beginning to the end. I loved his playfulness and humor – so much so that at certain scenes I had tears swelling up in my eyes from fits of giggles (especially when Maeve found him unexpectedly in her bed) and his undieing persistence when it came to wooing and convincing Maeve that he was indeed her gallant knight she wished for.
“Stop it!” she hissed. He dropped the orange section into his mouth, licked his lips with a slow, languorous, circular motion, and slowly peeled off another. The heat rose in Maeve’s blood. “Would you like . . . a taste, madam?” She raised her cutlass. “I’ll give you a taste—” “No decisive battle was ever fought from afar,” he interrupted on a low murmur, still grinning. “Nay, two vessels must lie alongside of each other in order to best bring their guns to bear.” He bit into the orange, making lewd, evocative noises as the juice trailed from the succulent flesh and dribbled down his chin. There was a dimple in that chin, and Maeve felt her heart skipping, staggering, faltering. “We have a signal for such an engagement in the navy. ’Tis called close action.” “You are no longer in the navy, and I am not a ship!” “Nay, you are not . . .” His voice grew low, dangerously seductive. “But I like the cut of your jib, the taut trim of your sails”—the dark gaze slid over her breasts, the gentle flare of her hips—“the shape of your hull.”
He knelt down, and put a flower under her nose. She turned away. He tickled her under the chin with it. “Stop it.” “It is for you.” “I don’t want it.” “Ah, Maeve, you wound me. It’s just a poor, innocent flower. To think that its very existence, its very life, was ordained so that it could be presented to you . . . that its very life was cut short so that it could bring a smile of delight to your lovely lips—and now, you don’t want it.” He put his hand to his heart and affected a hurt look. “Dear God, if I were that flower I would be sorely crushed, and go to my death drowning in tears of bitterness and rejection and hurt and abandonment—” “Oh, give me the blasted thing!” she cried, and snatching it away from him, held it protectively against her breast. Sir Graham smiled, his eyes twinkling.
They sat together for a long moment; then, eventually, he let his leg swing over and purposely bump hers. She looked up at him, and found him smiling down at her, his eyes full of teading confidence, and in that moment she loved him more than she had ever loved anyone, anything, in the entire span of her life.
There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to win her heart – even going to great lengths as embarrassing himself when scaling her window at night and mistakenly ending up in an elder lady’s room instead of Maeve’s.
Then, in a single movement, he pulled himself cleanly up and through the window, and drawing his cutlass, leapt into the room with a savage, bloodcurdling yell. “Aaaarrrrrrghhhhhh!” “Eeeeeaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!” An elderly woman, in slippers and nightgown. “SHIT!” Gray cried, and bolted for the door. “Thief! Intruder! Somebody, help!” Cutlass in hand, he tore frantically down the hall, the old woman’s screams echoing in the corridor behind him. How could he have chosen the wrong room?! He tripped, nearly fell, cut himself on the blade of the sword, and finding speed, darted away from an opening door, when he heard more calls and shouts ringing out behind him. […] “Maeve, open up!” “Gray, darling? Is that you?” “For God’s sake, Maeve, open the goddamned door, now!” “Now Gray, that’s no way to talk to royalty.” He pounded savagely against the door, nearly holing the elegant wood. “Jesus, Maeve, OPEN THE GODDAMNED DOOR!”
“I am going to marry you, you know,” he announced in the same tone he might’ve used to proclaim the state of the weather. But beneath it was a tough note of steel, a steadiness of purpose that was not to be questioned. “You shall be Lady Falconer. There is no use fighting it, Maeve.” “You have no right to determine my future, and I’ll fight you ’til the day I die.” “No. You’ll fight me until you learn to trust me. And trust me you will, as God is my witness.”
She flipped through the pages, noting the meaning of each flag even as another gun poked out of the warship’s sides . . . and another. And closed the book with a furious snap. “What’s he saying, Captain? What’s he saying?” She stared at the big ship, the colorful array of flags waving in the wind. “He says,” she muttered, on a dark little laugh, “that if I so much as even think of sailing off, he’ll blow us out of the water.”
“And I love you, Gray. I’m sorry I’ve made your life . . . difficult.” “Difficult? You have made it a veritable hell! But it has been quite an adventure, I grant you that. I would not have had it otherwise.”
As always, I love all of Danelle’s novels and I definitely LOVED My Lady Pirate.