Sorry I am a bit late. (I totally forgot today is the 20th, lol) Today I thought I would share with you a snippet of Oracle's Vision a Wiccan Haus novel written with my co-writer and best friend, Michele Ryan. It's in edits right now and I can't wait for it to be available!
“Jack, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times—this island will eat you alive.” Anne’s husky voice cut through the whipping wind of the ocean.
“Darling,” he replied. “It’s full of money ripe for the pillaging. We entertain ourselves here, wait for someone to pass out, and take what they’ve left.” He cozied up to Anne. His lips brushed the shell of her ear. “We’ll fuck under the stars while drinking rum.”
Anne rolled her shoulders. “We’ll get shot is what we’ll do.”
Jack’s hand splayed across Bonney’s stomach. “I’m sure Mary will join us, won’t you, dear?”
She licked her lips. Anne had been a veracious lover. The way the woman ate pussy could be considered, although crudely, an art form. The first time she laid with her, Bonney spread Mary’s legs wide, then settled between them and drank of her flesh. The orgasms were amazing, the little tricks she learned far more important. “I will,” she said. “I have seen what debauchery lies before us.”
It had been her suggestion to join with Jack that led them toward the Bahamas and now Nassau Beach. Merchant ships were anchored a few miles from shore, filled with precious booty, which would be used for trade. Ransacked Man-O-War ships were also being prepped for battle, claimed by the pirates who’d made the island their home.
“Vane is also here,” Anne reminded him.
“It will be fine,” Jack answered. “The cur lost his nerve years ago. Not like we didn’t send him on his way. Right men?” he called out.
The rousing “Aye” that followed did nothing to sooth her fears.
They’d talked the night before, after a stimulating round of lovemaking. Jack had been a reckless man, sometimes picking fights with those he knew couldn’t win. She ran her fingers through Bonney’s hair, whispering words of encouragement, knowing their time had been coming to a close. Three years together had seemed like centuries. She loved Anne with all of her heart. So, she made the best of what remained of their life together.
“Anne,” she said, coming up beside her. “We’ll have fun. Find a whore or three to play with. Jack can join in.” She gave him a teasing look. “If his prick will rise.”
That got a laugh out of her friend. “I suppose you’re right,” she said. “Three days, Jack.”
“Of course, darling.”
Three days turned into to a month. A month turned into six months. Nassau became a port of refuge for them. Due to her abilities and Anne’s cunning, they’d taken over the whorehouse. They’d put the old woman running it out of her misery and turned it into a booming business. Even if it meant gutting a man to get their point across.
No one stole from Anne Bonney and Mary Read, as she called herself in those days.
Pirates from all over diverged on that beach. Blackbeard. Long John Silver. Billy Bones. Each had been more delectable than the last. Each one telling her secrets by candlelight. A few times she’d been tempted to follow them, leave the island behind, and create a new adventure for herself, but she stayed with Anne.
In the summer of Seventeen-Twenty, they finally left port. Jack acquired three ships and owned a rather auspicious packing and parcel company. Money flowed to them, hand over fist. A pirate’s treasure to be sure. But the call of the ocean drew them from land and sent them back to sea. The night before they departed, she tried to warn Anne, but Jack wouldn’t listen to her.
For months they rode the waves. A grand scheme would be taking place near Point Negril, Jamaica, and Jack had to be there.
The weasel, instead of fighting when they were ambushed by the British Armada, cowered like a little baby in the haul, leaving her and Anne to fend themselves.