Title: Over Raging Tides
Author: Jennifer Ellision
Series: Lady Pirates #1
Publication date: March 20th, 2018
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult
The pirate crew of the Lady Luck lives by many rules, but chief among them is this: they do not allow men on board.
That’s a rule that quartermaster Grace Porter is willing to break when a shipwrecked young nobleman offers her information of an omniscient map, stolen from his warship by an enemy vessel. Until now, the map was only the stuff of legend… but with its help, Grace may finally be able to hunt down the Mordgris, the sea monsters who stole her mother away from her.
Unfortunately, some members of her crew have other plans…
To find the map and face the Mordgris, Grace will have to confront her past, put the Luck between warring nations, and uncover treachery aboard the ship. And ultimately, her revenge and the destruction of the Mordgris will come at a hefty price: the betrayal of her crew.
Grace promised them they wouldn’t regret this.
She just isn’t sure that she won’t.
“Have you a name, young man?”
This “man” is no older than I am. But he’s soft. You can tell it from the look in his eyes. Never had to fight for more than what’s been given to him. It’s always been enough.
He won’t find any compatriots in that manner on-board the Luck. We’re all different enough, but one thing is for certain: none of us have ever been given what we deem enough. It’s the constant battle for more that led us to where we are.
“I’m Leo, ma’am.”
At least he has the sense to offer some deference.
“No surname that goes with that?” she prods.
“Wesson,” he hastily offers. “And the little one’s Wesson, too. My brother, John.”
“Mr. Wesson, then,” Ilene says. “Were you not left in the care of my very able crew?”
“Yes, ma’am. But I—”
“So instead of accepting our very generous hospitality, you took it upon yourself to sneak away. Sly, Mr. Wesson. Very sly. A fox in a proverbial henhouse—though perhaps that is a bit on-the-nose. But let’s continue on with this metaphor, regardless. Foxes are a nuisance, Mr. Wesson. And when a farmer grows tired of a pest disrupting the hen’s business, what do you supposed that farmer may do?”
Wesson stays silent, though the anger he’s not well-trained enough to hide lights his eyes. He’s no imbecile. He perceives the threat that Captain Ilene is offering with all the lightness of polite dinner conversation.
“The farmer may choose to exterminate that pest, Mr. Wesson.”
Now the anger truly flares in his eyes. “The farmer may have to catch the fox first,” he says quietly.
Interesting. My estimation of him rises minutely.
The captain’s brow raises, and she nods to me. While she reclines in her seat and lazily rests her feet upon her table, I cross the room and, with little effort, toe the door to the captain’s quarters closed. A scant second later and the bolt is flipped.
The captain motions to Wesson as if passing him the bread at dinner, her lips quirked slightly in amusement. The implication is clear:
The fox has been caught. And the farmer didn’t even have to lift a finger to catch him.