Mutiny of the
Heart blurb:
Navigating the high seas as
the female captain of a pirate ship means always being on your guard—especially
when one takes a temptingly handsome slave on board.
Captain Joelle Quint believes the
slave claiming to be a cartographer can help her decipher the map her father
left her when she was a child. She's spent years trying to unlock its truths,
hoping that it holds the answers to a dark family secret.
Sloan Ricker has no intention of
remaining captive. When the fiery, red-headed captain offers him his freedom in
exchange for solving her map, what begins as an opportunity to escape becomes a
struggle to make the beautiful, intriguing Joelle his mistress in more ways
than one.
Amidst a battle with the Royal
Navy and a first mate's jealousy, Joelle also fights her growing lust. And as
much as he'd like to deny it, Ricker's desire for Joelle has overcome his
initial disdain. To get the answers, independence and love that they both long
for, Joelle and Ricker must relinquish control to each other…or die trying.
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Mutiny of the Heart excerpt:
“I give you my word, Ricker.” The
sincerity in her voice matched that of her eyes. “You help me and freedom will
be yours.”
Freedom would be his no matter
what. The ragtag band of pirates would not stop him from taking what was his at
the first chance he got. Not even the red-headed siren whose knee softly
brushed against his, sending an electric wave up his thigh.
He’d never seen a woman quite
like Quint. Her abilities as a captain, her feminine artfulness, her sharp
intuitiveness—his curiosity in her was eating him alive. Christ! Those lips.
Begging to be kissed. He better damn well focus on something else lest he do
something foolish.
“Are we ever free?” Do the nightmares ever really cease?
“No,” she said. “I suppose not.”
For a fleeting moment, she
drifted. What shackles did she bear? Should he care? Nay, he didn’t think so.
But he wasn’t entirely sure.
“What is it that haunts you, Captain?”
“I’ve nothing that ails me.” Her
chin inched higher. She may have been defiant, but Ricker saw the lie in her
eyes.
“Come now. What of this map? You
say it leads to answers. Answers to what?”
Profound sadness shadowed her
freckled features. “Why he left,” she said, shaking her head.
“Who?”
“My father.” She dragged her
fingers into her red tresses at her temple, locks slipping through, and away
she wafted once more to someplace far in the past. “Who am I really? Why did he
leave me at the orphanage? Why did he come back years later to deliver the
strongbox? What were the emerald and map to mean? Why didn’t he take me with
him? I needed him. Missed him. Didn’t he know that? Didn’t he care?” The
slender column of her neck tightened as she swallowed. ’Twas painfully obvious
she fought back her emotions and tears. “I didn’t even know he came until he
was gone.”
Ricker was wrong. He did care.
She fought demons just as he. At least his were distinct—people, mostly. He’d
overcome his sufferings. Quint’s torments were elusive, like trying to grasp
the thick sea fog. She might never put her anguish to rest.
“So, Mr. Ricker,” she said,
regaining her flinty battle-ready mask. “Does that satisfy your need to know
what haunts me?”
“We’re all made up of scars.”
“Scars grow thick to protect the
wound.”
He shifted closer in his chair
toward her. “Some wounds need attention.” He gently traced the outer edge of
her dressing. “To lessen the pain.”
“Rum lessens pain,” she
countered.
“’Tis true.” Ricker handed Quint
her cup and picked up his own. “To pain,” he said, tilting his mug in a toast.
Her slow drink was like a slow
burn of a gun’s corded fuse. The tension was near to igniting. With each
passing second, his trousers grew uncomfortably tight. He wanted to kiss her.
Had to kiss her. Would kiss her. Now.
The moment he drained his cup,
her mouth descended upon him hard and voracious. Ricker recovered from his
surprise before she pulled away slightly.
“To rum,” she rasped.
He grabbed her by her nape. No
way was he letting her get away with that. He returned the favor, attacking her
lips, raiding her mouth, feeding off the warm taste of liquor, the soft roll of
her tongue. Damn, she tasted divine. Better than cool water to a dying man.
“What the devil?”
A rapier on the wall rattled at
the slam of the door.
“Get your bloody hands off her!”
Ricker rose to his feet to face
Valeryn. The heat of anger flushed up his neck, from both the interruption and
the threatening demand. Things were about to get nasty. “What’s your trouble,
friend?”
“Oh, I’ve no trouble I can’t be
rid of.”
Top 6 Reasons to Read A Pirate Romance
1. Pirates are the ultimate bad boys.
2. Heroines must be kick ass to tame wild boys.
3. Pirates are courageous, lusty, fiercely loyal, and deeply passionate, living with no guarantee the sun would rise tomorrow.
4. History is brought to life with action, adventure, and quirky sayings like “of all liquor commend me to rum” or “fire and brimstone!”
5.The tension is always tight, which makes for some sexy, dangerous fun.
6. There is always the devil to pay.
Bio:
Award-winning, multi-published author Jennifer Bray-Weber has always wished for real life to mimic
adventuresome tales. As if being a mother of two wasn’t enough adventure, she
writes pirate historical romances and dabbles in erotica fantasy romance. Her
next two books in the Romancing the Pirate series are scheduled to
release early in 2014. Connect with Jennifer and join her mailing list for
sneak peeks, excerpts, and free giveaways.
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