King of Libertines Read online Pam Godwin

Categories Genre: Dark, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 13120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 66(@200wpm)___ 52(@250wpm)___ 44(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

King of Libertines

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Pam Godwin

Book Information:

"What began as an unstoppable explosion of passion forged into something pivotal, essential, and more."
Not a fan of historical romance? Unsure about reading a steamy pirate romance? To help you decide, this is a taste of the world and characters in SEA OF RUIN. It can be read before or after the full-length, stand-alone novel. It doesn’t spoil the main story.
“Sea of Ruin is precisely what I LOVE in Dark Romance. Elegant writing that paints a romantic picture, swoon-worthy anti-heroes who make aggression oh so seductive, and a plot that balances on brutal and breath-taking. Couple that with well-researched history and pirates...yeah, it’s a five pieces of eight gold stars from me. LOVED IT!” ~ Pepper Winters, New York Times bestselling author
“Pam Godwin consumed my heart and soul through the brutal beauty of Sea of Ruin. I was enthralled, not only by the authentic vocabulary and historic references, but by the sheer wonder of this unique tale and the characters like no other. Sea of Ruin is an epic novel that goes far beyond five stars. I give all the gold doubloons to this story, one that will forever remain in my dreams and nightmares.” ~ Aleatha Romig, New York Times bestselling author
“Pam is one of the most masterful writers I have ever read. Skillfully executed, penned to perfection ... Sea of Ruin will leave you breathless. Bennett, Priest, and Ashley are my new obsession, and this is sitting at the top of my 2020 favorite list! READ. THIS. BOOK!” ~ Jewel E. Ann, USA Today & Wall Street Journal bestselling author
Books by Author:

Pam Godwin

I met him on a hot and rainy day.

The clouds hung low. The sea swelled high, and his eyes glinted the stormiest shade of gray.

The moment he stepped onto my ship, his arrogant scowl confessed two things. One, he was rakishly, offensively handsome. Two, he wasn’t impressed to find a woman captaining the fifty-gun galleon.

Not that I cared a whit what any man thought.

It was the summer of 1719. The British had just defeated the Jacobites. The French had laid their beloved Jean-Baptiste de La Salle to rest. The Governor of the Bahamas had granted the king’s pardon to my old friend, Calico Jack. And a rare few women—yes, the gentler, weaker sex—were joining the echelons of seafaring, hell-raising ruffians who plundered the West Indies.

I wasn’t the first lady pirate who feared neither God nor man nor death. And I wouldn’t be the last.

With rain slanting off my wide-brimmed hat and soaking through my linen corset and trousers, I blew a blonde curl from my face and cast a fleeting glance across the upper deck.

And stumbled into surly gray eyes for the hundredth time.

Tall and ruggedly lean, the stranger braced his boots shoulder-width apart, flexing power through his warrior stance. Leather straps and steel blades dangled about a trim waist. Brown breeches molded around long legs and tucked into black boots. Within the V of his open shirt, a sculpted, sun-bronzed chest attested to the physical demands of a life at sea.

Oh, he was one of the Brethren of the Black Flag, to be certain. A fearsome pirate, through and through. But there was more to him than violence and mayhem.

The sinuous curve of lips, the casual drape of an arm over the rail, the predatory eyes that tracked my every move… Even at a distance, he positively radiated seduction.

But I didn’t need a companion to warm my bed. I had plenty of those waiting in every port. What I needed were more gunners.

He’d boarded the ship with another man, looking for work. Between the pair of them, there was enough well-thewed muscle and youthful stamina to take on the king’s navy from a gundeck. By God, I bet they could feed eighteen-pounders into the snouts of iron guns all day without breaking a sweat.

They loitered along the larboard bow, waiting to meet the ship’s captain. I wouldn’t make them wait much longer. But first, I had to deal with the disobedient crew member staring down at me.

Saunders stood three hands taller than my female height. Despite his oily hair and crooked, sun-blistered nose, he wasn’t an ugly English tar. Just lazy and unmindful sometimes.

Today’s dereliction earned him a fist across the face as I shouted with all the fury of a disappointed captain. He tucked his bearded chin to his chest and wrung his hat in his hands, his mouth a grim slash of shame.

Further chastisement wasn’t needed. He wouldn’t be falling asleep during his watch again.

“When this rain lets up,” I said, “I want the decks swabbed until they shine like new.”

“Yes, Captain.”

His eagerness to please injected steel into my spine as I strode through the rain toward the two potential recruits. Keeping my eyes on my boots, I measured my steps to avoid a slip on the wet planks.

Tropical showers fell briefly and often in the West Indies, but never with such churning energy in the air. It gathered like a lightning storm and skated a prickling fever across my skin. When I looked up, a gasp escaped me.

Close enough to touch, I stared into a face that could’ve been chiseled from rich marble. The shadow of stubble didn’t blunt the squared angles. Nor did the fringes of lashes soften the intensity.

This close, his eyes shocked my heart. So pale and luminous, the irises were startlingly, inhumanly colorless.

His hair fell wildly about his shoulders in hues of brown, the top half braided with shell beads and scraped back into a leather queue, lending him an exotic air. Add to that the wide pillar of his neck and a physique stacked with foreboding strength… I’d never met a man as intimidating and beautiful as this one.

It took multiple swallows to clear my throat. “Welcome aboard Jade.”

“Jade?” His forehead beetled as he glanced around, giving the galleon a closer look. “Edric Sharp’s Jade?”

“She’s my ship.” Uneasiness swelled in the space between my heart and stomach.

Numerous galleons cruised the high seas, but none so notorious as this one. My father had seized it from a Spanish treasure fleet. For me.

Removing the figurehead, flags, and other distinguishing features made it less identifiable. Hopefully, less of a target for the Royal Navy, pirate hunters, sea marauders—anyone seeking to capture Edric Sharp’s only child.

I’d willfully signed up for this life, one that put me on the run. Murder and piracy came with the territory, and I owned that. Just like my father before he died.