LADY BUCCANEERS

A novel of historical faction [real events used as the basis for a fiction novel] based on the lives of Anne Bonny and Mary Read


PROLOGUE

More than anything, I miss Mary.

It's been more than ten years since we parted, since our last kiss good-bye, and secret smiles.

But the brief time we spent together-the adventures we shared, the love and admiration and affection we felt for each other-these will remain in my memory forever.

Mary and I were so alike in many ways; and yet, we had our differences. Perhaps that's why we got on so well together. She made me feel so alive, so wanted and needed, and I daresay I did the same for her.

Others knew us to be strong women, individually. But, together? Virtually unstoppable.

Many's the times I've stood here on Morgan's Bluff beneath a star-filled sky and gazed wistfully out to the ocean and breathed in the cool salty scent of it. Many's the time I've imagined Mary and me on the decks of the Implacable once again.

The blood pumps hotly with excitement through our veins as our ship closes in on another merchant vessel laden down with gold and trinkets, bullion, slaves, and other cargo.

Once more, I feel the rough cord from the end of the grappling iron as it runs through my fingers. The salty air lightly kisses my skin as I swing from the deck of the Implacable to our prey.

How Mary and I laughed aloud as hired mercenaries dashed towards us, their cutlasses waving; then, at the surprised look on their faces as our own blades sliced exposed necks or plunged into bellies, or our pistols blasted a hole between their eyes. All to leave their bodies slit and gutted, bleeding on the floorboards.

Their booty became ours, then--gold and silver coins, jewelry, spices, and clothing. All manner of fine and useful items we confiscated for our own use. Through bottles of whiskey and brandy, dancing to pennywhistle tunes, loving and lusting till the wee hours of the morning--we reveled in our newly-acquired wealth and laughed in the face of danger despite the reward-for-capture proclamations that hung in every town across the Indies, and demanded our heads.

They were good times, indeed.

We were pirates, no mistaking that. It was the life we chose, and we wouldn't have had it any other way.

My name is Anne Bonny.

Mary Read was my companion, my friend, my lover, and my partner.

Lady buccaneers, if you will.

But it wasn't always like that.

And this is our story.


BACK